Vice Bunker 41 (Patreon)

Vice Bunker

Chapter 41

-VB-

Alan Marris

Re-establishing contact with PRT ENE did not go as smoothly as I would have liked for a number of reasons.

First, the residents of my bunker did not appreciate the idea of reconnecting with people who just fucked themselves over. Danny Hebert, of all people, was the loudest in this regard.

“Why would you let them in again?” he asked me in my office… while another one of my bodies pounded away at his daughter in a different room. It would have been very awkward if he walked into that room, considering that said room was also a meeting room. Fortunately, he came to the office instead.

“I’m not ‘letting them in,’ as you word it,” I replied with a glare. “Don’t make any mistake. There is nothing in this world right now that will see me give control of the bunker over to them, even if the USA comes back.”

“Then why bother?”

I looked at him for a moment, trying to see what his angle was. Danny was a blessing for my bunker, acting as an intermediary with a number of people who were all still reluctant with me. You could even call him the head of the “reluctant” faction. Him being here could potentially be a result of said faction of people not wanting to reconnect with the PRT ENE, who not only fucked up their own bunker but represented the past.

And, oh boy, did the past look dim compared to now. Yes, they lived in an underground bunker with limited freedom of movement. However, there was almost no crime. There was also no demand for high taxes. As long as you wanted a job, I got you a job, whether it was a night security job at the topside gate or a position of a hydroponic farmer. Life was safe in my bunker.

But the PRT ENE? Their very existence heralded the “Silver Age of Parahumans,” also known to the few who knew and had access to information as the Declining Age in not just population but also the economy, society, morality, and more. To my people, the initial breaking of relations and my summarization of the events leading up to it only solidified that idea. So why the hell would I open it back up?

Danny already knew that New York City was surviving. He knew that the “USA” as he knew of it may be gone but it still survived on the surface. Sooner or later, people from the surface will try to make problems, and I personally thought that the PRT ENE could be used as a shield, if you will. If the surfacers had an idea of what was going on in my bunker, then they will find assurance in that knowledge whereas complete isolation might spark fears of cultish behavior, army building, or of the unknown. Any one of the three might trigger some kind of investigation, which will definitely lead to confrontation.

I could beat them all, probably, if given enough time, which I most likely had considering that Alexandria couldn’t even control a third of what was left of the Big Apple. However, fighting wasn’t what I wanted.

What I wanted was better control, and a … let’s say outside threat, could potentially prove to be an example of what will happen if I lose control of my own bunker but also as a more humane and stabilizing method of exile should I ever need to exile someone.

“I would rather have a line to ask if we need it than find ourselves stuck without any potential help.”

Danny stared at me before sighing.

Second, when I did open the tunnel back up and the PRT ENE asked what happened to Shadow Stalker… Well, let’s just say that they were unhappy after finding out that I, a man (a weird Case-53 man but a man nonetheless), somehow convinced her to join my harem of girls. Armsmaster had a few things to say, but ultimately, he relented after a single conversation with Sophia.

And speaking of Sophia, she hadn’t changed much. She was still the aggressive bitch but she was also an aggressive bitch who learned that she was a size queen and I had all of the sizes available for her to “browse.”

The third and final reason for why the reopening did not go as smoothly … was actually my fault.

See, I thought I could just physically reopen the tunnel, but I hadn’t taken the structural integrity of a collapsed tunnel into account and crushed myself when the tunnel, expectedly, collapsed after I removed the blocking rocks and debris. I wasn’t hurt, of course, but it did erode the trust people had in the connecting tunnel. Sufficed to say, very few people were willing to use the tunnel or station themselves inside of it, even after a whole month of nothing else happening in it.

“Well, I’m here now,” Amy grunted as she stepped out of the tunnel on the PRT’s side. She turned around to look at me. “You can go now. Shoo,” she said.

I snorted as I watched her walk away toward what passed for their hospital.

Amy chose to come and help the PRT even after everything that happened, which really did make her a hero despite her low profile compared to many other heroes.

“Yal’Manus.”

I looked the other way from where Amy was heading and found Clockblocker of all people standing in wait for me.

“Morning, Clockblocker,” I greeted with a nod.

Clockblocker was a survivor and a leader, but one who had to become those things because he had to. The “civil war” within PRT ENE bunker had mentally scarred the young man, and while he put up a strong front when he was outside his room, he didn’t look so great in privacy.

Knowing what was happening in their bunker was also why I was okay with opening up to them. The civil war had done more than just kill off a decent portion of their population but also left them open to my future influence.

“Is it morning?” Clockblocker hummed. “Well, we can’t tell cuz we’re stuck underground~.”

It lacked his usual upbeat tone.

“Anyway, Armsmaster wanted your help with that communication relay of his. He still can’t get it to break through the blizzards above.”

“Well, let’s see what I can help him with.”