Arcane: Broken Mechanism

The next day, Jerry brought Sirion back to the upper levels of the plant, where their next "training" began. This time, there was no longer the same indifference in the man's eyes. It seemed that he was genuinely interested in the newcomer's abilities, even if he hid it behind a stern expression.

"Today, we'll test how agile you are," he said, pointing to several metal structures stretched above ground level. "It won't be easy jumping on roofs. In Zaun, there are tasks where you'll have to work in confined spaces or at heights, where a mistake can cost you your life."

Sirion nodded, wiping his hands on his pants. He had already realized that parkour was not just a skill here, but a necessity. But the pain in his stomach from yesterday was still making itself felt, reminding him that he couldn't relax. The first test involved climbing over several overhead pipes hanging at different heights. The pipes were slippery with condensation, and every move required precision and concentration. Sirion, to his own surprise, managed it quite confidently, almost instinctively calculating every move.

"Not bad," Jerry said dryly. "But this is just a warm-up. Now get up there," he pointed to a narrow ledge near the wall of the neighboring building, which was barely visible behind the clouds of green smoke.

"And how do I get there?" Sirion asked, estimating the distance.

"Think for yourself. If I decided everything for you, I would have lost my head long ago," Jerry grinned, sitting down on a metal beam to observe. Sirion thought about it. The ledge was almost out of reach for a simple jump. He looked around the area: chains hanging from the upper levels of the plant, a metal frame nearby and the remains of a wooden platform.

"Okay, let's try," he decided, mentally calculating the trajectory.

He grabbed the chain first, climbed higher, then pushed off with all his might, clinging to the frame and, using the momentum, jumped onto the ledge. His heart was pounding wildly as he pulled himself up on his hands and stood up.

"Are you sure you're one of us?" Jerry shouted from below, a hint of surprise in his voice. Sirion only shrugged, trying to hide his pride. He had yet to understand why his body moved so naturally and confidently in these conditions.

***

Sirion looked doubtfully at the plate that Jerry handed him. The food looked... to put it mildly, questionable. In the dark brown mass, emitting a sharp smell, one could discern pieces of something that resembled scraps of vegetables or, perhaps, meat.

"Eat, or you'll collapse before I have time to make a normal courier out of you," Jerry said shortly, starting on his portion. His plate looked just as unappealing, but the man ate without the slightest hint of disgust.

"Are you sure it's safe?" Sirion asked cautiously, examining the contents of his portion, as if he expected it to move.

"If I wanted to poison you, I would have done it yesterday," Jerry chuckled. "Get used to it, boy. This is the best you'll get here."

Sirion took a deep breath, trying to overcome his disgust, and carefully put the first spoonful into his mouth. The taste was... odd. A bitter aftertaste mixed with something sour and slightly sweet. But hunger took its toll, and soon he was eating faster than he would have imagined. He had already gone several days without food, if you think about it, so this stew tasted much better than it actually was.

"Not so bad," he muttered uncertainly, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. Jerry watched him with a smirk as he finished his portion.

"You'll get used to it. You know, if it weren't for your clothes and the fact that you run so well on rooftops, and you've lived here in our area for some time, I'd think you were Piltie," the adult man made an unpleasant face. "In Zaun, it's important to know how to eat what you're given and not ask unnecessary questions. Questions are a luxury," he said, setting his plate aside. - You still have training ahead of you, so gather your strength.

Sirion nodded, thinking about his mentor's words. He increasingly felt how this world was beginning to be absorbed into him, leaving less room for the familiar life that he knew so well.

Sirion glanced again at the translucent screen in front of him, where the familiar words were flashing:

"System loaded at 81%"

He exhaled, barely containing his irritation. Since the morning, he had checked the progress several times, as if he could make it load faster with just his mind. Every 5-10 minutes, he would steadily look at the loading bar, except that at the very beginning it loaded much faster than it had recently.

"The Inventor's System..." he repeated thoughtfully to himself, again trying to figure out what it would be. The name itself clearly hinted at something related to technology, the creation of mechanisms, or even... chemistry? But how could it work in this world? How would he be able to use it? Sirion had never been an engineer or a mechanic, but the modern world he came from required at least a basic knowledge of technology. He knew how to use tools, knew the basics of physics, and was a little interested in gadgets. But would that be enough?

"In this world where every day is a struggle for survival, technology is power. If this system can give me even the slightest advantage, it will be my chance to get out of this hole," he thought, rubbing his wounded side again.

He closed his eyes, imagining how he could use the system. Portable mechanisms? Potions or chemical mixtures? Maybe even something that would change Zaun, or at least help him climb the social hierarchy of the world and get to a better life through Piltover Academy... From the series, he knew for sure that the same Victor got there solely for his intelligence, thanks to Heimerdinger.

"What are you hanging around there for?" Jerry's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Sirion raised his head and met his mentor's mocking gaze.

"Oh, I think..." he mumbled, waving his hand.

"You think? Hm. Okay, eat and let's go. We still have half a day of training, and then they'll show you the real work.

"Wait, can you please answer my question?" - Sirion stood up to follow Jerry, but stopped abruptly in place. He would soon be leaving for his first mission, but they hadn't told him any details, so he had to figure everything out himself.

