Arcane: Thicker Than Blood

Mel didn't let Cipher lead the way. Instead, she had Jayce drive her around on his motorcycle.

Seeing this, Cipher tactfully followed behind. After all, Heimerdinger didn't need to take samples or conduct analysis, he just had to examine the scene to figure out how to solve the severe environmental pollution problem.

"The particulate density here is 37% lower than my previous readings!" Heimerdinger exclaimed, adjusting his specialized scientific telescope.

"Is that good, Professor?" Powder asked, leaning over to peek through the device.

"It's miraculous! At this rate of improvement, these lower sectors could have breathable air within five years!"

But gradually, Cipher realized something. The places Mel was visiting were all former underground establishments once controlled by the Chem-Barons: brothels, casinos, illicit hallucinogen shops, chemtech labs that bought corpses, and flesh factories. Many of these dark businesses were ones he had personally led raids on, leaving a deep impression.

Zaun's streets were a tangled maze, yet she navigated them effortlessly without a map. Even Cipher had no idea how she was finding these places with such precision.

"You know Zaun surprisingly well," Jayce commented as they turned down yet another unmarked alley.

"I make it my business to understand what I invest in," Mel replied casually.

Cipher twisted the throttle's handle, revving the engine and accelerating to catch up. He wanted to ask Mel about her intentions, hopefully, she wasn't digging up dirt on him again.

The motorcycle lurched forward with a mechanical roar.

"Ahh, at least give a warning before you speed up! I nearly flew off!"

Heimerdinger had been using a specialized scientific telescope of his own invention to observe the Undercity environment, occasionally explaining scientific terms to Powder. Cipher's sudden acceleration caught him off guard. Given his small stature, if Cipher hadn't caught him in time, he would have been thrown off entirely.

Heimerdinger clutched his chest dramatically.

Powder, on the other hand, had no trouble at all. Despite still being a child, she had trained in boxing with Vi from a young age, giving her excellent balance.

"Haha, Professor, you looked so cute just now!" Seizing the opportunity while helping Heimerdinger steady himself, she reached out to ruffle his fluffy head. "Your face! Your whiskers went all—" She made an exaggerated puffing motion with her cheeks.

"Professor, sorry about that. I just suddenly thought of something I need to ask Councilor Medarda."

Cipher's apology lacked sincerity. He was more concerned with the fact that Mel's motorcycle was still picking up speed. Before long, he caught up to her and Jayce, who were enjoying their time together, chatting and laughing.

Since there was something to discuss, Cipher and Jayce tacitly pulled their motorcycles to a stop.

"These aren't tourist attractions, Councilor," Cipher said, gesturing to the building beside them. "These were cancer cells I personally cut out of Zaun's body."

"And yet you knew exactly what they were the moment we arrived," Mel replied evenly.

"Because I was the surgeon."

"Precisely my point."

"The places you're visiting were all shady businesses run by the Chem-Barons. I shut them down long ago. Now, they operate legitimate businesses, there's nothing interesting to see here."

There was a hint of dissatisfaction in Cipher's voice. His gut told him Mel was up to something again. The last couple of days had been exhausting, and frankly, he wasn't in the mood to deal with more of her schemes.

"No, this has been very interesting. I've confirmed a few things." Mel smiled and shook her head.

"What things?"

Cipher couldn't grasp her meaning.

"Words are easy. Actions are what matter," Mel said, studying his face.

"And my actions don't match my words?"

"That's what I came to determine."

"The Book of Revolution you wrote for Viktor, I find its ideas quite fascinating."

Mel stated her reason directly.

"I want to know whether the man who wrote the the book is truly a noble leader of change or just a cunning manipulator peddling propaganda. That's why I had to see the Undercity for myself, to observe how you're developing it and how you handle its filth."

"Those unsavory businesses, while disgraceful, were undeniably profitable."

She seemed to be in a good mood, her face carrying a relaxed, genuine smile, one that wasn't just a diplomatic facade.

"You could have just asked," Cipher said with a wry smile.

"Would I have gotten an honest answer?" Mel raised an eyebrow.

"Probably not. Politicians rarely do, right?"

Mel smiled. "And yet you are one now."

"A reluctant one. So, it seems you're satisfied with what I've done?"

Realizing Mel wasn't here to cause trouble, he let out a breath of relief, his mood lifting as well.

"Not bad. Zaun under your leadership has certainly surprised me."

Mel didn't deny it. Her gaze fell on a charity shop run by Zaun's city government.

