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  One of them was crouched on one knee followed me with his automatic weapon, but the second man was lying behind him and trying to dress the wound around his thigh with a piece of his T-shirt. I’ve never been overly sensitive, but this time, I felt sorry for the guy. I extended my left hand toward them, slowly took off one strap of my backpack and, rummaging inside, I took out one of the two remaining bandages. Putting it on the floor, I again put my backpack on and moved away. Walking around the players, I loudly said:

  That is a bandage, I’ll leave it here. You’ll need it.

  Deep in my soul, I didn’t want to do that, be merciful, but my mind realized they weren’t my enemies. Because of that, I decided to give them at least the opportunity to avoid respawning. Whether it was for them that I’d done it or not, I didn’t care, my conscience was clean. I’d given them a chance, everything depended on them now. Moving about thirty meters away from the players, I disappeared behind the next turn of the road and, turning toward it, walked with my limping gait to the outpost.

  Having entered the territory of the outpost, I immediately went to my room and unloaded all the goods in the nearest corner. Critically examining the pile, I realized that I would have to find a bigger room (or even a house!), and that I indeed needed a big warehouse. Taking one set of the things I’d found, I went to see the engineers. Having reached the research center, I first asked them to call a representative of the engineering department and presented my findings to him. The representative of the engineers carefully examined the items offered to him and summarized:

  - These things, of course, are technologically advanced, but they don’t represent much of a find to me, I can pay you ... let's say ... maybe ... three thousand for them - and yet, his eyes examined these things carefully, with great interest. He also avoided looking me in the eye. I’m not one to be deceived so easily.

  - Okay, agreed ... - He immediately began to smile, but I cut him off. "I won’t offer you this rubbish; I'll go to the store and sell it to the merchants."

  He stood there with his mouth open, an echoing mixed with a sort of mooing coming from him, depending on the position of his jaw. In the meantime, I began to put everything back into my backpack, but then he exclaimed suddenly:

  - Wait, please, young man! Yes, these things are of very little technical significance, but they do matter, at least a little. So, how much do you want for them?

  - Three hundred thousand! – After hearing my words, his eyes went wide, like two cups of hot coffee.

  -What? Three hundred thousand? Are you offering me a molecular power station? The best price for this junk is ten thousand! Now, look at it, it’s barely more than scrap, why should I give you three hundred thousand? I see you’ve set your sights a bit too high, haven’t you? -

  He was already flushed at the end of his monologue.

  - You're right! - I agreed in a calm voice. - Two hundred and fifty thousand is the best price for these things, since there is no information about them in the database. -

  - You see! – He gestured meaningfully, showing the importance of the moment. -You said it yourself: “there is no information about these things in the database.” Maybe it’s just an instrument for checking the carbon monoxide saturation in the room and the overalls of the worker who conducted such an operation. And I'm kind-hearted enough to agree to buy this junk for as much as twenty thousand.

  -Are you really fucking nuts or have you lost all sense of decency? - I started talking to him casually as well, without even noticing it. – Look at the information, or do you need glasses to correct your bad eyesight? It clearly says "An Ancient RIFLE!!!!" Do you hear me? A Rifle! And that word means it’s a weapon. Therefore, no less than two hundred and thirty thousand will do! -

  Our bargaining went on like this and lasted for another hour and a half, eventually turning into a war for each sum of money. This technician reminded me very much of our deputy commander in charge of supplies and logistics, who you could end up begging to give you a sleeping bag for hours, even if he had a whole load of them in storage. It wasn’t because he was tight-fisted (he’d given us everything we’d needed for the military operations, and often more than that), it was simply something he enjoyed, when it wasn’t anything too dire. And as he’d once confessed to me, he was just bored, so he entertained himself that way. As a result, each of us got what we wanted, and we were very pleased to have managed it, every time.

  My account received 53,247 credits and he promised to give me information on the items’ tactical and technical attributes, as well as methods for using and operating them. He seemed to be going to his room, already anticipating how he would analyze their structure and go on to produce similar devices. Leaving the building of the center and traveling about thirty meters, I slapped myself on the forehead so hard that I heard the echo of my empty head. What an idiot I am! I’d wanted to be healed, and there were regeneration capsules in the center. Turning back, I again limped to the research center.

  When I was just a few meters from the building, I heard a deafening explosion and leapt backwards. During my jump, I took out the pistol from my holster and, landing on my back, slid a couple of meters on the concrete. By the time I’d managed to stop my sliding and get up, I was ready to repel the attack, an already loaded cartridge in my gun, which was aimed at the source of the blast.

  The explosion had occurred on the tenth ... err no; I quickly moved my gaze over the floors, realizing I was mistaken. Not on the tenth, but on the eleventh floor. And just a little to the left of the place where I was standing, some kind of humanlike object fell, making a small dent in the concrete surface. Next to him, on the floor, were pieces of glass, metal and concrete. The figure rose from the dent and turned his head up, looking at the flames now coming out of the blasted open holes in the eleventh floor.

