Infinite Progress, Starting with Arasaka

Vera pulled open the drawer behind the desk after drawing back the curtains. Weapon design blueprints: WWA Bullpup Assault Weapon, WMA Submachine Gun Mami 10, WSA Automatic Pistol, Tamayura, WCAA Rapid Assault Shotgun, WXA Computer-Aided Targeting Suite…

All of them were weapons Arasaka had long since phased out.

With Vera's clearance at Arasaka, she could basically view many of the weapons and blueprints developed and produced by Arasaka from the last century, before the Fourth Corporate War, at will.

They were already obsolete for Arasaka in 2074, hardly seen on the market, but for the era Umbrella was in, these pieces of equipment were excellent, outstanding, and sufficiently advanced.

"Drone factories, cybernetics, electronics, vehicles, munitions… For now, it's enough."

Being half a step ahead of the times makes you a genius; being a full step ahead makes you a lunatic.

You have to eat the rice one bite at a time. Even if Vera brought out things that were too far ahead, she wouldn't be able to protect them. Umbrella wouldn't be able to protect them either, but by releasing them little by little like this, just in the cybernetics market alone, there were about a billion disabled people who needed them.

Her mood instantly brightened. Vera leaned back in her executive chair, spinning a ballpoint pen in her left hand and picking up the desk phone with her right. She dialed a number.

Drake C. Simmons.

Chapter 012: The Ticket Off

Beep beep—

The dedicated encrypted line was quickly connected.

"Hello." A deep, powerful male voice sounded.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Simmons. I am Vera Adelheid Russell from Umbrella. Forgive the intrusion." Vera pressed the receiver to her ear and spoke enthusiastically in a typical American politician's formulaic tone.

A true man knows when to bend and when to stand firm. Umbrella wasn't Arasaka, and America here hadn't collapsed; it was still the world's overlord.

The other party was the U.S. National Security Advisor, a powerful figure in Washington, whose family influence was immense, with connections in both the underworld and legitimate circles. She, merely an executive of a legal pharmaceutical company, and not even the chairperson, should refrain from putting on airs.

Washington, D.C., The White House, Office of the Assistant to the President for National Security Affairs.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Russell."

In the prime of his life, Drake C. Simmons, behind his large solid wood desk, adjusted his posture comfortably while reviewing official documents. He spoke with a serious expression, "How may I be of service?"

We're all experienced enough to know better than to play games.

Simmons didn't believe that Vera, who had just been promoted by Umbrella's board of directors to the highest director of the newly established 'Black Umbrella' department, was calling to make small talk or discuss trivial matters.

"You are too kind,"

Vera said with a gentle smile, "Umbrella's growth is inseparable from America. As the new director of the Black Umbrella department, I hope to contribute my part to defending the values of the free world and maintaining social stability…"

Connecting the information she had collected and mastered, Vera's mind automatically sketched the image of an American elite in his thirties, dressed formally in a sharp suit, with meticulously styled dark brown hair swept back, exuding the aura of a mature uncle.

One judges others by their appearance.

Simmons was a radical pacifist in American politics, and his personal political leanings, repeatedly displayed to the public, were to protect social stability at all costs.

Whether it was fabricated or genuine, Vera used this as the basis for their conversation.

'Defending the values of the free world,' 'contribute my part'…

After Vera's fragmented words, wrapped in various flowery phrases, were pieced together, Simmons instantly grasped the main point. He then smiled faintly.

"Umbrella, a leader that has been cultivating the pharmaceutical and medical hardware fields for many years, has been making continuous strides in recent years, successfully opening up new industries such as bionic prosthetics, drones, electronics, and semiconductors. Are you not satisfied and preparing to officially step into the military industry?"

"Umbrella has the responsibility, the obligation, and also the capability."

Since Simmons had pointed it out, Vera naturally stopped being reserved.

"Is it Umbrella that has this capability… or is it you, Dr. Vera Adelheid Russell, an authority in the frontier research fields of modern bionic engineering and intelligent control technology?" Simmons said meaningfully.

He had been keeping an eye on Umbrella for some time.

Despite losing its two founders, Umbrella, which had become increasingly rigid and showed signs of relying on its past achievements, had, in recent years, bloomed with vitality like an old tree in spring. It was uncanny.

