Chapter 61: The Terrifying Lethality of Mosquitoes!

Arthur had a feeling the technology in Michael's lab wasn't just limited to production purposes. He wondered if it could serve other uses—like enhancing specific parts of the human body.

Not that Arthur had anything dubious in mind. He was thinking about applying the growth formula to hands, for example. Bigger hands could mean stronger punches—useful for those who relied on brute force to survive in Night City.

But Arthur's interest didn't stop there. This technology, as rare as it was, had potential market value. Selling it to the right buyer could fetch a hefty profit.

As for conducting research himself? Arthur knew better than to kid himself. High-end science required an astronomical amount of resources—advanced equipment, skilled personnel, and millions in funding.

In research, investing millions often produced little more than a single, frustrating result: a big "NO" on a report. The more money you sank into an experiment, the harder it was to abandon it, even when the outcome seemed bleak.

Arthur, coming from modest means, knew he wasn't cut out for this kind of gamble. Better to leave it to the mega-corporations that ruled the world. Sure, they'd turned Night City into a dystopian hellscape, but they were also the reason technological progress had accelerated so rapidly.

Amid his thoughts, Michael's pleas brought Arthur back to the moment.

"Stop! Please stop! I swear, I don't have the money!"

Arthur sighed, grabbed a can of insecticide, and sprayed it into a small box. Inside, several mosquitoes buzzed angrily.

Rock, still catching his breath from pummeling Michael, glanced at the box with curiosity. "What's in there?"

Arthur smirked. "Something rare. Mosquitoes."

Rock raised an eyebrow. "Mosquitoes? Never seen one in Night City before. They're smaller than flies. Cute little creatures."

Arthur nearly smacked him. "Cute? You think mosquitoes are cute? I should release them right now and let them feast on you. Let's see how cute you think they are then!"

Rock grinned sheepishly but couldn't take his eyes off the buzzing insects.

Michael, bloodied but still defiant, groaned from the floor. Rock frowned. "arthur, this guy is tougher than anyone I've met. Most rich people fold at the first punch. But this one? He's hanging on like he's made of steel."

Arthur chuckled darkly. "The rich people you've dealt with still had plenty of cushion—money they could afford to lose. Michael here? He's different. He's already hit rock bottom."

Arthur crouched down to meet Michael's gaze. His voice was calm but menacing.

"Once upon a time, you stood at the top of the world, didn't you, Michael? A glass of the finest whiskey in your hand, watching the storm outside as if it were a private show. You probably even muttered something ridiculous like, 'What beautiful weather.'"

Arthur tapped Michael's prosthetic cheek. The smooth texture was noticeably more refined than the cheap plastic most people in Night City could afford.

"But now? You're nothing. Just another has-been on the brink of ruin. And yet, you're still clinging to what little you have left. That's admirable... in a pathetic sort of way."

Michael flinched as Arthur leaned closer.

"So, here's the deal, Mr. Michael. You've got two options. One: cooperate. Hand over the money, sell a car or two, and maybe you'll scrape enough together to make another desperate play at success."

Arthur's tone grew colder. "Option two: I invade your brain-computer system, take every last credit in your account, and leave you drooling in the gutter. It's not personal—just business."

Arthur stood and glanced at his watch. "You've got two minutes to decide."

Rock, meanwhile, had returned to the mosquito box, fascinated by the tiny creatures flying in a frenzy from the insecticide spray.

"Are these really mosquitoes?" Rock asked. "I've only ever seen flies in Night City. These guys are so much smaller... and kinda adorable!"

Arthur groaned. "Rock, do you hear yourself? Adorable? These things aren't pets—they're pests! And if you so much as think about taking one with you, I'll shoot you myself. Got it?"

Rock's grin faded, but his curiosity remained.

Michael, still sprawled on the floor, mumbled something unintelligible. Arthur ignored him, his focus shifting back to the mosquitoes.

Despite Michael's exaggerations, Arthur knew the danger these enhanced insects posed. Even if they couldn't achieve everything Michael claimed, they didn't need to. The ability to pierce prosthetic skin alone was horrifying enough.

In a city like Night City, where even the poorest residents had cybernetic modifications, these mosquitoes could wreak havoc.

Arthur shuddered. "If these things breed, Night City could be swarming with them in six months. Maybe less."

Rock tilted his head. "It's just mosquitoes, man. What's the big deal?"

Arthur's jaw tightened. "You really don't get it, do you? Mosquitoes aren't just annoying—they're deadly. They're carriers for diseases. And in a cesspool like Night City, where half the population already has compromised immune systems? It'd be a disaster."

He gestured toward the box. "Think about it, Rock. Infectious diseases spreading like wildfire, people dying in the streets, entire districts quarantined. Night City's already a mess. Add a mosquito-borne epidemic, and it's game over."

Rock frowned, finally grasping the gravity of the situation.

Arthur continued, "Remember the Bird Extermination Act? Back in the 2050s and '60s, Night City lost tens of thousands of people to a virus spread by birds. If mosquitoes come back, it'll be worse. Much worse."

He shook his head. "Honestly, it won't just be Night City. These things could wipe out humanity. The rest of the world might already be a desert wasteland, but this... this would finish the job."

Arthur's gaze hardened as he turned back to Michael. "That's why you're going to cooperate, Michael. You're going to hand over everything you've got—the money, the research, the formula. Because if you don't, I'll make sure you can't hurt anyone ever again."

Michael trembled, finally breaking under the weight of Arthur's words.

Rock leaned closer to the box, muttering, "Still think they're kinda cute, though."

Arthur sighed. "Idiot."

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