"You don't understand, sir," the principal said after patiently listening to Arthur's entire pitch.
His voice was polite, but firm.
"In this area of Night City, every inch of land is precious. Arasaka Academy itself is already operating on a razor-thin margin. Where would we find the funds to build dormitories?"
Arthur leaned back in the chair, sipping his tea leisurely, as if he had been expecting this exact response.
After all, to a corporation, everything was profit and loss.
Dead students?
As long as the tuition was paid up front, who cared?
Building dormitories? Providing safety?
Unprofitable.
Not happening.
Arthur smiled faintly.
"The principal has stayed in his current position for a long time, hasn't he?"
The principal blinked.
A strange look crossed his face.
After a moment of hesitation, he nodded slowly.
"...It's true.
Perhaps... perhaps because I failed to meet the company's promotion standards."
It slipped out before he could stop himself — as if Arthur's voice carried a strange magic that loosened his tongue.
Normally, he wouldn't have said something so vulnerable to a stranger.
But Arthur's words had pierced right into his heart — the secret frustration he felt every day as he stared at his stagnant career.
He sat atop a prestigious title: Principal of Arasaka Academy.
But in reality?
The school was fully automated.
AI taught the classes.
AI maintained the buildings.
Even the janitors were soon to be replaced by cleaning drones.
Without people to manage, there was no real power.
Just an empty title, gathering dust.
A gilded retirement home.
Arthur put down his teacup lightly.
"In a company like Arasaka, profit is king.
If you can't show performance... well, you stay where you are. Forgotten."
"But..." Arthur smiled slowly, like a devil offering a tempting deal.
"There was no opportunity before."
"Now, there's an opportunity — right in front of you."
"It all depends on whether you're brave enough to take it."
The principal straightened unconsciously, his fingers tightening slightly around his cup.
"...You mean the dormitories?" he asked cautiously.
Arthur's smile widened.
Gotcha.
He leaned forward, voice low and confident:
"Think about it."
"We design the dormitories with the best architects.
Elevator entrances, sky gardens, rooftop pools — all the luxury extras."
"All equipment sourced from Arasaka subsidiaries, of course.
Elevators? Arasaka Tech.
Smart kitchens? Arasaka HomeLife."
"Even the cafeteria will serve exclusively licensed Arasaka food products."
Arthur's voice dripped with temptation.
"And once the dorms are complete — full closed management.
Students must eat, sleep, and shop inside the school."
"Everything they spend?
Every single penny?
Goes through Arasaka Academy."
"And because it's for student safety, naturally everything will cost a little more."
Arthur took another slow sip of tea, watching the principal's eyes grow brighter by the second.
He could already see it:
A guaranteed cash flow.
An empire within an empire.
Students trapped inside like little obedient golden geese, endlessly laying eggs.
The principal stood up suddenly, unable to contain his excitement.
He grabbed Arthur's hand and shook it vigorously.
"Sir!" he said, eyes shining.
"Your proposal is visionary! Truly for the sake of the children!"
Arthur smiled politely, resisting the urge to wipe his hand off immediately.
(So fake it makes my teeth ache.)
But Arthur wasn't finished.
A deal wasn't a deal until he squeezed out the last bit of benefit.
He added with a modest chuckle:
"You're too kind. Principal, you're clearly a man of great wisdom and compassion."
"As they say — to lead is to serve, especially when it comes to safeguarding our youth."
The principal almost shed tears from being praised so highly.
Arthur quickly continued:
"By the way, about David's... minor incident with the Mewtwo equipment—"
Before Arthur could finish, the principal waved his hands magnanimously.
"Not an issue! Not an issue at all!"
"A good child occasionally makes mistakes. It's the fault of the teacher for not guiding them properly."
"In fact, in light of Mr. Arthur's outstanding contributions and sincere dedication to the school's future—"
"I've decided to waive David's compensation entirely."
Arthur laughed heartily, tapping the table lightly.
"Oh, Principal, you are too generous."
"But... housing fees for the new dormitory, I wonder...?"
The principal beamed.
"Rest assured! Every year we receive generous donations from outstanding citizens like yourself."
"David will be included in our special sponsorship program. No tuition or accommodation fees needed."
Arthur nodded with satisfaction.
In Night City, if you didn't hustle a little every day, you weren't really alive.
After sealing the verbal agreement, Arthur put down his teacup.
"Now, about the damaged Mewtwo gear — where is it?"
"I happen to be a bit of a mechanical expert myself."
The principal led Arthur toward the computer lab with a big smile — more out of formality than expectation.
He didn't actually believe Arthur could fix anything.
Come on.
If you had the skills and money to repair Arasaka's proprietary Mewtwo tech, you wouldn't have to haggle over dormitory fees.
Still, letting Arthur "try" would make it all look good on paper.
If it got fixed, great.
If it didn't, blame the equipment. Order a new batch.
(More procurement contracts = more kickbacks. Win-win.)
Soon, they arrived at the ruined computer lab.
The room was modular, built to standard corporate specs.
Rows of damaged Mewtwo VR rigs sat lifelessly, their data ports fried, their connection hubs melted by David's virus.
The scene looked like a battlefield after a minor war.
Arthur knelt casually next to one broken unit and pulled out a small toolkit.
In Night City, having a "mechanical expert" on your team usually meant someone who could slap duct tape on a smoking engine and pray.
But Arthur?
Arthur was different.
He didn't pray.
He fixed things.
(End of Chapter 42!)