Mysteries: Arcana Wars

It was late at night, and Scott walked onto the lonely streets of Backlund.

The old charlatan, Wenceslas, kicked him out of the church and said there would be a surprise when he returned home tonight.

Not sure if it was because Wenceslas was unhappy with him and kicked him out of the church, or if he really cared about the mental health of his old colleague, Scott didn't dare to ignore any of the prophecies of a peeping path sequence three, and chose to walk out of the church and go home.

"May the god of steam and machinery light your way."

As usual, the bishop gave blessings to everyone who stepped out of the church.

This is nonsense! I guess that guy is staring at me from somewhere. I have to turn on the street lights!

Compared to going home in a wheelchair, Scott preferred to walk home slowly like this when there was nothing urgent. Even if the great city of Backlund made him feel suffocated, when he looked up at the brightly lit high-rise buildings on the street, Scott would have the illusion of being a human being.

It turns out that I can still be a living person, not some strange alien transformed by some weird power, not a dangerous maniac under the surveillance and control of gods, and not a chess piece in the game that cannot control my own destiny.

"Get out of here! I won't sign your contract! The fate of the Matheson Circus will always be in our own hands!"

Rolls of paper were suddenly thrown out from the front door, flying all over the sky, followed by several briefcases, and several people in suits were hurriedly driven out in a panic.

"Misty Matheson! Don't be so ungrateful!"

The leader spat angrily, his suit torn, and he shouted towards the door in frustration.

"Since you refuse to sign, it won't just be the PR team that comes next time!"

Another pot of boiling water fell from the sky, and the PR team was so frightened that they jumped three feet high, as if they were doing a thigh dance on the street, and then ran away cursing.

Scott watched the PR team leave his sight, took a few steps forward, and a sign flashing neon lights caught his eye.

Matheson Circus, bringing you happiness!

Mrs. Misty sat wearily on the steps outside the theater, the joyful exclamation point directly above her head casting a dreamy color on her snow-white hair.

The heavy makeup from today's performance had not been removed yet, but it had been stained by tears, and the mottled tear marks left a black line on her colorful face. The tight and thin performance clothes seemed insignificant in the autumn night of Backlund. The warm and exaggerated plush coat wrapped her weak body, revealing only a pair of beautiful long legs and prosthetic limbs.

This is a pair of legs that you will never forget once you have seen them. The exquisite and unique imaging membrane is attached to the surface of the prosthesis like skin, and the gorgeous colors outline complex patterns, which are constantly changing on the surface of the shell. The buds are exuding stamens, and the old branches are sprouting new buds. The false spring quietly descends on these legs in the cold autumn night of Backlund.

Scott remembered this technology, which was one of the most proud patents of "King of Clowns" Dodger Rama.

Mrs. Misty sat there with her eyes blank, smoking under the grand exclamation point, until Scott covered the street light, she was awakened from her own world and stood up in fright.

"Ah, it's... it's Mr. Cartwright!"

Mrs. Misty was terrified when she suddenly saw her former boss. She quickly put out her cigarette and rubbed her face twice to cover up her gaffe.

But Scott just walked up and patted her on the shoulder, then sat with her on the steps at the theater entrance, which made Mrs. Misty even more at a loss.

Prior to founding the Matheson Circus, the Mathesons had been members of the Pump Spark Institute, and Mrs. Misty knew exactly what a distinguished figure the director was.

"Oh my god... why are you here... I'm so sorry for my condition. I... I'm really sorry, today's performance is over..."

"Nothing, I was just passing by on my way home."

Scott took out a cigarette and lit it for Mrs. Misty, then touched the shell and found that it was empty, so he simply took out a cigar and lit it for himself.

"Where did those people come from?"

"It's not a big deal. It's those annoying Feynapotters, the Ishdar Group. They want to buy our Matheson Circus."

Mrs. Misty smiled wryly.

"The whole circus, Mr. Cartwright, including our performance theater, our prosthetic factory, our prosthetic patents, and even our people. They want it!"

Scott exhaled a puff of smoke in silence. Rory Matheson, also known as Dodge Lamar, did not work in Pump Spark for a long time, but as a prosthetics researcher, he made outstanding achievements in this area for Pump Spark, which attracted Scott's attention for a while.

But the fate and friendship between the two also stopped there. Scott and Rory were still separated by several layers of relationship, and they rarely met in daily life except for individual projects. However, when Scott received the resignation reports from Rory and Misty, he was still a little surprised.

Although he felt sorry for them, Scott respected Rory's choice and gave them the green light all the way, completing all the resignation procedures. Since the Mathesons' projects were of low confidentiality and were mostly commercial projects with actual use, the two did not have too many sequelae due to memory deletion during the forced brainwashing, and they left the church clean and refreshed.

After that, the Mathesons only kept in intermittent contact with Scott, and occasionally did small things for Scott. As for becoming an extraordinary person, the Mathesons also reported to Scott personally, but that is a story for later.

"It seems that Ishdar wants to take a bite of Backlund's prosthetics market and has set his sights on your technology."

Scott flicked the ash from his cigarette.

"If your Matheson factory's technology is further developed, it will be able to reduce the cost of several types of prosthetics by several percentage points. This is a rare good business for Ishdar, who has no foundation in the Backlund prosthetics market. As long as your entire industry is named Ishdar, not only will you save a lot of patent fees, but you can also collect the huge fees paid by other companies to Dodge Rama."

What a good plan! Dodge Lamar has only been dead for a week, and he is already eager to grab his property.

I guess these people have made a lot of plans, just waiting for the Dodge Rama to make a lot of money, right?

"Ah."

Scott gave a short, contemptuous sneer.

"What's the name of the hospital they opened, Peaceful Starlight? Do they want to use you as nourishment for Peaceful Starlight Hospital?"

But even with the addition of factories and theaters, the Matheson Circus was still so small in front of the behemoth Ishdar Corporation. These man-eating beasts would stop at nothing to achieve their goals. The moment Dodge Lamar was declared dead, Mrs. Misty's doomed defense war began.

"But our technology is not mature enough. Some products are still in the experimental stage and there is still a long way to go before commercialization."

Mrs. Misty exhaled a long puff of smoke.

"But Rory can't go on."

The two fell into silence again.