  The man was in some kind of dark-ashy colored armor, which completely mimicked the outline of a man, only slightly larger in size. The armor was rather fragile in appearance, but I could see with my own eyes that it hadn’t suffered a bit of damage, and that only a small amount of soot remained on it. Suddenly, the front part of the helmet opened up to the side and, with the rest of the helmet, turned into a thick collar. Under the helmet, I saw the technician with whom I’d been haggling not five minutes ago.

  "Send the firemen to the experimental laboratory," he shouted into the microphone which was fastened behind his ear and reached to the middle of his cheek. "Call the repair people as well. The laboratory needs to be completely restored. Also, Axel, add to the list of warning signs for laboratories that it’s prohibited to open ancient weapons in laboratories with less than A-class protection. Also, prepare a paid sick-leave of 24 hours for Mr. Kulkashev, plus a day for his replication, along with an added day to make sure his morale is restored. Yes, Axel, you’re right, please charge the account of our company for his replication.”

  Shaking myself off, I went up to the engineer, and, standing beside him, also stared at the fire, which had continued to rage on the eleventh floor.

  - How is it? - I asked, the question rhetorical.

  -It's fucking bad, - he glanced at me and then looked up again.

  - And how are you still okay?

  - It’s the Eligionized exosuit, commonly known as the “elige”. Only two of these were found in one of the experimental laboratories.

  - I see. Now what?

  - Who knows… most likely, everything’s been destroyed. I really hadn’t suspected that it could also have a miniaturization block as part of its layout. I’d thought it was just a new class of energy rifle, but it turned out to be some kind of combined crap.

  And now what are you going to do - I continued to ask the truly super long and super smart questions.

  - Well ... If there are any more of these kits, I can buy them under the same terms and conditions as before. It’s better, of course, to buy two or three just in case. Although ... After today, I can pay a hundred thousand for each of them, if there�
�s more than one.

  - Nope! - ... After such a big bang, a hundred isn’t close to enough, I thought, staring at the devastation…

  -So you do have more. - He looked at me again, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

  - Well, I can get some, maybe. It depends on the price.

  And then we started bargaining again. I can imagine what it looked like: fire brigades all around us, a whole floor on fire above us, while flakes of garbage are falling on our heads, and we’re standing around and bargaining – a very surreal image.

  40 minutes later:

  -Listen, - I began wearily. - Do you, by chance, have anything to do with the army’s commissariat service?

  - How did you know? - He was quite surprised. - Yes, I was the head the weapons and ammunition depot for the Forces of the Front a long time ago.

  -It's just that you reminded me of our commander. I’d even had the thought that all supply officers were specially trained to be tight-fisted. But I checked it out, and no such training exists. -

  -Ha-ha-ha, - he laughed, wiping away the tears caused by laughter. – Okay, let's sum up. You bring me two more rifles, overalls and goggles, right? - Waiting for a nod from me, he went on. - I pay you 119,721 credits for each set. Also, after the research is concluded, I’ll give you all the necessary information on how to use and operate one such kit, - I nodded again, agreeing with him. - And the last thing, if I start producing these items, then you’re due three percent of the net profits. -

  - Yeah.

  -All right, it’s a deal, - he agreed and held out his hand to me.

  I clasped his hand, but didn’t release it after we shook on it. While he’d been shaking my hand, the corner of his mouth had twisted up into a slight grin. My brain analyzed everything at a frantic pace, and I realized that, somehow, I’d made a mistake, but I couldn’t understand how. Then I remembered that, on the first day, several players had complained that the system doesn’t display quests and it’s necessary to memorize all your tasks, and then I remembered Litara’s words about the server recording all our actions. Without releasing the engineer's hand, I smiled broadly and said:

  - Server, register our contract! – Hell yeah, I was right! A message popped up in my view:

  Attention! You are signing a contract.

  The terms and conditions are as follows:

  The agreement is being concluded between the replicant character "Volper", identification number of the neurointerface KM 3585761982 (hereinafter referred to as Volper), on the one hand, and the representative of the engineering department of the research center of the outpost No. 5-17-23, Gerion Carso, identification number of the neural interface AT 7435844891 (hereinafter referred to as Gerion Carso). Volper, for his part, will undertake to give Gerion Carso 2 sets of the following items - Ancient Rifle, Ancient Overalls, Ancient Goggles, similar to those that were given to Gerion Carso for 53,247 credits. Gerion Carso, on his part, will undertake to pay Volper 119,721 credits for each set consisting of an “Ancient Rifle", "Ancient overalls", and "Ancient Goggles". Also, after studying these items, Gerion Carso will undertake to provide Volper with all the necessary information on these subjects, about their use and maintenance. In the event of Gerion Carso producing the abovementioned items, he will pay Volper three percent of the net profits from the sales of these items.