Those series of uncharacteristic actions were likely all orchestrated by the woman on the other end of the phone.

Vera merely smiled, not answering the question.

"Mr. Simmons, doesn't this question seem unrelated to the topic… Let's get back to the main point and discuss the official business of Umbrella establishing a factory on the West Coast." After obtaining fax permission, Vera transmitted the information she had prepared for Spencer to Simmons again.

It was a redacted version, but Vera believed that Simmons, as a seasoned politician, would surely understand the subtle hints of profit sharing within it.

Silence, the rustling sound of the fax machine working, the sound of pages being flipped. "Why not go through the state government? Or the GOP…" Simmons asked, seemingly casually.

"I chose you," Vera said sincerely.

Simmons paused abruptly.

"Why?" he asked.

"I personally agree with your views and opinions on peace, order, and stability, Mr. Simmons," Vera flattered him. Her words were sincere, as if she were truly a supporter of Simmons' political platform.

She couldn't exactly say, I know your flaws and weak points, you mattress-licking dog.

"If you aspire to run for local state elections or future presidential elections, Mr. Simmons, Umbrella will always be your most loyal supporter."

"…" Simmons was silent for a moment. He knew that this Umbrella referred to Vera's Black Umbrella division.

"Let's meet, Ms. Vera Adelheid Russell." Using a more intimate address, Simmons spread out the still-warm papers before him.

Tamayura, WWA Bullpup Assault Weapon, WXA Computer-Aided Targeting Suite…

As the National Security Advisor, the President's chief advisor on national security issues, the administrative manager of the national security decision-making process, and the coordinator of all intelligence information, Simmons was naturally well-versed in military standard equipment, deployment iterations, and pre-research weapon parameters.

If these weapon parameters are correct, they would completely outperform the equipment currently being bid on by the military for development... assuming Vera hasn't lied to me.

On this matter, Simmons believed Umbrella wouldn't dare to deceive Washington.

"It's my honor, and it was a pleasure speaking with you, Mr. Simmons."

"The honor is mine as well, Ms. Vera."

Beep, beep.

At the Umbrella building in San Francisco, Vera hung up the phone and shook her head with a wry smile. As expected of the capitalist world, all the preliminary pleasantries and flattery were less effective than demonstrating value and offering money. Oh, it wasn't called offering money, it was called political donations.

That's right, Vera was heavily bribing them, throwing money around!

For example, with the production workshop for the Tamayura pistol, Vera planned to give half the shares to the Simmons family. For other weapon production, she would also share profits. Only by doing this could she truly step into the military industry.

Drones, semiconductors, integrated circuits, electronic equipment… these could be used for both civilian and military purposes. Even though under Vera's leadership, several major deals had been finalized with the Pentagon, they were only considered sensitive technology industries, not even half of the military industry.

Only by truly entering the military industry could one obtain a full industry access qualification certificate.

In a while, there would be a charity auction hosted by the Simmons family, and she estimated she'd have to make a trip to Washington to discuss things face-to-face with Simmons.

Oh, she also had to participate deeply in the charity auction. Paintings by unknown artists, doodles by children who appeared out of nowhere – she'd have to spend a fortune a few times to complete the process.

There was also the master-level art and custom firearm auction hosted by the National Rifle Association; the press conference by the California state government regarding Umbrella's factory construction in San Francisco; the charity gala hosted by the Veterans Association for Umbrella's cybernetics project…

Vera was very busy.

She was seeking her own advancement, and also to distance herself from the stigma of the old Umbrella BOW project.

Buying her "ticket off the train" in advance.

The ship of Umbrella could sink, but she couldn't capsize with it!

"Mhm hmm~"

Spreading out the documents her secretary had placed on the desk, just as Vera was happily planning her disengagement from Umbrella and calculating how to make it more reasonable, several official letters appeared before her, causing her excitement to plummet to rock bottom.

Within the opened documents:

[Protest letter from environmental protection organizations and animal protection organizations regarding Umbrella's large-scale factory expansion that damages the natural environment]

[Protest and recommendation letter from anti-discrimination and equality organizations regarding Umbrella's unreasonable new employee recruitment]

"..."

After a long while, Vera managed to utter a curse, "Fuck!"

If the era wasn't so early, would people from diverse backgrounds also show up?

