Outrun – Cyberpunk LitRPG Chapter 128

The basent was a multipurpose area. A hallway split down the middle, connected to the stairs and elevator on one side and a door on the other. Two rooms split off from the hallway: a laundry room, chatter barely reaching my ears over the hums of machinery, and a gym. The clangs of tal on tal and soft grunts alerted to several people working out in it.

I’d already checked the caras for the place, so I already knew the only two positioned down here were in the gym and laundry room. I just needed to make it to the room across the way, then I should be able to freely enter the room with the supposed entrance to the Underground. Hopefully. There was always the chance the maps or my calculations had been off.

I headed down the door, carefully keeping away from the lines of sight as I approached the doors on either side of the hall. Rather, the doorways. Neither of the rooms had doors attached to the fras. I looked closer at the walls, noticing they were rather weak structurally. Probably added on to the basent at so point rather than part of the original structure.

I darted across the gap, my steps and gear as silent as freshly fallen snow as I headed for the opposite side of the hallway. I tried it, finding the door locked. It was just a chanical lock though, so I popped it open in no ti and slid in.

The door entered into a small supply closet, causing a frown to spring to my lips. Racks filled with cleaners, spare toilet paper, and other supplies filled the space. This wasn’t on the map. Now that I think about it, neither was the gym or laundry room…

Where was the entrance though? Or had the original owners of this place bulldozed it when building up the apartnts? Hmm… Dang old maps and their uncertainty.

I took a step, feeling a flush of Insight hit . I was missing sothing… but what? I ntally retraced my steps, rechecking my map several tis. I paced back and forth inside the closet, carefully rethinking as I tried to figure out where exactly I had gone wrong-

Wait, my steps… How many steps did it take to get to the hallway? Sothing was wrong here. Why was the hallway so short? The ancient schematic of the basent I found showed it to be quite a large area, but then that wasn’t exactly right either? Only two-thirds of the space was in use by the laundry room and gym. This place is missing a third of its space. Hmm… It could just be a discrepancy in the schematic. The thing was ancient after all.

Or it could not. I eyed the supply closet further, catching sight of an oddity on the back wall. The bricks were different. It was barely visible, but the striations of the bricks were slightly off, as was the hue. It was slightly more yellow. A bit newer than the rest of the brickwork in the basent, though only by maybe a year.

Was it a fake wall? I tapped on it several tis, but they were brick, so it was hard to tell. I looked around the room further, catching sight of a worn-out mark on the ground. Sothing had scraped the tile up.

I pulled on the shelf slightly. I was getting stronger recently, but it still took a bit of effort to force the shelf off of the wall. Like, more than should be possible considering it was a simple shelf. Even the weight of the cleaners and all that shouldn’t have been making it too big of an issue.

Then I heard a quiet chanical grinding as the shelf gave way, pulling slightly off the wall. I strained, the chanical noise getting louder as the shelf swung out, one side pulling off the wall.

I looked down, catching sight of a tattered rip cord attached to the shelf. The other end disappeared into the wall. With one final tug, I managed to get the shelf pulled as far as possible from the wall. The ripcord pulled quite far out of its hidden slot.

The chanical grinding increased by several tis as the shelf slowly pulled back to its resting position, the bottles of cleaner and rolls of toilet paper shaking slightly as the surface moved. A catch released, and the back wall shifted. Dust fell off of it as the entire thing shook montarily.

Then the wall split into two, pulling apart to reveal an ash-covered room. I eyed the place. I paused only a mont, pulling out my rifle before taking a hesitant step forward under the effects of Dexterity. I shifted my eyes from shadow to shadow, weary of danger.

There was a set of footprints headed toward the back room, but they were almost entirely covered up. If I had to guess, it had been maybe thirty or forty years, give or take so ti, since anyone had been down here. The tracks were also one-way. Unless they backtracked carefully by stepping on their own footprints, whoever ventured down here so long ago hadn’t made the return trip. My hands tightened around the rifle's grip.

The place seed to be so kind of ancient bar. If I had to date it, it would be at least a hundred years old purely based on how the wood elents of the room looked. The bar, barstools, and tables scattered around were charred in a way only real wood reacted to the fire. Synthwood got all droopy and lty more than charred. So either this room was from a period before Synthwood really took off, or it was an extrely extravagant place.

I took a hesitant step forward, disturbing the ash slightly. I adjusted my balance to stir as little of it as possible, carefully stepping in the path of the old prints. Dozens of skeletons lay around here, scattered about the place. The char and ash made it difficult to spot, but bullet holes lined almost every wall. What happened here?

I flinched back, rifle up and ready to shoot as I heard a grating behind . My guard relaxed slightly as I saw the hidden door to the place close by itself. Probably set on a tir or sothing. I’ll need to take a look at the chanism before I leave. Probably could do with so grease and fixing up if I wanted to turn this place into a more permanent passageway. Maybe even clean up the bar?

A far-distant idea of owning the place, and turning it into a proper business ca to mind if only to better hide my tracks. The amount of money for that kind of thing though… still, it would be cool. A super secret entrance into a super secret and popping speakeasy, which was actually just a cover for a super secret passage into a super secret stash house full of loot was the kind of thing that made my mind tick. Or was it just the secretness of it that was so attractive?

I walked closer to one of the skeletons that caught my eye, noticing several shattered bottles all over the place. Did they use the bar’s own product as an accelerant? It was likely. The skeleton’s clothes had all been burned away in the fire, but the chro hadn’t. Or should I say prosthetic? The thing was ancient, almost entirely non-chanical in nature. Hell, the thing was closer to a peg leg than anything.