  Do you want to sign the contract?

  Yes/No

  I enjoyed watching the emotions play out on the engineer’s face – he had on an expression that said he wasn’t very happy about this agreement. It's a pity if he doesn’t sign the agreement right now, but at least then I shouldn’t worry about him trying to deceive me.

  - "Yes, I’m signing the contract," he said, to my surprise.

  - “Yes, I’m signing the contract.” - I also accepted the terms and conditions.

  Congratulations on the successful conclusion of the contract!

  Attention! You can access the "Quests" tab, which displays the tasks, quests and obligations you have undertaken, according to the contracts.

  Attention! You now have the Trade skill.

  -I didn’t even think the replicants were already aware of this feature of the neural interface, - Gerion said, through clenched teeth. -I'm sorry, but I have a lot of work to do now, we'll talk later. -

  Turning his back to me, he went over to a group of people who were discussing something. It was clear that he didn’t like that I’d legitimized our contract through the system, that he’d somehow planned to cheat or trick me into losing out on my money. Okay, I’d figure it out later, now I needed to get some medical treatment, and then I would deal with the problems that have popped up. With these thoughts going through my head, I went to the research institute again, hoping to get rid of my injuries there. As I was entering the building, I glanced over my shoulder and noticed the engineer watching me. I feel it in my bum, this isn’t going to lead to anything good ... Quickly agreeing on which medical services I needed and paying for the treatment, I went in, and, three hours later, I was fresh as a daisy and kept pestering the girls behind the counter.

  - Girls, I beg your pardon, don’t reject a young and attractive man! – Yeah, I enjoy puzzling girls sometimes. They have these very pretty expressions on their faces when they’re trying to figure out what a male stranger wants from them. – Tell me, dear beauties, what on earth can I give to a beautiful lady in here as a present, and not fear being refused immediately due to angering my dearest creature? -

  Yes, I'm an asshole, and yeah, I’d practiced these phrases before leaving the building, but the desires effect was achieved. One girl giggled softly into her hand, and the second one said, smiling:

  - Well, if she’s from here, you’d better give her sweets. Nothing else that can be found here, in our outpost, is close to good enough.

  - Thank you, beautiful goddess, for endowing such a close-minded and dumb person like me with your wisdom. I promise that, if your advice proves useful, as a show of gratitude for your invaluable help, you will receive an equally pleasant gift.

  Bowing and scraping, I turned away and headed for the exit, listening with pleasure to the laughter and rustling behind my back. So what? It's a piece of cake for me to please a young angel, and it's nice for them as well, because it's a damn good thing to feel young, healthy and attractive. Leaving the hall of the building, my smile immediately disappeared from my face. There are too many worrying aspects to this game, and my modest intellect isn’t enough for a full analysis of the situation. Of course, there’s the option of using one of the reserve plans, but that’ll also impose a number of obligations on me, and I do not want to have any unnecessary problems.

  And so, here’s what I need to do. First: I should get sweets and go to Lita, to get explanations for a number of my questions. Second: I should deal with the issue of my equipment and go get the second batch of ancient items. Third: I should secure my own, safe route for returning to the outpost, since I don’t like how suspicious Gerion looked after the conclusion of our agreement. Fourth: I should find a trainer for different types of skills in order to get them to the next level.

  Of course, it was worthwhile to have finding a trainer as the first item on my agenda, but I was afraid that if I stayed away for a long time, someone else would find the hiding place. And the fifth, final point: I should organize all the information I’ve received, and plan my further development based on it, since the limits imposed on the growth of my skills was why I’d had to return much earlier.

  Having decided which tasks I should fulfill, I proceeded to move on to doing them, combining the pleasant moments in life with the useful ones. I quickly went to my room and took out all the equipment there, and then I went to the store with that pile of junk. Selling everything I could, while other rags were dropped off into the recycler, I bought casual clothes of a good cut and a plastic box of all kinds of sweets – which weighed about a kilogram. Then I went to Litara’s office. I barely even managed to find Lita's office, the ma
p saved me. I put on my most charming smile, opened the box of sweets and knocked on the door, and then stepped into the room, since they were open.

  - Mademoiselle ... Oh, hmm ... Uh ... And where is Lita? - I stared at a 40-something man.

  - Litara got a transfer to another place yesterday, - the man told me.

  - Could you tell me where she was transferred to?

  - I don’t know, but they say it's on the sixth level, he replied.

  - I see, sorry for interrupting.

  Leaving the room, I began to look for where I could throw away this box of sweets, which had cost me three thousand credits. But my inner tight-fisted nature didn’t allow me to throw away this terribly expensive present, which had been difficult to get, by the way. Hesitating for a moment, I decided to give the tasty present to the girls at the research center. Returning to my room, I got into my capsule.