Cyberpunk: Infinite Progress Begins with Arasaka Chapter 11: Scalper... or Scalpress?

"Commitnt, integrity, and honesty—these three principles are the core values upon which the Umbrella Corporation was founded."

"Just like our Red Umbrella, Blue Umbrella, and White Umbrella divisions: each with distinct responsibilities, yet interconnected. Together, they support our ongoing mission to serve the public."

"Today, we formally announce to the public the creation of our Black Umbrella division: in line with our corporate developnt strategy and this fiscal year's operational goals, and following thorough deliberation by our Board of Directors, the Black Umbrella division is hereby established."

"The division will be led by the brilliant scientist, Dr. Vela Adelheid Russell. She will oversee our research and developnt in materials science, intelligent control systems, and human bionics..."

Beep.

West Coast, San Francisco – Umbrella Tower.

A striking figure leaned against a wide executive desk and clicked a remote, shutting off the television.

She tapped the remote lightly in her palm, lifted her pale-gold hair, and let her fingers fingers sway in a satisfied gesture.

"...A remote. How quaint this thing suddenly feels."

A minor side effect of cross-dinsional consciousness alignnt.

She half expected to just blink and change the channel.

Knock knock.

"Co in."

"Director, your tea." A professional Umbrella hospitality attendant stepped in, bowed slightly, and set a tray of delicate pastries, a teapot, and bone china cups gently onto Vela's desk.

"Thank you." After the server left, Vela lifted the cup and took a light sip. The rich tea aroma spread warmly in her mouth.

She made a show of savoring it.

And who was the show for?

Ring ring—

Right on cue.

Vela tapped the button beside her integrated desk phone.

Whoosh.

The curtains drew themselves closed. An LCD projector activated, and a screen dropped into place.

A mont later, bzzzt—

"Dr. Russell."

The voice was aged, deep, and commanding—filtered through what looked, to Vela, like an ancient speaker system.

The screen flickered through static and digital mosaic before finally resolving into the image of an elderly man.

Caucasian. Male. Gaunt build. Pure white hair. A classic Union Jack London fringe, with a bald crown gleaming under soft light.

Oswell E. Spencer.

One of Umbrella Corporation's three founding mbers, and the shadowy mastermind behind countless future biohazards. Now Chairman and CEO of Umbrella—and Vela's direct superior.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Spencer."

Holding her tea with poise, Vela inclined her head in greeting.

This wasn't Arasaka, where a thousand layers of rigid protocol made every boss eting feel like a military tribunal. And besides, she wouldn't dare resign from Arasaka.

But Umbrella? In 1990s Arica? Her behavior was perfectly normal.

She said it now and ant it—if Spencer tried to pull so etiquette card on her, she'd leak this whole pressure-cooker workplace scenario and let the unions tear Umbrella a new one.

Besides, couldn't he see she was sipping afternoon tea? That was basically kissing up to a Brit.

"Dr. Russell, the Board holds high expectations for your work in bionic engineering and cybernetics. We hope you won't disappoint us," Spencer said with pleasant composure.

"I won't," Vela replied, exuding that sa innate arrogance that said, who else but ?

Spencer nodded, satisfied.

Genius with a bit of ego? Expected.

Even within Umbrella—long dominated by biotech and virology—this sudden ergence of a rising star in semiconductors, engineering physics, bionics, intelligent systems, and chanical tech was nothing short of astonishing.

A lucky surprise, indeed.

Though she wasn't one of his prized products from the Wesker Program, Spencer accepted Vela almost imdiately.

After all, wasn't Vela's brilliance the perfect embodint of the eugenics ideals he revered? Just like Veronica Ashford, ancestor of an old friend—beauty, intellect, and rationality in one.

As for the possibility that she might be a corporate spy? Spencer had never seriously considered it. Who in their right mind would send soone this gifted to infiltrate another company? That would be aiding the enemy.

Thanks to Vela's research, Umbrella's stock value had skyrocketed. Since discovering her, the company had continued to expand its operational scope.

His only regret: Vela had zero interest in virology—and even showed open disdain for it.

After multiple attempts at subtle probing, Spencer had fully accepted this fact.

"Flesh is weak, ascend through machinery..."

From his electronically upgraded castle on the British Isles, Oswell E. Spencer watched the LCD screen, where Vela elegantly sipped her tea. He couldn't help but recall that phrase she often repeated.

"It's certainly another path. William Birkin has grown complacent. Perhaps he was never destined to surpass his ntor or Alexia. The T and G projects remain stuck at their bottlenecks."

"Hopefully, Dr. Russell's arrival will reignite your sense of urgency," he muttered, flipping through Vela's latest bionics proposal submitted to the board. He skimd past most of it—except for one line that caught his attention:

Life Extension.

"Immortality."

A most intoxicating word.

...

Vela had no interest in whatever delusions Spencer was indulging now. When she noticed he'd fallen into one of his silent brooding spells, she simply brought up her newly compiled presentation.

"Weapons?" Spencer sounded surprised, glancing at the freshly printed docunts on his desk. If his aging eyes weren't failing him, that looked like a blueprint for firearms.

"What made you want to design weapons?" he asked.

"There's a market. And frankly, our security force—UBCS—is under-equipped," Vela replied casually. "I couldn't stand it, so I tinkered with a few ideas."

The kind of genius tone Spencer adored.

"Excellent. Finalize your design and submit it to first."

He didn't ask any more. Having seen Alexia Ashford earn her doctorate from a prestigious university at age ten, Spencer's tolerance for so-called genius was sky-high.

Vela nodded.

The call ended.

Whoosh.

The curtains opened again. Back at her desk, Vela opened a drawer.

Weapon blueprints: WAA Bullpup Assault Weapon, WMA "Minami 10", WSA Autopistol, Tamayura, WCAA "Rapid Assault Shot 12", WXA Computer-Aid Weapon…

All long-since obsolete Arasaka weapons.

With her Arasaka clearance, Vela had full access to weapons data from before the Fourth Corporate War. Useless by 2074 standards—rarely seen on the market anymore—but to Umbrella's tiline, they were excellent, top-tier, cutting-edge tech.

"Basic model drone factory, prosthetics, electronics, vehicles, firearms... For now, this'll do."

Be half a step ahead of the tis, and you're a genius. A full step, and you're a lunatic.

One bite at a ti.

Anything too advanced would be impossible to protect—even Umbrella couldn't shield her. But releasing innovations slowly, in iterative upgrades that improved existing market options… Just the bionic prosthetics market alone served hundreds of millions of disabled individuals.

"Mhm."

In an instant, her mood brightened. Leaning back in her executive chair, she twirled a pen with her left hand and picked up the desk phone with her right. Ti to call in a Washington contact to help clear the way for her weapons business.

The secure line connected.

On the screen: Derek C. Simmons.