"Oh, this is where Mylo got sick that time! Remember, Cipher? Now it's all clean!" Powder pointed excitedly at a recently renovated water station.

"That's right. No more green water," Cipher confirmed with a gentle smile.

"Green water? What caused the coloration?" Heimerdinger inquired, his scientific curiosity piqued.

Cipher and Powder exchanged glances before answering simultaneousl. "You don't want to know."

The store sold only a few simple items, barely making any profit. The staff inside were people appointed by the government, most of them unable to perform physical labor.

These charity shops were established specifically for those who couldn't hold regular jobs, giving them something to do and ensuring they had a meal to eat.

But Mel knew that this particular store had a darker past. Before its transformation, it had been an chemtech facility specializing in the purchase of "people," regardless of whether they were dead or alive. Those taken were often used as expendable materials in alchemical research.

"That building, wasn't it some kind of drug den before?" she asked, pointing to a structure across the street.

"Chemical enhancement parlor, they called it. Now it's a clinic. Same chemists, different purpose," Cipher explained.

"Ah, rehabilitation instead of addiction," Mel observed. "The policies you've implemented in Zaun align closely with what you wrote in the Book of Revolution."

For the first time, she acknowledged Cipher's efforts. She wasn't someone easily fooled, she trusted what she saw with her own eyes more than anything she heard.

"Your welfare programs, the infrastructure improvements, the environmental cleanup, the costs must be astronomical."

"They are," Cipher admitted.

"How are you handling the financial burden? Your governance model requires continuous investment. Improving the living conditions of an entire city demands an astronomical amount of funds. Zaun's current industries, wireless communication and military manufacturing, surely aren't enough to sustain that."

Mel was genuinely curious about this problem. With her experience in governance and business acumen, she couldn't think of a perfect solution.

"No, Councilor Medarda, it's actually more than enough," Cipher countered, his tone carrying a deeper meaning. "The reason you think it's insufficient is because in Piltover, there are too many people taking a piece of the cake and too few actually baking it. Less than one percent of the resources go where they're truly needed. But here, that number is one hundred percent."

"Wealth flows up like heat, always escaping to the highest point. We've redesigned the system. No leaks, no unnecessary extractions."

"Impossible. Even the most efficient systems have waste," Mel challenged.

"True. But our waste isn't yachts and mansions. It's second helpings at dinner tables. So even with an economy far smaller than the Upper City's, we can accomplish things Piltover never could."

The cost of social welfare wasn't as high as it seemed, so long as no one pocketed the money without doing the work, the output would always be enough.

Mel didn't press further, but it wasn't because she lacked interest. Rather, she had already realized that whatever methods Cipher could use, she could not.

Piltover was ruled by the Council and the industrial barons. Getting them to relinquish wealth was nearly impossible, unless a blade was at their throats, it was out of the question. Even thinking about it would be a crime.

Having confirmed that Cipher was truly an honorable leader of change, Mel seemed to let go of some lingering doubts.

The rest of the day was spent touring the undercity, taking in the stark contrast between Zaun and Piltover.

Night fell, and after a long day, Cipher finally returned to The Last Drop. He had a quick dinner before heading to his room to rest.

Two days without sleep had pushed him to his limit. The moment he lay down, he sank into a deep slumber.

The last thought before darkness claimed him was a simple calculation: how many more days until Zaun could stand truly independent.

It was unclear how much time had passed when a faint, metallic sliding sound stirred him from his sleep, followed by a rhythmic tapping, like a sharp blade stepping precisely across the floor, approaching from a distance until it stopped right beside his bed.

A sound like precision-engineered metal against wood.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Measured. Deliberate. Approaching.

"Who's there?"

Cipher snapped awake, instantly reaching under his pillow for his two Wingman, scanning the room cautiously, nothing.

He threw off the blanket and stepped onto the floor, guns cocked and ready, but no one was in sight.

He swept the room with military precision, weapons at the ready, checking corners, closets, under the bed, nothing.

The door remained closed, without any sign of forced entry.

"Not coming out?"

He was being watched. He was certain of it.

A realization struck him, whoever had entered was powerful, far beyond his own abilities.

But he couldn't think of anyone in in Piltover or Zaun who posed a threat to him. He wasn't just some random gunman, he had trained under a sharpshooting expert in the deadliest parts of High Desert.

Based on the timeline, none of the characters from Arcane should have the ability to slip past him unnoticed.

Then, from the exact spot he had just checked, "Relax. No matter the circumstances, there's always time for a cup of tea," a cool, mechanical-tinged female voice suddenly spoke from behind him, accompanied by the rich aroma of black tea.