After all, for Byrne, NZT-48 was the only thing left that could help him survive this calamity. If it worked, it was a massive gain; if not, he'd just have to accept his fate.
Setting his mind, Byrne sat up, laid his hands flat on the desk, and closed his eyes. He visualized the appearance of the NZT-48 pill from the movie. However, after a long while, the result he anticipated still hadn't manifested.
Just as Byrne thought he was going to fail again and prepared to accept reality, he suddenly felt something appear in his hand. His brow furrowed slightly, and he opened his eyes.
There, in the palm of his right hand, was a small, completely transparent pill.
"It worked! It actually worked!"
Byrne gingerly picked up the pill, holding it close to his eyes to inspect it. It was transparent, colorless, odorless, and its surface was perfectly smooth—it looked no different from an ordinary vitamin. Had Byrne not known the secret, he would never have believed that such a mundane little pill could grant someone a super-brain.
Without a moment's hesitation, Byrne tilted his head back and swallowed it.
However, ten seconds passed, and the miraculous effects he expected from the movie did not occur.
What's the deal? Is there a delay because of the different world? Or does NZT-48 simply lose its potency in the Warhammer universe?
Just as his mind began to race with doubt, a cool current of air suddenly surged from his core, traveling up his spine and shooting straight into his brain. It felt as if a clogged pipe of thought had been cleared with a rod; his once-congested, groggy mind became instantly clear and transparent.
Byrne turned his head, his gaze landing on the open copy of Five Years of Tax Collection, Three Years of Simulation. The dense, dizzying text now appeared incredibly distinct. Every point of knowledge seemed highlighted, automatically categorized and organized within his mind.
[Industrial Waste Disposal Tax: Rate ranges from 3% to 7%, classified by pollution level. Level 1 (Recyclable/Refining) 3%; Level 2 (Requires special treatment) 5%; Level 3 (Non-biodegradable and highly toxic) 7%...]
As Byrne scanned line after line, legal interpretations and past exam questions instantly linked together into a logically rigorous network in his head. He had spent seven days of hard labor just to memorize two tax law books. Now, his brain functioned like an implanted database; with a single thought, the relevant content was retrieved.
He picked up the thickest book on the desk, the Imperial Tax Law Compendium, and flipped through it rapidly. Clauses that used to seem obscure were fully comprehended with a single glance.
It was currently just after 1:00 PM. He still had more than half a day before tomorrow's exam. With his brain enhanced by NZT-48, finishing the remaining seven volumes—and memorizing every single detail—was more than achievable.
In just a few hours, he had finished every book on the table. As he closed the final page, Byrne shut his eyes, and a complete knowledge map generated itself in his mind. From basic statutes to high-level applications, from traps in past exams to predicted focus areas, every thread of information was clear and precise—more accurate than the databases of the Imperial Segmentum Archives.
"Phew..."
Byrne let out a long breath, a spark of excitement flashing in his eyes. Heh, with the boost from NZT-48, if I still can't pass this, there's no justice in the world.
Having sat for so long, Byrne prepared to stand and stretch. Just then, a rapid, urgent pounding echoed from the door downstairs. Byrne froze, feeling confused. During his study week, he had kept the shop closed; no one should be looking for him for mechanical repairs.
Could it be the conscription officer?
He dismissed the thought. There were still eight days until the deadline; according to protocol, they shouldn't be here this early.
Who is it?
Byrne walked downstairs to the shop front. When he opened the door, he saw Keith.
Keith had changed his clothes, and if he hadn't pulled down his face mask, Byrne might not have recognized him at first glance.
"Oh, it's you. Back so soon for—"
Byrne stopped mid-sentence because Keith was injured. In Byrne's eyes, as dashing as Keith had been when he dropped those thirty Throne Gelt a week ago, he was equally pathetic now.
His clothes were torn in several places and stained with blood. One lens of his sunglasses was shattered, revealing a mechanical prosthetic eye that flickered with unstable red light, looking as though it might crash at any moment.
"Mr. Keith, what happened to you?"
Keith clutched his left arm and replied, "Someone is chasing me. Let me hide out in your place for a bit."
Hide here?
Byrne was about to refuse, but Keith forced his way inside, locking the door behind him in one fluid motion—an action carried out with the sharp intensity of a man fresh from a fight. Keith then tossed a coin pouch to Byrne.
"Don't worry. I'm not hiding for free."
Byrne caught the pouch and opened it. This time it wasn't Throne Gelt, but Korol silver coins—dozens of them. Though not as valuable as Throne coins, when converted to credit vouchers, it was a substantial sum.
Heh, still as rich as ever.
Byrne stashed the money, glanced outside, then turned back to Keith with curiosity. "You look pretty banged up. Did you run into an old enemy?"
Keith shook his head. "Not an enemy."
Byrne asked again, "Did you do something? Are you being hunted?"
He thought this because, during their first meeting, he had pegged Keith as likely being a space pirate. It was normal for a pirate to be wanted by the government. For Byrne, as long as he wasn't implicated, helping out for a fee was acceptable.
Keith shook his head again. "Don't worry, Boss. It's just a little bit of trouble. It won't involve you."
Byrne breathed a sigh of relief. Oh, just a little trouble. That's fine then.
A few minutes later, the shop door was hammered again. He opened it to find a squad of enforcers.
Each soldier wore heavy carapace armor emblazoned with the Imperial double-headed eagle. They carried heavy stubbers, and every step they took made a dull, heavy thud.
The squad leader checked Byrne's citizen ID card first. Once the info was verified, he projected a hologram and demanded, "Have you seen this man?"
Byrne looked at the image. It was Keith.
He immediately shook his head. "Never seen him. What did he do?"
The leader deactivated the hologram and said sternly, "This man is a member of the Rebel Army. He infiltrated the city to assassinate the Governor. Fortunately, he failed."