Trace wasn’t interested in taking credit for how odd things were becoming lately. He had done one thing as part of a job, but that was it. He wasn’t going to try and pretend that the world revolved around him, or that some secret conspiracy was going on with him at the center of it. Doing that only led to death or other problems.

  He had seen what happened to kids in the past who claimed credit for things they hadn’t actually done. It was rarely pretty, especially if the wrong person found out. It was a hard lesson that many kids on the street who valued their reputation learned too late.

  A short while after Anna left the clinic, Ko helped Trace make his escape as well. Sevorah was starting to become more insistent on wanting to know about his hand and arm.

  “Good night and don’t worry, I’ll get the information on the manifests for you. I’ll come over to the warehouse in the morning.” She said as she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “It’s probably better if you gave her a few days to cool off before coming around again.”

  He shook his head with a chuckle and strolled out the door of the clinic with a wave. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  From the clinic, Trace took the truck to the black market. At the moment, he had more credits than he had ever possessed in the past. After selling those rebreather masks, multiple scav locations, and the payouts for the three jobs that Stick-Point had sent him earlier, Trace was practically rich. At least in his own estimation.

  Despite that, it could still all be gone with a single module, especially if he started trying to buy the better tiers.

  As much as it annoyed him, he would be staying away from buying any of the modules this time around. He would still take a look. If he was lucky, he might be able to trick another seller into letting him try one out and then copying its data like he had before.

  No, this time he was more interested in getting some normal supplies, at least for the most part.

  A toolbox to replace the backseat of the truck. Lights for the basement. Pipes, and everything else he would need to make the filtration system for the warehouse. A dark suit as the base for his stealth armor. Possibly a better 3D printer.

  Really, the list of items was endless.

  In one of his conversations with Deckard, he had pointed out that what Trace had been doing with the foam on the railgun could have easily been done with the printer as well. In that particular instance, he was fine with the foam. That might not always be the case in the future, which is why he was thinking about getting another one.

  He had known they were useful. However, he had honestly forgotten about the original purpose behind the printers after buying the first one and modifying it. As a result, Trace wasn’t quite sure how much use he would get out of it. That said, the more materials it could handle, the more use it would see.

  Taking the elevator down, Trace began his shopping trip.

  Once more, he was reminded how different this black market was from a normal market. There was the obvious in than that some of the goods had been stolen. The more important difference was that nearly everything else had been customized in some way. Only the freshly stolen goods could be bought in an unmodified state.

  It didn’t matter what it was; they had been customized. Clothes that had been reinforced against blades, or small arms fire. Even the toolbox he bought for his truck had been upgraded with better rollers for the drawers and hinges on the lid. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A lot of the upgrades were like that actually, simple things that fixed something the corporation had cheaped out on in production.

  It took a while of walking around, but Trace began to collect a few items, choosing to have them sent up to the truck each time. No one would steal from the back of his truck while it was in the parking garage. They had guards there, specifically preventing that sort of behavior. Last time around, he and Monroe had chosen to park in the parking lot instead of the garage. Since he was alone this time, he had gone with the easier, if more expensive, option.

  The toolbox that would replace the backseat on the driver’s side was actually the first item he found and had sent up. It would go in the truck bed for now, obviously, until he installed it once he was back at the warehouse. For now, he was only going to put it on the one side and leave seats available on the other side.

  After that, he came across some spotlights that he could use in the basement. They were large and would have to be delivered the next day, along with several spools of fresh cabling. A brief conversation with them also led to them promising to bring all the supplies he would need to install a filtration system.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Apparently, there were two major expenses involved in those systems, the filters, and a pump which forced the water through the filters. In his case, he would need multiple pumps, but he also just so happened to have a couple that he could retrofit for this purpose. The piping itself wasn’t actually all that expensive, it was just a matter of finding it, which in this case he got lucky with.

  From there, the remaining items just sort of fell into place. Having money was wonderful, and spending it was far too easy.

  ***

  “You look wrung out,” Deckard commented when Trace dragged himself into the apartment many hours after originally leaving.

  “If I look anything like I feel, then I’ve seen better corpses.” He gingerly pulled the noise-canceling earbuds from his ears with a sigh of relief. He was immensely glad that he had remembered to bring them with him. The noise down there was just on another level, and while he hadn’t suffered another episode or whatever you wanted to call his little problem, it still wasn’t pleasant.