"Ask away", - he turned to face the guy. - "I'll answer what I think is necessary."— Sirion hesitated for a moment, trying to formulate the question so that it would sound appropriate.

"What exactly will I have to do?" — he finally asked. — "Well... on the first mission, I mean."

"What difference does it make to you? Do what they tell you, and don't ask too many questions", — Jerry chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes, I understand", — Sirion scratched the back of his head, trying to hide his excitement. — "I just want to know how... dangerous all this is?"

"Dangerous?" — Jerry chuckled and shrugged. — "It's always dangerous. Especially in our city. But at first, you won't be sent on a deadly mission, if that makes you calm down", — Sirion relaxed a little, but Jerry continued. — "You'll be a courier. At first glance, it sounds like a simple job, right? But Zaun is not a place where you can safely carry packages. Here, every delivery is a risk. Competitors, thieves, and sometimes local authorities in the form of rival chem-barons and criminal gangs can trip you up in order to intercept goods or letters. So be on your guard."

"I understand, but what exactly am I transporting? Why would rival chem-barons trip me up, I thought our Boss had some kind of agreement, well, some kind of alliance with other crime bosses?" Sirion answered quietly, but the question that really worried him remained unspoken. "What will happen if I fail?" flashed through his mind.

Jerry, apparently, caught his mood and added:

"And you yourself do not guess, I already managed to think that you are not a stupid guy, with a head on your shoulders," he chuckled in response. - But why should I blame you, you are just coming of age and have just entered adolescence. There are agreements, but they are only on paper. After the attempted revolution of Zaun 6 years ago, our economy finally collapsed and as you understand, our economy was not strong to begin with. The Piltoverians, - he spat at the mention of the city. - Clutched the layers of our city even tighter, so as not to repeat the revolution. As a result, our poor people became even poorer, because all legal spheres of business were heavily taxed by the Piltover Council.

"And that is why Chem-tech, as an illegal sphere of activity, came to the fore?" - he continued the thought of his temporary mentor. - "So I will be transporting goods that are a result of Chem-tech production?"

"Exactly, I told you, you have a head on your shoulders, boy", - Jerry grinned. - "Couriers transport not only Chem-tech, but also various blueprints and messages to other districts and factories. As you understand, couriers should not attract attention and therefore they transport only the most important things, in small quantities, what can be carried in two hands and not attract unnecessary attention. Of course, sometimes there are orders from criminal bases for the delivery of weapons based on chem-tech, but they are rare" , - Sirion thought for a moment at his words, his heart again pounding a little harder than usual due to fear of possible threats to life. Apparently, Jerry noticed his condition and said. - "Look, you look like you've already buried yourself. Relax. If I'm not mistaken about you, you can handle it. You parkour better than most, that's already a plus. The rest is a matter of time and experience."

Sirion nodded, not knowing what to say. He felt that Jerry was not saying this out of kindness, but because he saw him as a tool for doing the job. But even that seemed like something to cling to in this cruel world.

"The Enforcers also catch couriers, if they try to strangle the Chem-tech production? — he asked another question". — "If Chem-tech is really so dangerous and harmful, why doesn't Piltover try to strangle its production at the root?"

"Don't talk nonsense. The Pilties can't just fall into the lowest levels of Zaun and dictate their terms here. They've successfully seized influence in the upper layers of the city, and even walk around there just like they belong to them, but cutting off the root of the problem is not that easy even for these bastards", — Jerry sighed. — "Our internal economy is built on Chem-tech and the factories that produce them have a lot of security and, as a result, a lot of armed people. Piltover has established total control over the circulation of firearms in Zaun, and it is the crime lords in Zaun who have all the remaining weapons in the city, if I may say so. Why would they sacrifice their golden asses if Chem-tech only kills the people of Zaun? Until the problem affects them, they won't even raise an eyebrow."

"Is it used as a drug or as a weapon, I still don't get it?" Sirion asked another question.

"You ask too many questions. I already told you that you shouldn't do this, especially in our field of activity," Jerry scratched his chin. "But okay, as a courier it will be useful for you to know. Chem-tech is everything you can imagine: a medicine, a weapon filling, and a medicine in reasonable doses. It all depends on the production method. Even here," he pulled out his mechanical prosthetic leg in which a green liquid was bubbling. "

Can you call me a drug addict? We just don't have the money or other options like Piltover to produce products that are useful to us. We use what we have. Yes, in the wrong doses and in general it is a very strong drug that ruins lives, and the weapons created on the basis of Chem-tech are dangerous, but this is our life.

Sirion thought very hard about his words. But really, the poor population of Zaun simply has no choice. All spheres of the city's industry were under the control of Piltover. Zaun, it seems, has been famous for its Chem-tech since ancient times, which was official for a long time. In fact, for many decades, Zaun's fame was due to this. And now, in very difficult times for them, when Piltover imposed an embargo on Zaun's trade, they have no choice. No import, no export of products. No money to produce good medicine. People live as best they can.

"Okay, let's go. Time does not wait," Jerry said, waving his hand.

Sirion followed him, feeling every step bring him closer to the unknown.