Chapter 4: The heist

Richard lay on the sofa in his apartment building, the weight of his audacious plan pressing down on him.

Five days had crawled by since Richard hatched his audacious plan: robbing his own Carter Industries branch in Arcadia. It was a desperate gamble fueled by necessity.

Ever since the lab explosion, his mana heart had been damaged, rendering him a powerless shell of his former self. His solution? A portable operational orb that could directly tap into his wellspring of mana and channel it through his body at will.

Its design was based on what he knew best, building mana cores. Traditional mana cores were pre-charged using mana crystals or the mana heart of high-ranking beasts, humans generally lacking enough mana to charge a core but over the days a deep introspection revealed a startling truth – his mana heart now housed a monstrous reservoir of mana.

The design of the orb was ambitious, a quad-core marvel requiring the finest materials, high-ranking mana crystals for the core, Mithril conductors for the conduit, a power cell with a regulator to prevent mana overload of the orb, titanium housing, and an array of specialized tools and equipment from micro-wielders to calibration equipment. Here's where the "robbing-his-own-company" part came in.

The plan was daring: infiltrate the Research and Development and Advanced Weaponry sections of Carter Industries and abscond with the necessary materials. His accomplice, Tom, wasn't the most sophisticated partner. Convincing an ordinary person wouldn't have been easy but Tom was a simple man, a high risk simply needed a higher reward to match it. Richard had simply dangled the promise of a hefty cut from the stolen mana crystals.

There were three big advantages they had. One, timing, the waves of cataclysmic events hadn't yet occurred, therefore several security features hadn't yet been created.

Two, Richard himself, the founder of the company, involved in the design of that very branch knew the building like the back of his hand, all the corridors, floor and security protocols and access codes necessary

And Three, the building had recently been commissioned and there was a showcase of the building's state-of-the-art facilities to journalists and media agents coming up a day from now, this was their in, passing the biggest hurdle in the first place, actually entering the building. From there it was only a matter of Tom creating a distraction for Carter to move to get what he needed.

Sounded simple enough barring one or two details.

Carter had prepared the tools and equipment he needed in the five days. D-Day was tomorrow, he'd thought it over and over, and he and Tom were ready. Nothing should go wrong…

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D-Day

Dawn painted the Arcadia skyline in hues of orange and pink as Richard and Tom mingled with a throng of journalists and bloggers outside the imposing Carter Industries building. Gone were the days of Richard's sharp suits and tailored shirts. Today, he was a writer for the newly minted blog, "Techpalz," complete with a rumpled t-shirt, cargo pants, and a duffelbag held in his hands. Tom, naturally bulkier, sported a similar disguise. The real Techpalz writers, unfortunately, were currently unconscious in a back alley, courtesy of a well-timed "interview."

Their guide, a young man named David Chang with a nervous chip in his voice, ushered them in with a practiced smile. The tour was informative, a showcase of Carter Industries' cutting-edge technology. But Richard barely registered the details. His mind was a whirlwind of calculations, constantly checking his watch and exchanging furtive glances with Tom.

Finally, after an hour and forty-five minutes, they reached the third floor. This was it. Show time.

"Excuse me," Richard interrupted the tour guide mid-sentence. "Nature calls. Where's the nearest restroom?"

David gestured down the hall. "Down the hall to the right, you can't miss it."

Richard peeled away from the group, his duffelbag bouncing with every step. He glanced at his watch – twenty minutes remaining.

The bathroom was thankfully empty, sterile, and white with the faint scent of disinfectant. From his duffelbag, Richard unearthed a crumpled security guard uniform, a souvenir from a late-night tailing of a security worker to his home and stealing a pair. Slipping into the uniform felt like a second skin, a cloak of authority.

With practiced movement, he scaled the wall and popped open an air vent. A wave of stale air hit him as he crawled into the cramped space. Just as he expected, the exertion sent a jolt of pain through his chest. The after-effects of the explosion were a constant unwelcome companion. Popping a few mana suppressants into his mouth, he forced himself forward, time ticking away.

