Chp. 26: Spell of Persuasion

Lawrence left the room where Terrchel was being held and was greeted by a beat up Arcadian Patrol member, who he then stopped and questioned, "What happened to you!?"

The AP: "Oh nothing, I sorted it out some Crimson red head girl that used illegal tech gear. She put up such a fight but I used the latest zapper viles you've given us for rare cases and it worked. Nobody ever survived those she's definitely a goner" [smirk]

Lawrence: [curious] "Hmmm interesting, did you scan the suspect for further information?"

Lawrence knew this was his sister Meriella, but he hadn't seen her for years since he was a kid. She ran away and he believed she abandoned him, but he never liked her anyway and thought she was a freak who stopped aging at 26.

The AP: "Well… No I didn't sir but I'm sure her body is still out there, I can go back and do so. She should be dead by now".

Lawrence: "You underestimate things you do not understand. Whoever hired you into the patrol rankings is a imbecile. I want you to send a team of bots to obtain her and throw her in the cells for Meriella os surely alive! And after that don't come back! You're debunked".

President Lawrence instructed The AP to display his rating status bar. He promptly downgraded his status from a 5-star Arcadian to a 1-star, exercising his authority to override the system. "Good luck getting by after my announcement now that you're a 1 star; perhaps you should look into moving to The Undergrid. I heard it's quite nice".

The AP's eyes widened in horror as he stared at the ruins of his once-pristine reputation. His mind reeled in shock, unable to comprehend the sheer magnitude of his downfall. One moment, he was a 5-star officer, revered and respected by his peers; the next, he was a laughingstock, a 1-star has-been.

Lawrence's maniacal laughter still echoed in his ears, a cruel reminder of his own vulnerability. The AP's face contorted in a mixture of rage and despair as he stumbled backward, his eyes scanning the alleyway as if searching for an escape from his own mortification.

Years of dedication, hard work, and sacrifice – all undone in an instant. The AP's sense of identity, built around his reputation and prestige, lay in tatters. He felt like a hollow shell, a meaningless, insignificant speck in the grand scheme of things.

As the reality of his situation sunk in, the AP's demeanor transformed from shock to madness. His eyes took on a wild, unhinged glint, and his voice rose to a frenzied crescendo.

"No! No! NO!" he screamed, pounding his fists against the wall. "This can't be! I won't let it be! I'll get it back, I'll show them all! I'll..."

His words devolved into incoherent ramblings, a testament to the AP's complete unraveling. As he stood there, lost in his own private hell, the city around him seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the stark, haunting reality of his own downfall.

He walked away down the laboratory hallways down to the factory and pondered taking his life instead of facing telling his 5 star wife what just happened.

He walked straight out the factory pass all the robots and didn't complete his last duties President Lawrence gave him.

As he walked outside an glitching holographic ad glowed "Echo AI partners less hassle more Fun". For the first time, he contemplated just disappearing off-grid with a robot partner and never telling his wife about this, but with being debunked, he knew he wouldn't be able to afford the Arcadian City life anymore, never mind an AI life partner. He fell to his knees infront of the glitching Ad and weeped.

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Back to the rescue mission

As the Velox descended onto the teleport station's platform, the hum of its engines echoed through the desolate, grand brightly-lit landscape.

The sleek, black vehicle seemed almost otherworldly amidst the rows of dull, jetpacks.

Emerson and Leghorn, clad in leather jackets, exchanged a brief, weighted glance before pushing open their doors and stepping out into the crisp, recycled air.

Their movements were deliberate and calculated to avoid drawing attention. As they walked toward the grand, crystal-encrusted doors of the teleport station, their faces assumed neutral, almost bored expressions – just two more faceless travelers amidst the bustling throngs.

Meraki, with a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes, slid into the driver's seat, her fingers drumming a staccato beat on the steering wheel.

Her gaze flicked toward Bucky, who was watching the departing duo with an air of quiet intensity. She flashed him a quick, reassuring smile before turning her attention back to the gear stick.

