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I reckon it’s all about the tease, innit? Not just a rub-down—nah, it’s art. Some blokes think it’s dodgy, but screw ‘em. Makes me happy as a pig in muck—relaxes me after dodging bullets. Did ya know, back in ancient Rome, they’d do these oily massages with a kinky twist? Senators getting frisky—proper naughty! Surprised me, that—thought I’d seen it all.

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First stop? The workshop on Storgatan. You know, the one that smells like metal and sweat? Yeah, that’s the place. I’m a machinist, so I live for that stuff. But today? Today was different. I get there, and my buddy Lars is already ranting about some machine that’s gone rogue. Like, seriously, it’s spitting out parts like it’s possessed. I’m like, “Dude, did you feed it after midnight?” Classic Lars.

Figure 2 (A) Automated external defibrillator drone hangar in...