I tried to think back through what I knew of history, but I couldn’t quite place it other than knowing that the thing was ancient. At least older than the Cyber Panic in twenty-eleven. Probably way older, all things considered.

Maybe back when- hmm… What did that fangirl teacher of Corporate History call it? Prohibition? That sounds right. It was one of the few things she talked about that wasn’t directly related to Sentinel- no, that wasn’t quite right. The only reason she brought it up was thanks to old rumors that the CEO of Sentinel got his starting investnts from running several ‘Businesses’ at the ti.

Ah, no that actually made sense. If this place was an old speakeasy back from prohibition buried with ti, so things started to click. For instance, the weird hidden entry. The ancient wood, the old chro, and probably more if I were to look around further could hint at it. The ash probably acted as a preservative for so of the stuff here, and aside from the person whose footsteps I tracked, I doubt anyone had been here since the fire. Too much debris and the skeletons probably would’ve been removed.

Was the apartnt built after the speakeasy then? I knew the apartnts were old, but I didn’t think they were about a hundred and fifty years old… The blueprint hadn’t been dated though, so I guess it could’ve been. The amount of renovations this place would’ve needed to stay in good shape after all that ti would be astronomical.

I left the corpse, heading back to the tracks. They split off, heading to the bar before looping back. I gave a cursory glance behind the bar, but it was empty except for shattered bottles. Either it had been emptied before the fire, or whoever left the tracks got to anything left over before I did.

I followed the tracks into a kitchen area. Even back here hadn’t been spared from the fire, ash coating just about everything. An old walk-in freezer sat open, four skeletons bundled up in the corner of the place… Food had rotted to nothing and shattered jars sat scattered all around the place. Surprisingly, there was one jar still in good condition full of what looked like pickles.

The tracks andered around the kitchen for a while, the open cabinets and drawers suggesting the person had searched through the place. Then they headed towards a back room. Still no sign of the supposed way down. I gripped my rifle tighter and entered into an office of sorts.

Er- it was more of a study. It reminded of the posh drawing room where Mr. Abernathy t , though way older and more suave. Or at least it had been. Ash covered everything, though to a lesser extent than the rest of the place. The walls were burnt-out bookshelves, nothing but ash remaining of the books that once called them ho. A massive desk sat on the back side of the office, covered in the ashen husks of two lamps and several pens. A skull sat on it, staring almost judgntally at . The rest of the skeleton lay scattered off to the side, taking 'Rest in Peace' to a whole new level.

A silver fra lay down against the wall, and the original painting burned out. Where the fra would’ve hung, however, sat a fair size safe. Unopened. Though it looked as though soone had briefly tried to get it open with a crowbar or pick.

I held myself back from imdiately heading to it, panning over the place carefully as I flicked on Aetherial Perception and watched for traps. Nothing. The tracks led back behind the desk, so I followed them once more.

Behind the desk, a fair-sized pit frad by splintered and rotted wood sat. The hole descended into darkness, the bottom of it hidden by sheer rock faces and clumps of rotten wood from where the flooring fell out. The tracks led to the drop in the floor before stopping abruptly. Had they descended? Hmm... no rope marks though.

I kept an eye on the pit as I headed for the safe. It was trivial to unlock it, though it was a bit weird that my knowledge of safe cracking still applied to a safe from so long ago. I guess there hasn’t been much improvent in purely chanical safes outside of more resistant materials. Well, maybe only slight improvents. The safe was far easier than so of the stuff I’d sprung open.

The door creaked open, revealing stacks and stacks of small paper- no, not paper. Money. The old currency from before the Fall of the USA. Worthless now with the world’s conversion to Boswan Pulas, or Rayn as it was more commonly known, but probably would’ve been quite a lot back then.

A small back book sat pressed against the wall. I flicked through it, finding pages full of nas, affiliations, and debts. Nothing too important since so much ti had passed, but probably could’ve been useful a while back. I could look through it fully at so other point though.

There were a couple gold coins marked with an eagle’s head. Good ole gold. Two ounces, so another five thousand Rayn just from the vault. Things were starting to look up.

Maybe I should try to start hitting so of these older places and find abandoned loot? Might be worth it? Especially if I targeted stuff around the K-10 Crash when a lot of records were lost. There were all sorts of abandoned goods still left out there. Hell, checking old stashes was one of the most common jobs for more combative rcs. I could think about this another ti though.

I stashed the two ounces into an inner pocket of my backpack and looked under the worthless paper, finding another small black book and a keychain smothered in keys. I went ahead and grabbed it, stashed the keys in my bag, and looked through the book.

It was written in code, though a rather poor one. I checked the Net for a code cracker and got it translated almost instantly. It appeared to be a codebook full of destinations, tis, and other details. Probably stash locations, if I had to guess. Might be helpful, though I highly doubt any of the stashes remained.

At the back end of the book was a blueprint of the Speakeasy, one which I morized instantly thanks to Eidetic Schematic. There were several hidden compartnts all over the place, but I could check those out on my return trip. If there was loot, I didn’t want to load myself down too much. For a similar decision, I decided to put everything except the gold back into the vault for safe, heh, keeping and locking it back up.

I took the opportunity to armor up now that I was away from prying eyes. That, and it was now or never. Down in the depths would be too late, and I needed at least my helt on for the rebreather. That, and it would be an easier descent with the weight of the armor more evenly distributed across my body than centered on my back.

Then I started to rope to repel into the dark pit. It was rather annoying to get everything set up, my only real experience from watching others, but eventually, I managed and started my descent into the depths for the third ti in recent mory.