Where Is 'Miside But There Are 720 Security Guards' Set?

The story unfolds in Miside, a fictional district that’s equal parts luxury and lockdown. Imagine a gilded prison—skyscrapers with diamond-coated windows, streets patrolled by drones, and those 720 guards stationed at every conceivable entry point. They’re not just muscle; they’re part of a biometric network, tracking residents’ every move. The district’s designer wanted a utopia but created a dystopia instead, where ‘security’ means surrendering privacy. The setting’s irony is thick: a place so safe it feels suffocating.

The setting is a corporate city-state called Miside, where security is the local religion. Every guard is a disciple, armed with tech that would make Bond jealous. The streets are layered like a game level, with checkpoints and laser grids. It’s not a place; it’s a system, optimized to keep outsiders out and insiders compliant. The story thrives in this pressure cooker, where even the air feels monitored.

'Miside but there are 720 security guards' is set in a sprawling, high-tech corporate fortress called the Miside Tower, located in a fictional metropolis known as Neo-Tokyo. The city itself is a dazzling blend of neon-lit skyscrapers and shadowy alleyways, where cybernetic enhancements are as common as smartphones. The tower is the headquarters of a megacorporation, and its 720 guards aren’t just humans—they’re augmented with AI-linked implants, making them near-invincible. The setting oozes cyberpunk vibes, with rain-slicked streets reflecting holographic ads, while the tower’s interior shifts like a labyrinth to trap intruders. It’s a world where paranoia meets cutting-edge tech, and every corner feels like a potential battleground.

The story’s tension comes from the juxtaposition of the tower’s sterile, ultra-secure environment against the chaotic city outside. The guards patrol everything from underground labs researching forbidden AI to rooftop gardens where executives sip synth-coffee. The setting isn’t just a backdrop; it’s a character, with its own rules and secrets. The author nails the vibe of a place where trust is obsolete, and survival depends on outsmarting both the system and the people who built it.

Miside is a high-security enclave tucked inside a larger, crumbling city. Think of it as a billionaire’s bunker disguised as a neighborhood. The guards aren’t hired; they’re bred—cloned and trained from birth to protect the elite. The architecture is all sleek surfaces hiding panic rooms and hidden tunnels. It’s less about location and more about isolation, a bubble where the rich pretend the outside world doesn’t exist. The guards aren’t just protecting people; they’re maintaining an illusion.