Chapter 57: Basement!

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In fact, there was no "good news" at all. Everything Arthur had heard so far was bad news. The fundamental purpose of the mission was to get money, and without it, the task would remain incomplete. Even if Jack twisted Michael's head off and handed it to the workers to use as a chamber pot, it wouldn't solve their lack of funds.

"Shit! I sacrificed so much and spent so much money sneaking into this manor, and now you're telling me there might not be any money?" Jack ranted, pacing back and forth. He was wearing a little pink skirt, his two hairy legs exposed for all to see. The sight was, to say the least, striking.

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes briefly to avoid looking directly at Jack. "Calm down," he said, exhaling deeply.

After a moment of thought, Arthur said, "It doesn't necessarily mean there's no money at all. We need to check for ourselves. Sometimes what we call 'rich' isn't the same as what they consider 'rich.'"

Arthur's words carried a bitter truth. Before his time travel, his boss often claimed he was broke whenever it was time to pay wages. In reality, the man had plenty of personal wealth but was simply unwilling to part with company funds. The main issue, Arthur concluded, was shamelessness.

Hearing this, Jack's spirits rose. He immediately gripped his two guns tightly, a murderous glint flashing in his eyes. Even if Michael turned out to be bankrupt, Jack seemed fully prepared to sell him off to scavengers.

Arthur drew his own weapon, tossed aside the sparkling water he'd been sipping, and gestured for Jack to follow him toward the basement. The closer they got, the stronger the chemical stench became. It was pungent and irritating, somewhat akin to the polluted air of Night City, though with a sharper, more chemical tang.

Arthur wrinkled his nose in disgust. "One day, I'll become mayor and force every company to install air purification and sewage treatment systems."

Jack snorted. "If you ever run for office, I'm not voting for you. I'm afraid you'll make all the men in Night City wear women's clothing."

Arthur shot him an annoyed look. "This isn't about me being a pervert; it's about completing the mission!"

Jack raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Really? You seem to be enjoying it a little too much."

Ignoring him, Arthur led the way down the stairs to the basement door. The place, which should have been heavily guarded given its function as a secure storage area, appeared abandoned. The scanning camera on the door had been torn off and was now hanging limply by a few wires. The turret gun mounted on the ceiling was equally useless, its muzzle drooping like a wilted flower.

Jack inspected the area carefully, raising his pistol slightly higher just in case. "Schools in Night City are practically gang headquarters now. Who even studies anymore?"

Arthur nodded absentmindedly, his focus on the task at hand. Slowly, he pushed the basement door open just a crack and peered inside. The room was dimly lit, with only the faint glow of chemical reagents in barrels scattered around.

Before Arthur could step inside, a hoarse voice echoed from within.

"Yes, that's it… it's almost done. I'm a genius! Soon, I'll be back on top!"

"No, no, it has to be done this way!"

The voice was filled with manic energy, sending chills down Arthur's spine. He motioned for Jack to stay quiet, then kicked the door open with a loud crash.

The door slammed against the walls on either side, revealing the dimly lit basement. Arthur held his gun steady, aiming at the source of the voice. "Don't move!" he barked.

Jack followed closely, his twin pistols aimed and ready. "Hands up!"

But Michael, the man at the center of the chaos, didn't react. Standing at a cluttered workstation, he continued fiddling with a variety of glowing chemicals and biological samples.

The dim light revealed a grotesque scene. The table was covered in dissected creatures—likely rats or cockroaches, given Night City's fauna. The air was thick with the overpowering smell of chemicals, so much so that Arthur pinched his nose.

"What the hell is wrong with this guy?" Jack muttered, keeping his guns trained on Michael.

Arthur frowned. Michael's behavior was eerily similar to cyberpsychosis, a condition usually reserved for the downtrodden of Night City, not the wealthy elite.

"Michael!" Arthur called out sharply, but the man didn't so much as flinch.

"Why is he so obsessed with this stuff?" Jack asked, unnerved by Michael's unresponsiveness.

Arthur stepped closer, carefully scanning the room for any hidden threats. The barrels of glowing chemicals, combined with Michael's mutterings, painted a disturbing picture.

"Michael!" Arthur shouted again, but the man continued to ignore them, muttering to himself.

"He's lost it," Jack said, his voice laced with unease.

Arthur nodded grimly. "We need to shut this operation down. Whatever he's working on, it can't be good."

Suddenly, Michael turned, his face a mix of elation and madness. "You're too late! It's almost complete!"

Arthur didn't hesitate. "Step away from the table!"

Michael's grin widened as he reached for a lever on the console. Arthur reacted instantly, firing a warning shot that narrowly missed Michael's hand.

"Don't push me," Arthur warned.

Michael froze, staring at the bullet hole in the wall. For a moment, the room was silent except for the faint hum of machinery. Then, with a crazed laugh, Michael stepped back from the console, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"Fine, fine. No need to get violent," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Jack exchanged a glance with Arthur, both of them unsure if Michael was genuinely surrendering or stalling for time.

"Jack, check the console," Arthur ordered, keeping his gun trained on Michael.

Jack moved cautiously, his pistols still aimed at the deranged scientist. As he approached the workstation, he noticed several vials filled with glowing liquids, their labels covered in cryptic symbols.

"What the hell is this stuff?" Jack muttered.

Arthur glanced at the chemicals but kept his focus on Michael. "We'll figure it out later. For now, we need to secure him and get out of here."

Michael laughed again, the sound echoing through the basement. "You think you can just take me? You have no idea what you're dealing with!"

Before Arthur could respond, Michael lunged toward the console. Arthur fired a shot, this time hitting Michael in the shoulder. The man cried out in pain but managed to slam his hand down on a button.

The room was suddenly bathed in red light as an alarm blared. Arthur cursed under his breath. "Jack, grab what you can and let's move!"

Jack quickly scooped up a handful of vials and shoved them into his bag. Arthur kept his gun trained on Michael, who was now slumped against the console, laughing weakly.

"You're too late… you'll never stop it…" Michael whispered, blood dripping from his shoulder.

Arthur didn't wait to find out what he meant. "Let's go!" he shouted, pulling Jack toward the exit.

As they sprinted up the stairs, the sound of machinery whirring to life echoed behind them. Whatever Michael had activated, it was already in motion.

Bursting out of the basement, they didn't stop running until they were far from the manor. Only then did they pause, breathing heavily.

"What now?" Jack asked, holding up the stolen vials.

Arthur looked at the glowing liquids, his expression grim. "Now, we figure out what the hell we just walked into."

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