9: Chapter 9 The Sewer Alliance

The sewers of Los Santos were the scar of this steel jungle. Murky sewage churned through rusted pipes, carrying garbage, humus, and unknown slime, emitting a nauseating, fishy stench.

The city's neon lights from above seeped through the cracks in the manhole covers, casting mottled shadows and light onto the water's surface, resembling a group of writhing venomous snakes.

Lin Fan waded through the ankle-deep sewage, moving forward with uneven steps.

His pant legs were already soaked through with sludge, clinging stickily to his calves; with every step, he could feel the ice-cold liquid seeping against his skin.

The flash drive in his arms was wrapped layer by layer in a plastic bag, held tight against his chest as if he were carrying a bomb that could explode at any moment.

He gripped Michael De Santa's scorpion badge in his palm; the metal edges dug painfully into his skin, yet it helped keep his chaotic thoughts somewhat clear.

"Franklin... East city sewer..." Lin Fan muttered the instructions Michael De Santa had given him before leaving. His voice echoed through the empty pipes, triggering a rustling sound.

Subconsciously, he gripped the handgun at his waist, slowed his pace, and scanned his surroundings vigilantly.

The air here was even fouler than in the abandoned internet cafe, filled with a strange mixture of rust, rot, and disinfectant that felt like countless tiny needles pricking his lungs with every breath.

The pipe walls were covered in dark green moss and some kind of unknown fungi, flickering with an eerie fluorescence in the dim light.

Occasionally, rats scurried past his feet, emitting squeaks that made Lin Fan's heart jump.

He had been walking in the sewer for nearly half an hour. The further he went, the narrower the pipes became, and the rumbling overhead grew louder—it was the sound of vehicles driving on the city's main roads, like a dormant beast roaring above ground.

Just then, a heavy dragging sound suddenly came from the darkness ahead, accompanied by the sound of some viscous liquid dripping.

"Who's there?" Lin Fan shouted in a low voice, aiming his gun toward the direction of the sound.

There was no response. Only the dragging sound continued, getting closer and clearer.

Lin Fan's heart began to race, and he could feel cold sweat breaking out on his back. The [Hacker Intrusion] skill on his system panel remained a dim red, firmly locked. The only things he could rely on were the low-powered handgun in his hand and his own reasonably sharp intuition.

He moved forward slowly, each step cautious, fearing he might disturb whatever was in the darkness. The sewage rippled at his feet, making a slight splashing sound that seemed jarringly loud in the deathly silence.

Finally, he saw the thing.

It was a twisted figure, curled up at the corner of the pipe. Its body looked as if it had been melted and then forcibly pieced back together; its limbs were uneven in thickness, and its skin was a sickly grayish-purple, covered in festering pustules that were constantly oozing a yellow-green liquid. It had a large head but no facial features, only a gaping, blood-red maw filled with jagged, uneven fangs, opening and closing as it chewed on something.

Lin Fan's stomach churned violently, and he almost threw up.

This was not a human. It wasn't even any creature within his understanding.

This was a mutated NPC—a deformed product created after the game world's data collapsed.

He had heard of the existence of such things on his first day after crossing over. They were the system's "junk files," having no fixed form or sanity, hunting all living things purely by instinct. It was said that those bitten by them would either be torn to shreds directly or infected, becoming monsters just like them.

The mutated NPC seemed to sense Lin Fan's presence and suddenly lifted its head—if that could even be called a "head." A low roar issued from its mouth, sounding like a broken bellows, and then it got on all fours and crawled rapidly toward Lin Fan.

Its speed was astonishing. It made almost no sound while moving through the sewage, only the "hissing" sound of claws scraping against the pipe walls, like the Grim Reaper's scythe harvesting life.

Lin Fan was scared out of his wits and turned to run, but his legs felt like they were filled with lead, too heavy to lift. He could only watch helplessly as the monster got closer and closer, the fishy, foul stench rushing toward him, almost suffocating him.

"Bang!"

Just as the mutated NPC's fangs were about to touch Lin Fan's throat, a deafening gunshot tore through the darkness.

A shotgun shell hit the mutated NPC's head precisely. The immense impact blew its upper body to pieces, splattering yellow-green mucus and dark red flesh all over the ground, and all over Lin Fan as well.

