Chapter 6: Illegal Alien (4)
"I've got a job for you."
Kael had come to sell a device.
At most, he'd expected a bowl of cheap synth-gruel for dinner—and if luck was on his side, a place to lie down for the night.
Yet suddenly, an offer came in.
More accurately, the merchant was trying to rope Kael into a job.
Kael looked at him for a moment.
The old man with a magnifying lens over one eye had grease ingrained deep into his hands.
Discarded circuits and scrap metal were scattered across the stall.
Meanwhile, the merchant’s gaze hadn't left Kael's fingertips for a while.
He was not looking at the item; he was looking at Kael.
"A job?"
Kael asked.
"I only came here to sell an item."
"I know."
The merchant tapped the device with his finger.
"But your hands look more valuable than the item."
It was blunt.
Kael liked his attitude.
A man who wore his greed out in the open was always easier to handle than someone hiding his motives.
Kael pushed the item toward him.
"Then pay for this first."
The old man's eyebrows twitched.
"I just said I had a job for you."
"You brought it up, not me."
Kael pointed to the device on the stall.
"I came to sell this, so let's handle one deal at a time."
There was a moment of silence.
The old man glared at him, but Kael didn't care.
Kael was hungry and thirsty.
His body had not yet recovered, and he had not slept properly.
But those circumstances would only give the old man an excuse to lowball him—not something he would ever reveal first.
The second you showed weakness in a negotiation, the other side would exploit it.
He knew at least that much.
The old man burst into laughter.
"Not bad for a kid who just fell into the underground."
"I just want to live a long life."
"Your mouth is pretty dangerous for a guy who wants to live long."
"That is for me to judge."
Kael reached out his hand a bit further.
"The price?"
The merchant clicked his tongue and pulled a few old metal chips from under the counter.
"Five credits."
"Twenty."
"Are you crazy?"
"You just said I brought a dead circuit back to life."
"So?"
"Then it is no longer junk."
The smile froze on the merchant's face.
He looked down at the device.
He feigned hesitation, but his mind was already made up.
Buying it was just an excuse to hold onto Kael.
Which meant Kael had no reason to rush.
"Ten," said the old man.
"Eighteen."
"Twelve."
"Twenty."
The old man's eye narrowed.
"You are raising the price?"
"Because you tried to lower it."
"This damn brat."
"If you are not buying, give it back."
Kael reached out to grab the device.
At that moment, the merchant slowly pulled the device toward himself.
It was a deliberate move—showing he didn't want to stop Kael outright, but couldn't bring himself to let it go either.
Kael froze.
Just as he expected, the old man had no intention of parting with it.
"Fifteen."
The stall owner spoke as if grinding his teeth.
"And a bowl of gruel."
Kael thought for a moment.
Fifteen credits was not bad.
With a meal, it meant he would not starve that night.
However, he did not nod right away.
He needed to push a bit more.
"Two bowls."
"Did a transport pipe crush your conscience?"
"It's still alive. That is why I need two bowls."
The old man glared at him.
Kael quietly returned his gaze.
A few seconds later, the merchant looked away first.
"Fine. Two bowls."
He threw the metal chips onto the stall.
"Are you satisfied now?"
Kael counted the chips.
Fifteen credits.
They didn't look fake.
He tucked the metal chips into his coat.
"Now we can talk about the job."
The old man laughed in disbelief.
"Thanks for giving permission."
"Don't mention it."
"I really hate your tone, kid."
"I'll consider fixing it if the terms are good enough."
"Guess you'll never fix it, then."
The old man leaned back in his chair.
The slick merchant look faded slightly from his face.
"Down here on LL-19, junk is cash. A lot of the magitech devices coming down from above are broken. Most get stripped down for parts, but every so often, you find something whose value skyrockets if you just fix it."
"So you sort them and fix them?"
"I did until now."
The stall owner tapped his magnifying lens.
"But I've only got one good eye, and my hands are old. Plus, tech these days is getting ridiculously complex."
"And?"
"You inspect the circuits. I source the items and find buyers."
"The split?"
The merchant's eye glinted and his face signaled that they were finally at the main point.
"I provide the space, trade connections, protection fees, and information costs. You provide the hands. Eighty-twenty split."
Kael nodded.
"Got it. So you take twenty."
Hearing that, the old man's face hardened.
"Are you joking, kiddo?"
"Did it sound like a joke?"
"This is my spot. My trade connections. I know how to sell the stuff you fix."
"And the one bringing the items back to life is me. I just revived an item you couldn't fix."
"That was once."
"Which is why it costs more."
Silence filled the room once again.
Kael continued, pointing to the device lying on the stall.
"You just want to confirm if it was a fluke."
The old man's pupil wavered.
Bingo.
It wasn't about hiring Kael—it was about testing him.
In that case, I'm the one calling the shots.
"Sixty-forty. Of course, sixty for me."
"Crazy bastard."
"Then the deal is off."
Kael turned to leave.
Bam!
The merchant slammed his palm on the table.
"Wait!"
Kael stopped, though he didn't turn around.
The merchant spoke quietly.
"Fifty-fifty."
"No. Sixty for me."
"You have no spot, no status, and no trade connections."
"And that is why I need you."
Kael turned around slowly.
"But you need me too, don't you?"
The old man gritted his teeth.
"You're asking for sixty percent on a pair of unproven hands?"
"Then I'll just have to prove it."
"What?"
"Bring me three items tonight. Ones you couldn't fix. If I save even one, it's sixty-forty."
Kael paused briefly before adding.
"If I save all three, seventy-thirty."
The old man said nothing for a while.
Then, he finally laughed.
"You really haven't been down in the underground long, have you?"
"?"
"A guy who acts that gutsy down here is either completely ignorant or actually has the skill to back it up."
"Which do you think I am?"
"That's why I want us to work together—to see which one you are."
The merchant rummaged under the stall and pulled out a worn cloth pouch.
From inside, he took out two dead circuit boards and a cracked magitech lamp, setting them on the stall.
"Fine. Let's test."
"The terms?"
"Save one, fifty-fifty. Save two, you get sixty. Save all three, you get seventy."
"Pay upfront."
"What?"
Kael held out his hand.
"I need tools. Insulated gloves, thin metal needles, a circuit scraper, and food."
The old man let out a dry laugh.
"Why don't you ask me to build you an entire workshop while you're at it?"
"That would be nice if possible, too."
"Crazy brat."
Even as he said that, he rummaged under the stall.
A short while later, a pair of old cloth gloves, a few metal needles with worn tips, and a small scraper were thrown in front of Kael.
Along with a hard piece of bread wrapped in wax paper.
Kael picked up the bread first.
The merchant raised an eyebrow.
"Food before work?"
"If I starve, my hand slips."
"Fair enough."
Kael took a bite of the bread.
The taste was awful.
It was hard, soggy, and smelled somewhat like iron filings.
But it was edible.
That was enough for him.
He tucked the remaining bread into his coat and looked at the discarded circuit board on the stall.
"Let's begin."
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