Ah'Ming wandered around aimlessly for a little while, mostly because he wasn't sure what to do. Yes, he'd had a great meal, but what now?
Finding more clues was a priority.
It wasn't as though he could keep grilling the same exact people, or NPCs, for clues, because then they'd get suspicious. Maybe Ah'Ming could go to a bar or pub? He hadn't been legally able to go in the past, but all the movies he'd watched had been of spies just listening in on the secrets of drunk enemy agents.
Another restaurant?
But Ah'Ming was sated. He wasn't physically full, but he already had the happiness that you get from eating just enough of what you liked.
A dessert store would hit the spot, but Ah'Ming really didn't want to go to one for two reasons: 1) He was still traumatised from the disgusting rewards of the Egg tart instance. He didn't have anything against eating humans, but they just looked disgusting. They were grey!
2) People at fancy bakeries and dessert stores are probably less likely to have loose lips?
He wasn't really sure about that, but it seemed right.
The pub was....
Until Ah'Ming saw the shopping district.
There were shops upon shops, with colors everywhere. From clothing stores (both formal, casual, western and oriental) to even technology and supermarkets.
To be fair, Ah'Ming would have been a responsible dealer. Except for the fact that he now had money....
he checked his balance again, and noticed that he still had a few thousand left. Each substory had brought around three to five hundred dollars alone, plus the donations of the viewers. Turns out, they actually did give good tips.
That wasn't even including the points!
Ah'Ming paused. He asked the system "Can I exchange dollars and points?"
A blue panel shimmered into existence
|Exchange rate
|1 Point to $100
Ah'Ming paused.
How much?!
Damn, all players were loaded then! Oof, the poor NPCs. Imagine working that hard for like a fifth of the points or dollars that players earned. The system panel, sensing his confusion, popped up with an explanation.
|NPCs are paid less due to the lack of risk compared to the more volatile professions of players.
"But... what about those stories of the NPCs disappearing on the job?" He questioned.
The system paused, almost as if it was considering how to answer.
|There are different levels of risks. Higher danger jobs bring more benefits. When workplace incidents occur, survivors are rewarded with bonuses.
"Oh! Wait, is it graded like player missions too?" Ah'Ming could kind of understand now. He was still walking, nearly at the phone store.
|NPCs can work for system-issued tasks, or NPC posted tasks. All tasks are graded by the system to determine difficulty.
He nodded, and then thanked the system before closing it.
In the phone shop, it was pretty dusty. It was old, and the boxes that likely contained phones were stacked a mile high in the shop.
That felt like a bad sign. Technology was meant to be new, and advanced right? A dusty room didn't seem very futuristic.
Ah'Ming turned around, and was prepared to leave. A loud crashing sound rang from the back of the shop.
"WAIT, WAit Don't leave!" A high pitched voice squeaked out. Ah'Ming turned to look, and saw a short... person? Rat person? with bright pink hair. She (he was assuming the rat person was a she) was wearing mechanic overalls, and then patted her pockets down.
She beamed at him.
"Hi! I'm Aliya, I own this place, do you need a rocket launcher?" She had a massive toothy grin, big front teeth.
Ah'Ming raised up a finger, about to decline, but then realised.... A rocket launcher would be pretty cool, but the blast zone might be a bit big. A flame thrower would be better, especially if it could come with different types of fuel. Maybe one that launched flaming oil too, so the fire didn't go out fast....
He blinked back into existence, and saw rat person scribbling everything down. Oops, he'd said it outloud. A system panel popped up next to him.
|Reckless actions are discouraged, unless Broadcaster is attempting to draw in a certain demographic audience.
Ah'Ming shushed the panel and pushed it away.
The two of them, bug and rat, spent a while talking about how to fully design a flamethrower that could have green fire (that wasn't ghost fire, since ghost fire was cold). He'd chosen the color because it matched with his hair. Rat person pulled over a chalkboard, and then started scribbling mechanics.
|RECKLESS ACTION IS STRONGLY DISCOURAGED. FLAMETHROWER USE COUNTS AS RECKLESS ACTI-
Ah'Ming shushed it again.
He'd left the shop, pocket about four grand lighter and a promise that the items would be sent to his inventory upon completion.
He'd ended up getting two wristguards that would expand, terminator style, to have flamethrowers. The left one also could expand into a dagger, while the right one had a built-in holo-screen that had all the functions of a phone.
They'd probably arrive by the last day of the main story, Aliya had said.
He'd shrugged.
Ah'Ming also spent another hour or two buying random articles of clothing. Turns out, if he bought a suitcase and shoved it full of clothes, it only counted as a single item. He got a lot of shirts, pants and everything else.
He also bought a ton of food. Staples, like grains (rice, wheat, beans), potatoes, dried food, uncooked noodles. Packaged food like instant noodles, and jerky/meats and snacks.
Ah'Ming had definitely learned his lesson from the poetry substory. Staple food in his inventory was a must.
the Pub that he'd gone to he hadn't stuck around for. Nobody talked about anything relating to the main story, and the drinks tasted horrible. Ah'Ming couldn't tell if it was the drinks that tasted bad, or just alcohol in general.
The air was just as cold when he walked back to the hotel room. The system seemed miffed that he'd ignored it earlier, and was ignoring him completely.
"I'm sorry, okay?"
|Will broadcaster refund the flamethrower?
"No"
The system muted him.
Ah'Ming shrugged, and then went to his room and slept.