A taste of the American server, one cannot refuse.

'It's still more satisfying to throw my weight around at Arasaka.'

Chapter 013: Vera wants to vent, because—

A gunshot rang out.

A seductive figure collapsed onto the dirty ground.

A large-caliber heavy round entered her meticulously sculpted beautiful face, exiting through the back of her head. Bone fragments, along with a fan-shaped spray of red and white blood, scattered. Only half of her head, from the jaw up, moved with inertia as she tilted backward, crashing heavily onto the ground.

The corpse lay limply on the ground. Exposed and protruding damaged cybernetics components on it sparked in clusters. From time to time, her limbs twitched irregularly.

Scarlet human blood and milky white maintenance fluid flowed from the gash in her head, already staining the ground, slowly spreading within her indigo eyes.

Tap, tap…

Vera, dressed in Arasaka's black combat uniform with red lining, emerged from the shadows.

Putting down the RT-46 Storm Electromagnetic Revolver in her hand, Vera glanced sideways at the man beside her, who had collapsed in fear, his mouth agape, frozen in place, his mind a blank so much that he didn't even know to scream. Her indifferent face showed she was in a bad mood.

"Ahhhhh—!"

Only then did the man, his face covered in blood, flesh, and brain matter, belatedly let out a terrified howl.

Then, slap! slap, slap!

The heavy soldiers behind Vera stepped forward and delivered several loud slaps, silencing him.

Bang, bang, bang—!

Around them, following Vera's gunshot signal, a series of gunshots accompanied by the resistance of apprehended individuals and the screams of bystanders erupted simultaneously. Soon, the sounds subsided, and several Arasaka plainclothes agents, along with Arasaka heavy soldiers restraining the targets, calmly descended from the rooftop.

"Officer, how should we handle this guy?"

Vera's trusted subordinate, Jimmy, the acting captain of Special Rapid Response Unit Team 6, stepped forward. After handing over the target, whose limbs were twisted, face swollen, ICE countermeasure unit forcibly ripped off, cybernetics implanted with the Puppet Virus causing paralysis, and beaten into an unrecognizable state, to the plainclothes agents, he asked.

Puppet, simply put, is a virus. It's something uploaded during hacker intrusion protocols, integrated with script commands, allowing hackers to influence users within the network, achieve rapid cracking, or cause cybernetic malfunctions and burn out the target's brain – it all depends on how it's used.

ICE, specifically, refers to special defense programs designed to counter puppet attacks.

"Follow procedure."

Leaving behind that sentence, Vera turned and walked away.

"Yes..."

After nodding, Jimmy looked at the man who seemed to realize the problem and was even more terrified, shrugging.

"Idiot, you don't even know you're being targeted as an entry point by corporate spies. Would a person with a high-end sex doll chip installed like you? Go take a look in the mirror, even the loose change dropped from a gold digger casually fished for on Cloudtop is worth more than your monthly salary."

After wiping the bloodstains from his face, he looked presentable in his little suit, exuding the typical scent of a corporate drone.

Oh, he was a corporate drone, but not for long.

This case, cracked by the Counter-Intelligence Department, was simple in its cause and effect. A new administrative clerk in the Security Department had been targeted. Someone had used their visits to sex doll establishments as an entry point, planning to create intimacy through a staged encounter, and slowly plant an informant.

Arasaka didn't know when they would activate the informant, perhaps after this person was promoted a few more levels. But Arasaka discovered it beforehand and dealt with it.

The file of the person who caused the problem was currently with the Security Department. Counter-Intelligence had notified the senior management of the Security Department, and personnel were dispatched. They arrived just in time to catch them in the act. There were indeed hackers in the surrounding buildings, recording in real-time and secretly uploading the sex doll data, possibly for future blackmail.

Vera had witnessed the entire process, from the two men meeting, confiding in each other, touching each other in a corner, to passionately kissing until their lips were practically stuck together.

"Handing them over to you,"

Jimmy said to the plainclothes agent from Counter-Intelligence.

"Yamauchiura Masato, you are suspected of violating company regulations. You'll have to come with us."

The Arasaka agent from Counter-Intelligence took away the crestfallen Yamauchiura Masato and the suspect they had just apprehended, along with the dead sex doll.

Arasaka Security Department's armored hovercar.