Lin Fan stood frozen in place, his mind blank. He watched the monster's remains twitch a few times in the sewage before going completely still. Only then did he slowly lower his head to look at the filth on his body, his stomach churning once again.

"Tsk, what a mess."

A deep male voice sounded from behind him, carrying a hint of mockery and impatience.

Lin Fan spun around and saw a tall man standing in the shadows not far away. He was wearing a black waterproof trench coat with his hood pulled low, obscuring most of his face, revealing only a sharp, cold jawline and a pair of hawk-like, piercing eyes. He held a modified shotgun in his hand, the muzzle still smoking.

The man's gaze fell on Lin Fan, sweeping over his mud-stained clothes, then landing on the scorpion badge clutched in his hand; his eyes flickered slightly.

"A friend of Michael De Santa?" The man spoke, his voice sounding like sandpaper rubbing against wood—hoarse and rough. "Hmph, I don't need dead weight."

Lin Fan's heart was still pounding. He swallowed his saliva, barely managed to steady himself, and raised the badge in his hand: "It... it was Michael De Santa who sent me to find you. He said you know Red Scorpion."

When the man heard the words "Red Scorpion," his eyes suddenly turned sharp. He took two steps forward, and his hood slipped, revealing a weather-beaten face. A hideous scar ran down his left cheek, extending from the corner of his eye to his jaw, making his already rugged features appear even more ferocious.

"Franklin?" Lin Fan asked tentatively.

Franklin did not answer, but stared into his eyes as if judging whether he was telling the truth or lying. A few seconds later, he snorted coldly and put away the shotgun: "Follow me. Keep quiet; there's more than one mutated thing down here."

Lin Fan hurried to follow. He discovered that Franklin seemed to know the sewer layout like the back of his hand, moving nimbly through the intricate pipes, avoiding the dangerous, fluorescent-emitting fungi and bypassing several bottomless dark trenches.

They walked for about ten minutes and arrived at a relatively spacious area. This must have been a sewer transfer station; a few flickering emergency lights hung on the surrounding walls, barely illuminating the environment. A few worn-out wooden crates were stacked in the corner, with a cot and a kerosene stove nearby, looking like Franklin's temporary base.

Franklin kicked an empty can on the ground, signaling for Lin Fan to sit. He then leaned against a wooden crate, pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket, took one out, lit it, took a deep drag, and exhaled a puff of smoke.

"Speak up. What exactly does Michael De Santa want by sending you to find me?" Franklin got straight to the point, his eyes filled with scrutiny. "He should know very well that there is no possibility of any cooperation between me and the Snake Fang Gang."

Lin Fan didn't waste any time. He took the plastic-wrapped flash drive from his jacket and handed it over: "I want to ask you to help me crack this. It contains secrets about Victor and Red Scorpion."

Franklin's gaze landed on the flash drive, and his pupils contracted slightly. He took the flash drive, weighed it in his hand, and for the first time, his expression showed a flicker of emotion.

"This is Razor's thing." Franklin's voice dropped. "Is he dead?"

"Yeah." Lin Fan nodded. Remembering how Razor had shoved the flash drive into his hands before dying, he felt a sting of sorrow. "To cover for me, he was shot by a Snake Fang Gang assassin."

Franklin was silent. He lowered his head, looking at the flash drive in his hand with a complex expression. After a long while, he finally looked up at Lin Fan: "What do you want to know?"

"Who exactly is Red Scorpion?" Lin Fan asked urgently. "And what does Victor's 'Reset Plan' actually mean?"

Upon hearing the words "Reset Plan," Franklin's expression changed abruptly. He stubbed out his cigarette, walked under the emergency light, which illuminated the scar on his face and the gravity in his eyes.

"Red Scorpion is not human." Franklin's voice was very low, as if he were telling a massive secret. "At least, not anymore. He was originally Victor's lieutenant and one of the founders of the Snake Fang Gang. Ten years ago, he was critically wounded by the Federal Army during a shootout, and everyone thought he was dead."

"Then what about him now..." Lin Fan frowned.

"He became Victor's 'shadow'." Franklin sneered with a hint of disdain. "Victor found a technology that could transplant human consciousness into a mechanical body. Red Scorpion was the first test subject. Now, he has no flesh, only a skeleton made of alloys and circuit boards, specifically helping Victor do those dirty, unseen jobs—assassination, smuggling, human trafficking, and... cleaning up 'Abnormal Data'."

