In the hardware store, I acted quickly and precisely. I had a clear list in my head, born from the Intellect Potion and online guides. PVC pipes of the required diameter for the crossbow and water gun, elastic bungee cord, compact pump, a couple of valves, nozzles. Parting with another hundred dollars was unpleasant. The wallet, which had pleasantly bulged in my pocket just yesterday, became depressingly thin again. A final balance of a hundred bucks couldn't help but make me nervous, making me feel vulnerable.
I mentally repeated the mantra: "Money is not a problem. I have a Miracle Box." But it's one thing to know, and quite another to feel. Okay, I have a clearly defined goal in front of me, and I must achieve it.
Let's start Crafting the PVC Crossbow. Crafting. This word now evoked something akin to awe in me. It's not just an assembly process, but an act of creation that the System itself recognizes and rewards. So, where does the transformation of a plumbing pipe into a weapon begin? With bending.
I took a 70 cm long piece of 25 mm diameter PVC pipe in my hands. Over the heated burner, the white plastic slowly began to give in. A characteristic acrid smell appeared, and the pipe became as pliable as clay. I carefully but confidently bent it into a perfect arc, measuring the bend about 25 centimeters from the center. For the next five minutes, I simply held it in this position, feeling the plastic cool and harden, forever remembering the new shape. The arc was ready.
Now the body. Everything was simpler here. The same pipe, but 50 cm long. I carefully made a slot at one end, a guide for the arrows. Then, using clamps, I attached a wooden block to the middle, a simple but comfortable handle. Then it was a matter of detail: connecting the arc to the body with screws, stretching an elastic and durable bungee cord over the arc. The bowstring snapped into place with a tight, promising click.
The final touch, the trigger mechanism. I cut a small lever-trigger from a wooden spoon and attached it to the body. A simple latch made of thick wire to hold the bowstring, connected to the lever, and it's ready. The crossbow lay in my hands, quite functional and formidable in appearance. But I didn't mentally put a full stop, and the System was silent. Of course. What is a weapon without ammunition?
Everything was much simpler with the arrow. An ordinary wooden dowel 30 cm long, sharpened at one end and with a notch for the bowstring at the other. I pulled the bowstring, inserted the improvised arrow into the guide. Now, definitely everything.
Just in case, I pointed the crossbow at one of the numerous cereal boxes and pulled the trigger. There was a sharp, cracking sound, and the arrow, whistling through the air, pierced the cardboard and plastic bag with a dull thud. There is penetration. And the System, fortunately, was of the same opinion.
[Created a simple weapon design "PVC Crossbow". Difficulty: Minimal. Received +50 OP!]
Great, +50 OP. By analogy with the Bulbthrower, I will receive 40 for the next crossbow, and then with a decrease. But before putting production on stream, it was necessary to test one hypothesis recorded during brainstorming under the Intellect Potion.
I took the newly assembled crossbow in my hands and began to methodically deconstruct my creation. Disassembling was easier than assembling. When a pile of components lay in front of me again, I replaced the wooden handle with another, almost identical block, and began assembling again. Five minutes, and the crossbow was ready again.
No notification. Silence. The theory was confirmed. You can't fool the System by constantly assembling and disassembling the same thing. It rewards the act of creation, for that very "Spark" that breathes new life into a set of components, turning them into something whole. The potential of the components within this creation has been exhausted. However, these same components can be used to create something else. Checked again on the wooden trigger, which I originally made from a spoon. Logically.
Okay, next on the list: PVC Water Gun. And, frankly, after the Bulbthrower, after the Marx Generator, and even after this simple crossbow, its creation felt like assembling a children's construction set. Only four steps: creating a reservoir from a thicker pipe, installing a valve, adding a nozzle, and connecting a pump. Filling the resulting contraption with water and opening the valve, I deliberately directed the stream at the wall of the bathroom. A powerful stream of water hit the tile, splashing everything around. Stupid, simple, and surprisingly fun. And most importantly, the System accepted this craft.
[Created a simple weapon design "PVC Water Gun". Difficulty: Minimal. Received +50 OP!]
I finished off the remaining 65 OP by making another crossbow and another water gun, receiving a total of 80 OP for them. A balance of 415 OP pleased the eye, and involuntarily I even thought about spinning the Gacha for 300 OP, but it was a fleeting, momentary desire that I easily ignored, mentally summoning the System and pouring OP into unlocking the Box of Magic Ore. The OP was immediately debited from the balance and without fanfare, notifications and the like, the box appeared in my Inventory. Fortunately, it did not disappear from the Technology Tab, although the price of the next box was now 500 OP. It will definitely come in handy in the future, but one is enough for now, I hope.
Looking around my studio, which in these days has become a center of seemingly unsystematic chaos and mess, I realized that implementing a 2x2x1 box here is not an option. Not even because space is tight; if necessary, I can organize such a patch of free space. The problem is the floors. The house is old, and it is difficult to imagine the weight of a box filled to the top with ores of different densities and, as a result, weight. I don't want to risk that the floor will collapse, even if it is an extremely small risk, which means you need to take a walk around the city in search of abandoned construction sites.
It was four in the afternoon. At this time, Hell's Kitchen lived its usual, noisy life, and the daylight made its streets relatively safe. I put on inconspicuous street clothes and went in search of a temporary lair. I needed an abandoned building, a place so unsightly that even the homeless would disdain it. There were plenty of places like this in the neighborhood, but I was looking for something special: secluded, with minimal through traffic, and far from prying eyes.
After half an hour of searching, winding through alleys that reeked of urine and rotting garbage, I found what I needed. A five-story, unfinished brick monstrosity with empty window sockets, standing on a small vacant lot. The walls were completely covered in ugly graffiti, and the ground around it was dug up and littered with construction debris. Perfect.
But even in a place like this, you couldn't let your guard down. I went into the nearest convenience store and bought a can of pepper spray for ten bucks. Small change, but it made me feel safer. Clutching the can in my pocket, I slipped inside the building.
Inside, it was dimly lit and smelled of damp concrete dust. Every step I took echoed loudly in the emptiness, making me jump. I moved cautiously, peering into each room until I found what I was looking for on the first floor: a small, windowless room with a single doorway, located deep inside the building. After making sure I was alone, I held my breath and materialized the Miracle Box from my Inventory.
It appeared silently, massive and foreign in this realm of ruin. The box was filled to the brim with rough, unrefined stones of all shapes and sizes. "Well, it really is packed," I muttered into the void, and my whisper seemed deafeningly loud. "And at first glance, the ore isn't the most valuable, just as I thought..."
I picked up a heavy, dark gray piece with a metallic sheen and placed it in my Inventory for analysis.