Chapter 50: The All-Too-Familiar Bad Ending

Bang!
A spray of blood burst skyward from Bain’s head.

Arthur pushed down the storm of questions raging inside him as he stared at the blue chip in his hand. All he could do now was hope V would wake soon—so she could dig into the data, find out if it held the kind of drug that could make neural cells divide again.

Meanwhile, V—collapsed on the ground—was trapped inside a vision in her mind, vivid as any full-dive Braindance.

The world jolted violently. Iron bars lined the walls before her, throwing shifting shadows across her face with each bump. She was clearly inside a vehicle.
A dogcatcher van, judging by the cage-like metal all around.

Two men’s voices carried from the front, thick with cruelty.
“That woman’s gonna lose her mind!”
“Crazy? Who isn’t? No money, we’d all lose it.”

The acrid stink of cheap smoke drifted back—so harsh it smelled like burning paper.

“Think she’s worth much?”
“Ha! Don’t worry. They pay top eddies for healthy bodies without implants. The purer, the pricier. Heh, we’re rich this time!”
“Still… she’s like a kid we watched grow up. Her mom broke her back just to get her through school. Feels wrong.”
“Wrong, my ass! If you’d wipe that stupid grin off your face, I might believe you.”

Their laughter spilled back.
“Hahaha…”
“Hehehe…”
“Once we get paid, we’ll party till we drop!”

V’s body twitched, beyond her control.
Damn it. This was Braindance tech. This had to be a memory.

The attack speed of an ICE Daemon depends on memory size—the deadlier the trap, the slower it strikes. Edited memories like this usually ran small. Maybe it wouldn’t take long.

The memory loaded with only three senses—sight, hearing, and smell. The rest had been stripped away to save space.

The girl whose body V was inhabiting—her legs were already mangled, twisted into useless shapes, flopping with each bump of the ride.

Her vision glitched out in static. When it cleared, the perspective had shifted to a place V recognized: wheat fields, tall and golden, stretching endlessly along a dirt road, leading to a gate.

The girl was dragged out. Her broken legs scraped the ground, leaving twin trails of blood, pale flesh showing through torn skin.

Then hands lifted her onto a stretcher. From it, she could still see the men’s backs, and hear their muffled voices.
“Dammit, look how much you tore her up. I told you not to overdo it.”
“Fuck off! I found this deal—you’re lucky I even brought you in! Besides, we can still trick her mom. Everyone knows pairs go for more.”

The girl blacked out. V’s vision went dark with her.

Another burst of static tore through her sight. Then—suddenly—a noodle shop.

She was sitting across from two men. One fat, with beady dark eyes despite his honest look. The other thin, sharp-cheeked, with a cruel face.

“It’s true. We saw it. She was shoved into a dogcatcher van.”
“Yeah. Pulled right to the curb. A few guys jumped out. Kid was so skinny, barely fought back before they dragged her in.”
“Hmm… don’t remember much else. But we’ll take you there.”

V couldn’t hear her own voice, only the hurried footsteps as her body rushed after them out of the shop.

Her vision glitched again, shorter this time.

Two perspectives jammed into her head at once: the girl’s disappearing legs, and the lined face of a middle-aged woman with streaks of gray hair.

And another face—tall, thin, sunken cheeks, a crooked grin.

V recognized him immediately. Bain.

Her vision split—his face from the front, his back from the other angle as he leaned toward the woman. The twisted view made her stomach churn.

“You can’t blame me. I paid. Not a small sum, either. That’s how the world works. Sometimes… people just get unlucky.”

With his eerie smile burned into her mind, the memory cut to black again.

When V opened her eyes, Arthur and Rebecca’s faces hovered above her.
She let out a shaky breath.

“Fucking Bain Linton. Add this to the list—we kill that animal.”

Arthur and Rebecca shifted aside, revealing the body lying behind them.

“What the hell? That bastard’s dead?”

V struggled upright, still forcing herself to check.
“And suicide, no less. Doesn’t sit right.”

Arthur’s voice came from behind.
He could feel the killing intent radiating off her, though he had no idea what she’d just lived through.
But now wasn’t the time.

He pulled out the blue chip and explained its origin.
“I’ll try running it. But I’m not plugging it into my head—so it might take longer.”

V took the chip, breathing hard, and after a pause her fury finally began to fade.

The central pillar lit up, data cascading down its surface as her fingers flew across the console.

“David’s mom is hurt. She needs a drug that can trigger neural cell division. Check if it’s here.”
Arthur stood close, watching.

“Let me see…”

Lines of data scrolled down, thinning until they vanished.

“Got it. Cold storage. There’s a batch ready to go.
And with this, I’ll have something to take back up top too.”

V yanked the chip out, tucking it into her jacket lining.

Arthur nodded.
“Then let’s go. Time to settle this for David.”

They moved toward the same door Bain had used earlier.

Inside, the answer to where the missing people had gone was clear.

A briefing hall, packed wall to wall with bodies. Rows of corpses, blood seeping from every orifice.

V crouched by one, checking quickly.
“Not long dead. Still warm—their muscles had only just slackened. Their brains were fried. Bain must’ve left backdoors in all of them.”

Arthur swept the room. A hundred bodies, at least. All of them—Bain’s handiwork.
At least it meant less ammo wasted.

The three pressed on, stepping over corpses until they reached another door.

“According to the chip, this is the storage. Lots of drugs, most of them tested. The one we need is in here.”

Arthur pushed the door open. A wave of cold air rushed out, tinged purple by the glow inside.

The chamber wasn’t large, shelves lining the walls, white frost clinging to the metal.

“D 6 782…” V muttered, following the numbers until she found it.

Small silver-white briefcases sat neatly stacked.

Arthur flipped one open. Inside lay a glass tube, thick as a baby’s arm, filled with glowing green liquid that shimmered under the purple light.

“We’re out of time. Let’s move.”

He snapped the case shut and led them back the way they came.

But before they’d gone far, Jackie’s voice broke over comms—
...along with the rattle of heavy gunfire in the distance.