"'Abnormal Data'?" Lin Fan's heart skipped a beat. This term was exactly the same as what was in the video on the flash drive.

"It's people like you." Franklin glanced at him, his eyes sharp as a knife. "People who don't belong to this world. Transmigrators."

Lin Fan's pupils contracted sharply. He looked at Franklin, his face full of shock. How could he know?

Franklin seemed to see through his thoughts and said calmly, "Don't be surprised. The waters of Los Santos are much deeper than you imagine. Transmigrators aren't the first, and they won't be the last. Victor's Reset Plan is meant to wipe out all 'Abnormal Data' in this world, including you, those mutated NPCs, and even some locals he doesn't like."

"Why would he do that?" Lin Fan's voice trembled slightly.

"Because he wants to be a god." Franklin's tone was full of mockery. "This world was originally a game, and Victor discovered this secret. He wants to tamper with the game's code and turn Los Santos into his own private kingdom. And the Reset Plan is his first step—to erase all unstable factors and establish an order completely under his control."

Lin Fan's back felt cold. He finally understood why Victor was hunting him and Michael De Santa. It wasn't just because they disrupted the Snake Fang Gang's deal; it was because his identity as a transmigrator had violated Victor's taboo.

"Then what has Red Scorpion been doing lately?" Lin Fan steadied himself and continued to ask.

Franklin thought for a moment and said, "He has been active at the docks recently. I heard he is preparing for a 'large-scale transport.' I'm not clear on exactly what he is transporting, but it is certain that this is related to the Reset Plan."

"The docks..." Lin Fan pondered, a bold idea forming in his mind.

Franklin seemed to see through his thoughts and sneered, "You want to go to the docks? Don't go looking for death. That place is now a restricted area for the Snake Fang Gang, with Red Scorpion personally in charge, and the guards are even tighter than the Federal Army's headquarters."

"I must go." Lin Fan looked up, his eyes firm. "I cannot let Victor's plan succeed."

Franklin looked at him and was silent for a few seconds. Then he suddenly laughed, a smile that carried a hint of amusement, a hint of admiration, and a hint of imperceptible calculation.

"Interesting." Franklin said. "Michael De Santa didn't misjudge you. You want me to help you? Fine. But I have conditions."

"What conditions?" Lin Fan asked.

"First, from now on, you follow my orders." Franklin held up a finger, his tone unquestionable. "I don't care what system or skills you have; at the docks, I call the shots. Second, don't hold me back. If you dare to ruin my plans, I will throw you to Red Scorpion without hesitation. Third, after it's done, I get a copy of what's on the flash drive."

Lin Fan hesitated for a moment. He knew Franklin's conditions were harsh, but he had no other choice now. Michael De Santa's fate was unknown, his system skills were locked, and he could never get past the dock guards alone.

"Fine." Lin Fan gritted his teeth. "I agree."

Franklin nodded in satisfaction. He dragged a backpack from behind the wooden crate and threw it to Lin Fan: "Inside are a waterproof suit, night-vision goggles, and a modified submachine gun. Put them on; we set off tonight."

Lin Fan took the backpack, his heart filled with excitement. He finally had an ally, an ally who could contend with Victor and Red Scorpion.

Just then, a system notification sound suddenly rang in his mind, crisp and loud, shattering his joy.

"Ding! New function detected and activated—[Loyalty Scan]!"

"Current target: Franklin. Loyalty: 30%!"

"Loyalty is below 50%; there is a risk of betrayal! Please cooperate with caution, Host!"

Lin Fan's footsteps halted abruptly, and the smile on his face froze.

He suddenly looked up at Franklin. The latter was standing with his back to him, cooking something on the kerosene stove, his shoulder lines appearing exceptionally rugged in the light of the emergency lamp.

30% loyalty.

That meant this man could betray him at any moment.

Lin Fan felt a complex mix of emotions. He looked at Franklin's back, then looked down at the backpack in his hand, and suddenly felt that this upcoming trip to the docks was far more dangerous than he had imagined.

The sewer sewage was still flowing with a gurgling sound, the emergency light flickering on and off, illuminating two people, each with their own hidden thoughts.

In the darkness, there seemed to be a pair of invisible eyes, watching their every move.

And in the direction of the docks, murderous intent was already lurking everywhere.