Fragment II: Cash Is Wind – Hoard or Choke in the Corporate Deluge
Breathe deep—that's freedom's gasp in smog-choked streets. Now they tax exhales, meter air like commodities where corps own the tanks. That's your cash cap: a thousand dollars—you're suspicious, pre-crime, state-corp tracks credits like neural implants log thoughts. They digitize so they flip the switch—Hughes' nightmare real
