In the Underhive, the line between a doctor and a butcher is usually razor-thin. Those so-called "roving medics" claim to save lives, but in reality, they are often just eyeing your parts. You go in to treat a gunshot wound, and they might decide your kidney is worth a fortune or your magic pills are a fine prize, conveniently harvesting them to settle your bill. This is why Underhivers would rather rot at home than dare seek medical attention.
"When I arrived, I integrated all of them," Sisyphron said, drawing a circle on the map with his hand.
"I gave them a unified uniform—beak masks and black coats—to build a brand image. I gave them a unified creed—that pain purifies the soul—to establish a religious culture. For those who were disobedient, I sent Flesh Golems to have a 'heart-to-heart' with them. For those who obeyed, I provided stable raw materials and technical support."
Good grief, Andy thought. This is just violent monopoly mixed with pyramid scheme brainwashing.
Yet, Andy had to admit that in the ignorant environment of the Underhive, this strategy was extremely effective. Integrating those scattered quacks into a tight organization not only allowed for price control but also created economies of scale. While Sisyphron's system was inherently monopolistic and exploitative, he had established a standard. Even if that standard was dark, in a place this chaotic, having rules was better than none. At the very least, when a patient entered, there was a high probability they wouldn't immediately become stock for an organ bank.
"So, you are now the King of Medicine in the Underhive," Andy remarked.
"No, I am merely a slightly larger pawn." The smile on Sisyphron's face vanished, replaced by a deep sense of helplessness. He pulled a document from his drawer; it was a supply contract with the Helios Pharmaceutical Group.
"You see this? My biggest clients are the people from the Spire. They treat this place as a source of raw materials and a testing ground for new drugs. They take my primitive strains and organ specimens at dirt-cheap prices, process them into high-priced medicine above, and then sell them back to me at a premium. Most of the money I earn is handed right back up to trade for so-called 'patent licenses' and equipment maintenance fees. How I long to produce finished medicine! How I long to break free from them!"
Sisyphron's eyes grew fervent. "But I lack the technology! The technical blockade from above is too strict. Those critical fermentation units and strain cultivation techniques—I couldn't buy them if I offered ten, a hundred, or a thousand times the price. Until you... you appeared!"
Sisyphron looked at Andy as if he were looking at a gold mine. "You have the technology; I have the raw materials and the sales channels. If we cooperate, I can dump the Helios Group and produce antibiotics myself. When that time comes, the entire Underhive—even the Hive Bottom market—will be ours."
The loop was closed. Andy appreciated this ambition to challenge upper-level monopolies for the sake of profit. After all, the enemy of an enemy is a friend. Since the Helios Group was the hidden hand behind the scenes, propping up a double-agent to undermine their foundation was a brilliant move.
"If you can accept receiving only blueprints and models, I can give you the technology," Andy spoke. "But I have two conditions."
"First, on the premise that you provide me with unlimited raw materials and intelligence, I want seventy percent of all profits generated."
Andy stopped pretending; he was here for the tech and the materials. The Beak Doctors didn't understand technology, but through years of hoarding, they had accumulated massive amounts of biomass, chemical raw materials, and primitive strains that had survived decades of high radiation and toxicity. With the support of this raw material bank, Andy didn't need to start cultivation from scratch. He could skip the long accumulation phase and mass-produce high-purity antibiotics, analgesics, and even combat stimulants that only the Astra Militarum and Hive nobility could enjoy.
More importantly, with these ready-made reserves, a large section of greyed-out icons in the STC database lit up instantly!
First was the military industry. That black powder, which couldn't even guarantee a steady firing rate, could be thrown away. Andy could now hand-craft double-base primers and even high-energy explosives mixed from RDX and TNT. This meant the shelter's ammunition production would no longer be limited. Those heavy stubbers would have infinite armor-piercing incendiary rounds, and even heavy firepower like man-portable missiles and Rocket-Propelled Grenades (RPGs) could be put on the agenda!
Second was materials science. With acids and organic solvents, Andy could synthesize polymers—plastics and rubber. Imagine the impact in an Underhive that still used rotting belts as seals and wood as insulation: mass-produced, heat-resistant, and corrosion-resistant industrial rubber and engineering plastics. This meant Andy's vehicles would no longer leak oil, cables would no longer short-circuit, and he could even issue combatants full-seal power armor liners!
Finally, there were the breakthroughs in medicine. As for the money? It was just a worldly possession; he'd take seventy percent as a symbolic gesture.
Sisyphron's face twitched. Brother, you've opened your mouth this wide and you call seventy percent 'symbolic'? That's practically highway robbery!
But he quickly weighed the pros and cons. Without cooperation, he could only remain a dog for Helios, earning meager scraps. With cooperation, even with only thirty percent, it would be thirty percent of a much larger cake—the total volume would be vastly greater.
"Deal," Sisyphron agreed through gritted teeth.
In reality, Andy demanding seventy percent was purely to set the hierarchy for the Beak Doctors—to let them know who the real "Daddy" was. Compared to the entire chemical technology chain, money was just a pile of scrap paper.
"Second," Andy held up a second finger. "Tell me about your secret passage."
Sisyphron's head snapped up, genuine shock appearing in his eyes for the first time. "Wh... what passage?"
"Don't play dumb." Andy pointed toward the ceiling. "Your submarine can enter and exit this acid lake freely, which means you know there's an underground river beneath the water. And the flow of this river, if I'm not mistaken, leads to some drainage or ventilation system in the upper levels."
"How do you know?!" Sisyphron was truly panicked now. This was his greatest trump card, the final escape route he kept for himself. If things ever became unbearable in the Underhive or if the Helios Group tried to silence him, he planned to take his money and vanish into the Spire through this secret path. Not even his inner circle knew about this; how did this yellow-clad fellow he just met find out?
In truth, Andy hadn't known. He had simply used the STC to scan the base's ventilation system when he entered. The air here was too good—unusually good. An underground base at this depth couldn't achieve such air quality solely with filtration equipment without connecting to an external atmospheric cycle. The only explanation was a connection to a massive ventilation network, and such networks were usually linked to the upper structures. Andy had bluffed, and to his surprise, he had struck gold.
Sisyphron remained silent for a long time before finally letting out a bitter laugh. He pressed a hidden button on the edge of his desk.
Whirrr—
The wall that previously held the oil paintings slid away slowly, revealing a massive holographic map projection. On the map, a red dashed line meandered like a blood vessel. It started from this underwater base, threaded through a complex network of underground rivers, and extended upwards. Finally, it pierced through the thick rock layer representing the Underhive ceiling and connected to a location marked "Abandoned Pumping Station, Sector 7."
"This is the passage you want," Sisyphron's voice was dry. "It does lead to the upper levels, but it has been abandoned for centuries. It's filled with mutated creatures and collapsed pipes. Moreover, the exit is located right beneath an old factory site belonging to the Helios Group."
Andy looked at the red line, the blue light in his electronic eyes flickering with increased intensity. A path to the upper levels. This meant higher-tier resources, a broader market, and the source of all the chaos: the Helios Group's lair.