As soon as the topic shifted to money, Arthur instantly became energized.
"I'm telling you, Lucy, there's no comparison between suppressors and inhibitors!"
Lucy frowned and flipped through the data Arthur had sent earlier.
After a moment, she nodded thoughtfully.
"You're right," she said. "Compared to your suppressor, inhibitors are worse.
You have to inject them regularly, the dosage has to be precise, and after a while, they lose effectiveness because of drug resistance."
Arthur froze.
His cigarette almost fell from his mouth.
He looked at Lucy in disbelief:
"Who told you that nonsense?
Inhibitors are obviously better!
Think about it: as long as the customer's alive, they have to keep buying inhibitors over and over!"
"But with suppressors?" Arthur shook his head dramatically. "One-time sale. Done."
Lucy was stunned silent.
Slowly, she took out a cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag—
Only for Arthur to shamelessly steal it out of her mouth and smoke it himself.
She didn't even react.
She was still digesting Arthur's words.
So this... is the mind of a true capitalist?
No wonder the corpo rats always got rich. I was thinking about effectiveness, but he's thinking about eternal profit.
Arthur happily puffed on the strawberry-flavored cigarette and leaned back.
"And that's not all! I need you to tweak the program."
Lucy raised an eyebrow warily.
"Tweak it how?"
Arthur grinned wider.
"First, reduce the suppressor's real performance to 50%.
Then, connect the chip to the Net and stuff it full of ads."
Lucy's eyelids twitched.
"And finally," Arthur continued, "we sell the chip at just 20% above cost price."
"When people buy it, they'll have to spend an hour a day watching ads.
If they want to skip ads, they'll have to pay for a membership."
Lucy inhaled sharply, her mind spinning.
At first, it didn't sound that bad. A 20% markup was reasonable. A lifetime suppressor was a good deal.
But... daily mandatory ads?
Still, she tried to be objective:
"If I become a member," she asked, "do I skip ads?"
Arthur sneered:
"Skip ads?
Of course not! Ordinary members still get selected ads — just 5 minutes a day."
"And if you pay even more," Arthur continued proudly, "you can upgrade to higher membership tiers."
He held up his fingers and started counting:
"First, Ordinary Member: watch ads for 5 minutes instead of 60."
"Black Iron Member: skip ads completely."
"Bronze Member: suppressor efficiency boosted by 10%."
"Silver Member: another 10% boost."
"Gold Member: full 30% boost — reaching the chip's true full performance."
Arthur slapped the dashboard in excitement.
"Think about it!
Every poor bastard will have to pay just to get what they already bought!"
"Membership fees, ad revenues... it's genius!"
Arthur parked the car casually on the side of the road, beaming like he'd just discovered perpetual motion.
"Soon," he said dreamily, "I'll move out of Santo Domingo.
I'll live in a skyscraper downtown.
Be a CEO. Marry a bunch of hot babes.
Reach the absolute peak of my life!"
Lucy just stared at him.
Completely speechless.
What the hell did I just hear...?
This wasn't just a scam.
It was a plan to harvest the entire Night City!
Everyone.
Rich, poor — it didn't matter.
Anyone who bought Arthur's suppressor would either watch ads like a dog or spend every last Eurodollar buying memberships to survive.
Lucy shuddered.
This guy... was born to be a corpo.
Without thinking, she lit another cigarette.
Arthur's hand reached for it, but this time she dodged, tossing the whole pack at him.
"Hiss..." she exhaled deeply.
"Every pore on your body reeks of capitalism's filth."
Arthur caught the cigarette pack casually, plucked one out, and stuffed the rest into his jacket without hesitation.
"Compared to those corpo rats running Night City," Arthur said with a smirk,
"I'm just a humble apprentice."
Lucy narrowed her eyes.
"So what? You want me to help you pull this off?"
Arthur shrugged.
"If you don't want to, that's fine."
"I just figured you wouldn't mind making a little dirty money."
Lucy took another slow drag of her cigarette, then grinned.
"No, no. I want in."
"But not as a contractor."
"I want shares."
Arthur shook his head instantly.
"Sorry, no plans to open up equity."
"But..." He grinned slyly.
"I can offer you a job: Chief Network Security Officer."
"I'll need someone to protect the suppressor program once it's out there.
Plenty of people will try to crack it and remove the ads."
Lucy exhaled a long plume of smoke and muttered:
"Damn... I'm really gonna become a company dog at this rate..."
Arthur stepped out of the car and surveyed the surrounding area.
They had arrived.
Before him stood the factory he now owned — courtesy of his crazy fellow cyberpsycho "brother."
The factory was...
Abandoned.
Covered in graffiti, cracked walls, and a few broken windows.
A classic Night City hellhole.
Arthur sucked his teeth.
"Tsk.
I really need to find the real estate agent who tricked my poor brother into buying this place."
"That guy deserves a medal."
Lucy climbed out of the car behind him, frowning.
Several sketchy-looking guys — refugees, probably from the Voodoo Boys — were eyeing them from a distance.
Lucy muttered under her breath:
"You sure about this?"
"The Voodoo Gang doesn't like outsiders."
Arthur shrugged.
"No big deal."
"I just need to stick a few 'Private Property, No Trespassing' signs around and shoot anyone who ignores them."
"Simple Night City diplomacy."
Lucy facepalmed.
She had a very bad feeling about this.