  “Is this from having dinner with Ko and the others, or the black market?”

  Trace chuckled. “Sure, we can blame my current condition on Sevorah. Just don’t tell her that.” He shook his head and stretched out on the bed where he had plopped himself down upon entering. “No, it was the black market. Even with the earbuds in, all the noise that leaks in from nearby conversations, and just the number of people in the place starts to get to me after a while.”

  “Are you sensitive to sound or noise?” Deckard asked after a moment.

  “I don’t know. What’s the difference?”

  “Really, it depends on the qualifiers behind the meaning. In this case, I mean sounds such as gunfire, metal falling, and the wind passing through an open window. Noise would be humans speaking, chattering incessantly, making their noisy, irritating vocal patterns.”

  Trace chuckled. “It sounds like I’m not the only one who finds people talking to be annoying.”

  Deckard’s avatar slumped, and his head hung over the back of his computer chair. “You know I grew up in a robotic body, right? The first of its kind.” Trace nodded. “I was, unfortunately, the test platform for many things. Which was fine when I was older and could speak and help them. However, as a baby… as a child, things were different. The way I interfaced with technology was different from how my mother does it. Certain items didn’t transfer over well, such as the connections for what were supposed to be my ears.”

  He sighed and ran a digital hand down his face. “So yes, I do absolutely still have issues with people talking incessantly. What’s your excuse?”

  “No excuse. Every once in a while, both just really bother me. Different things tend to happen. Sometimes I’ll simply grow agitated and annoyed, unpleasant to be around for the day and that’s it. Other times, it causes my heart to speed up, nausea to build, and me to get sick. Then there is the third one.”

  Trace moved his tongue about inside his mouth, lightly biting down on it. “Those ones are the weirdest. I’ll get surges of electricity through my tongue, little shocks, and then my perception of the world slows down. It would be useful if it sped up instead, but what can you do?”

  “How often do these things occur?” The avatar was sitting forward in his chair, looking closely at him.

  “They used to happen all the time when I was younger and on the street. Once I started doing jobs for Stick-Point, they gradually became less common. Now, I only experience a couple of them a year.”

  “Interesting. I wonder if it was something related to your diet, missing nutrients or vitamins that your body desperately needed?” Deckard postulated lightly.

  “Eh, who knows?” Trace stood up. “Now, are you ready for some goodies?”

  “Way to discreetly change the subject, but sure, what did you get?”

  “Who cares about being discreet? I just had nothing more to say on the matter.” Trace said over his shoulder as he walked out the door, only to return a minute later with several spools of material.

  “Those don’t fit this printer, especially not with the modified intake tray in place,” Deckard told him.

  “I’m aware. Just hold on.”

  Several trips later and they were greeted with the presence of a second 3D printer in the office, turned apartment. It was much larger than the first one and could print from multiple spools at the same time, and on different axes.

  Deckard ran a quick search for that specific model of printer and quickly noticed a few changes from the one on the floor. The base model was indeed capable of printing from two different spools at the same time. Assuming that one of them was on the ‘Y’ axis, and the other was on the ‘X’ axis, that much had stayed the same.

  However, the intake spools had been modified in such a way that the current spool line could be cut and another different line joined to it seamlessly. It was one of many modifications that had been made to the printer, along with several precision cameras and stabilizers for the entire unit.

  It couldn’t process metal, not in the same way the cheaper printer could, but it was most definitely a proper 3D printer. The larger print area would also allow them greater freedom in what they could make. No longer would they be limited to items the size of an apple.

  “How much did that cost you?” Deckard already knew that the unmodified version cost four thousand credits, or four times as much as the other one they had.

  “Five thousand credits,” Trace mumbled.

  It was actually a decent price, considering everything that had been modified. Until you remembered that he then needed to also buy all the spools of materiel as well. It was no wonder that he was more than a little annoyed.

  “They said they modified the OS on the printer, but you’ll want to go through and redo it yourself anyway,” Trace said as he began putting it together next to his work desk. He didn’t want this printer near the other one and the heat it was constantly giving off.

  There was more to be done and brought in from the back of the truck still. However, for the moment, Trace was tired, and it was more important that he get his studying in and then get some sleep. He was so close to finishing both of those modules for the fourth time and finally being done with them that he could taste it.

  Granted, he could go through them more if he really wanted to, but four was the number of times he had decided on. After that, he was moving onto the next module in the sequence. He needed to keep moving forward and making progress.

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