The air vent system was like a labyrinth of metal tunnels. Richard's memory, though not perfect, guided him. Finally, he reached his target – a ventilation shaft directly above the entrance to the Research and Development section. Another glance at his watch – one minute to go.

A small hitch. Security cameras blinked ominously above the entrance. Richard, however, was prepared. He fumbled in his duffelbag and pulled out a cobbled-together EMP device, a Frankenstein's monster of scavenged parts from the city junkyard. It wouldn't cause any major damage, but it would be enough to disrupt the cameras for a few precious seconds.

Just then, a piercing alarm sliced through the silence. Fire alarm. Tom's cue.

With a silent prayer, Richard activated the EMP device. The cameras flickered and died. He kicked open the vent cover and dropped down into the deserted Research and Development section. The faint smell of burnt wires mingled with the sterile air.

"There's a fire alarm," he announced mimicking a commanding voice.

A few startled researchers glanced up from their workbenches, momentarily confused. Richard, channeling his best security guard impersonation, barked orders. "Evacuate the building calmly. Follow the designated emergency exits."

The researchers, accustomed to authority figures, didn't question him. Within seconds, the room was empty. Richard made a beeline for the storage vault, his movements swift and precise. He knew exactly what he needed: Titanium, Mithril conductors, and as many high-level mana crystals as he could afford to take, along with the tools and equipment necessary.

There wasn't a moment to waste. The fire alarm was a false flag, and real security personnel might be on their way. With a final longing glance at the remaining crystals, Richard slammed the container shut and bolted towards the exit.

The next stop: Advanced Weaponry. Reaching this section required traversing the main hallway, a risky proposition. Richard, however, had an ace up his sleeve. He pulled a black cap from his duffelbag and jammed it down, obscuring most of his face. He needed to get there fast before someone recognized him – especially the ever-vigilant security cameras that were likely back online.

He power-walked through the hallway, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Reaching the entrance to Advanced Weaponry, he was met by a formidable sight – two heavily armed guards flanking a steel door.

Panic gnawed at Richard. He had hoped there wouldn't be a physical confrontation. But there was no turning back. Taking a deep breath, he plastered a confident grin on his face and approached the guards.

"Hey there," he greeted them casually, hoping his voice wouldn't betray his nervousness. "Delivery for the Advanced Weaponry room."

The guards eyed him suspiciously. "Delivery from where? What's in the bag?" one of them questioned, his voice gruff.

Richard felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple. Time for improvisation. He rumbled, his voice deeper than usual, "Internal transfer. Top priority. Now, step aside."

The guards weren't easily convinced. One of them took a step closer, scrutinizing him. Richard knew he was on thin ice. He needed to do something and fast.

A mischievous glint sparked in his eyes. He pretended to fumble with his backpack, a pre-planned move. As the guard leaned in to get a better look, Richard unleashed his surprise weapon – a homemade miniature taser he'd fashioned himself.

The guard yelped as the electricity crackled, his body seizing up. Richard reacted instantly, using the stunned guard as a shield as he rammed into the other guard and tased him before he could react.

Both guards crumpled to the floor, unconscious. Richard, his heart hammering in his chest, wasted no time. He punched in the access code for the Advanced Weaponry room, a code known to all high-level individuals in the company.

The door hissed open, revealing a treasure trove of advanced weaponry. His eyes scanned the room, landing on a sleek plasma gun displayed on a pedestal. It wasn't part of his original plan, but something about the weapon's elegance and power called to him. He couldn't resist. He would need it for later.

Richard stuffed the power cells, regulation units, and the plasma gun into his duffelbag, a feeling of accomplishment battling with the growing anxiety of being discovered. He knew he had to leave, and fast.

Following his memory and retracing his steps, Richard made his way back to the air vents. This time, the climb felt agonizingly long. Reaching the bathroom, he peeled off the security guard uniform and stuffed it back into his duffelbag.

Emerging from the bathroom, he blended seamlessly back into the crowd of confused, restless journalists and bloggers. Outside, he found Tom waiting by the designated meeting point. They exchanged a quick, wordless nod before disappearing into the bustling streets of Arcadia, the spoils of their risky heist safely hidden.