As Emerson and Leghorn vanished into the teleport station's opulent interior, Meraki's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Time to get to work, Bucky. Our window is narrow – let's make the most of it". With that, the Velox glided silently out of the parking bay, disappearing into the streets of New Arcadia, ready to execute the next phase of their intricate plan.

🚗....

Emerson and Leghorn were greeted by a prestigious woman and they knew it wouldn't be easy getting teleported straight inside the factory, but they felt a relief seeing only one employee on duty, making it easier for Emerson to get straight into work.

Emerson's charming smile and silver-tongued words dripped like honey as he leaned in, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "We're in need of some assistance love, we're not asking for much. Just a small...accommodation. And we're willing to pay extra. I know President Lawrence isn't seeing to all your needs as the stats claim." He slid a hefty stack of Arcadian Dollars across the counter, the prestige woman's eyes widening as she took in the sum.

Coming across hard cash was a rare gem and if traded in at the Neo-Retro Market you could get double the amount transferred to your swatch cryptocurrency.

Leghorn stood silently beside Emerson, his presence a subtle reminder that they were not to be trifled with. But it was Emerson's charisma that worked its magic, his words weaving a spell of persuasion around the woman.

At first, she hesitated, her expression firm. "I'm afraid that's impossible, gentlemen. It's against protocol, and if the Arcadia Patrol were to find out..." She trailed off, her voice laced with the threat of consequences.

But Emerson was undeterred, his smile never wavering. He reached out, his fingers brushing against hers as he pushed the credits closer. "We're not asking you to compromise your values, dear lady. We're offering you an opportunity. This payment can change your life. You deserve it. You're a woman of refinement and taste, and it's clear you're not afraid of working hard but who takes care of you? You're a lady you should be treated well".

He glanced at her hand, his eyes lingering on the absence of a wedding ring. "It can't be easy, living in a city like New Arcadia, where status and wealth seem to rule everything. But you're a survivor, aren't you? And this...this can be your chance to upgrade your lifestyle, to take control of your own destiny".

The woman's resolve crumbled, her eyes locked on the credits as if mesmerized. With a quiet nod, she accepted the bribe, her fingers closing around the stack like a vice. She worked quickly, inputting a series of codes that would teleport Emerson and Leghorn directly into the Cygnus Factory.

As they disappeared, she deleted all records of their entry, covering her tracks with a practiced ease. The credits, now safely in her possession, seemed to burn with an inner fire, a promise of a better life, one where she wouldn't have to struggle to keep up appearances as a single woman in a city that seemed designed to chew her up and spit her out.

As Emerson and Leghorn stepped into the portal, they were immediately enveloped in a swirling vortex of colors and lights. The air around them seemed to thicken, like a warm, gelatinous hug, and the sound of gentle chimes filled their ears.

Emerson, ever the charmer, grinned at Leghorn. "Well, this is certainly a more pleasant experience than I expected. I feel like I'm being transported to a tropical paradise...or a disco party."

Leghorn rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Just enjoy the ride, Emerson."

As they were whisked away, the portal's energy began to play havoc with their physical forms. Emerson's hair stood on end, looking like he'd stuck his finger in a light socket, while Leghorn's eyes bulged out like a cartoon character's.

The sensation was akin to being put through a washing machine on high speed, with a dash of rollercoaster tossed in for good measure. Emerson's stomach dropped, and he felt a brief moment of weightlessness, as if he were floating in mid-air.

Leghorn, meanwhile, let out a series of involuntary whoops, his face contorted in a mixture of excitement and terror.

Just when it seemed like the portal was going to shake them apart at the molecular level, they emerged on the other side, stumbling out into the bright, fluorescent lighting of the Cygnus Factory.

Emerson took a deep breath, smoothing his ruffled hair. "Well, that was...enlightening. I think I left my stomach back in the portal, though."

Leghorn chuckled, clapping him on the back. "You're just not used to the finer things in life, Emerson. Now, shall we go find Meriella and get this show on the road?"

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