West glanced around briefly.
A few nearby gang members were pretending not to watch.
He reached into his pocket.
Of course, the item wasn’t actually in his pocket but he allowing it to appear in his grasp out of thin air wouldn’t be the smartest thing to do.
He pretended to retrieve something small and when his hand emerged, he placed it gently on the counter.
A Rotars Flork.
Its strange, organic-metallic structure shimmered faintly under the lights. Veins of dull green energy emitted from it in small waves like a living heartbeat.
The air around the counter changed and the woman’s eyes widened.
Even the bulky gang member nearby turned sharply.
"That..." she breathed.
West leaned back casually.
"Interested?"
The Rotars Flork wasn’t just junk.
It was used in crafting as an energy catalyst, so it happened to be really valuable and dangerous if mishandled.
Her professional mask slipped for a fraction of a second before snapping back into place.
"Please wait," she said before pressing a button beneath the counter.
Within seconds, two figures descended the staircase from above.
Unlike the others, these didn’t bother hiding their presence.
They were definitely awakened. They approached the counter slowly and one of them who had silver-rimmed glasses, picked up the Rotars Flork with gloved hands and examined it carefully.
He nodded once.
"Authentic."
The word rippled through the space and whispers broke out amongst a few gang members present.
After the Rotars Flork had been examined and confirmed authentic, the woman behind the counter adjusted her glasses and studied West more carefully.
The subtle change in her expression did not escape him.
She placed the Rotars Flork gently on a velvet-lined tray, scanning it with a handheld device that emitted faint blue beams across its surface. Data flickered across a small screen attached to her wrist.
"High purity," she murmured. "Energy veins intact. No structural fractures."
Her eyes lifted to him again.
"This piece could fetch anywhere between 150,000 to 200,000 dollars depending on the buyer and urgency of sale."
For a split second, West almost reacted.
’150k–200k?’
His heartbeat skipped.
Just a few weeks ago, he had been calculating whether he could afford an extra shopping spree. His entire savings sat at a pathetic three thousand dollars earned painfully from long shifts at Crème & Ash, where the scent of roasted coffee beans clung to his clothes long after he clocked out.
And now a single item from his system inventory could earn him more than fifty times that?
He kept his face steady.
"What if," he said casually, "I had a whole batch to sell?"
The woman blinked and then chuckled softly.
"I’d probably tell you to fuck off," she replied without missing a beat. "Because I’d assume you were playing around."
West didn’t laugh because he was completely serious.
He had more than a whole batch...
Much more.
But now that he understood the value of what he possessed, his mindset shifted instantly.
This wasn’t just pocket change... this was the kind of thing gangs killed for.
He leaned back slightly.
"Yeah," he said lightly. "I’m just playing."
She nodded knowingly.
"I thought so. You’re not affiliated with any gang. It’s already shocking enough that you have such a high-quality Rotars Flork in your possession."
Her eyes sharpened faintly.
"But if you happen to acquire more in the future, we would be very interested."
West gave a vague shrug.
"Maybe I’ll get lucky again."
She didn’t press further.
That, more than anything, told him this establishment was disciplined. Curious, yes. Greedy, probably. But they understood boundaries—at least within their walls.
She began processing the transaction.
"Name?"
"Jax Monroe," West replied smoothly.
He had prepared that.
She typed it in.
"Affiliation?"
"Independent."
"Identification?"
He produced a forged ID he’d arranged earlier through certain... online channels. It was good enough to pass surface-level scrutiny.
She scanned it... the system accepted it and there were no further questions.
A few signatures were required. He signed with the alias. A small contract flashed across the screen confirming the sale terms. He agreed.
"Private room," she said.
The two suited Awakened from earlier escorted them upstairs. The room was minimalistic but secure with soundproof walls, reinforced door, and a table with a built-in scanning unit.
The Rotars Flork was placed into a containment case.
The tall Awakened with silver-rimmed glasses rechecked it once more.
"Final offer," he said calmly. "One hundred seventy thousand."
Right in the middle of the range.
West nodded immediately.
"Deal."
The man tapped a few commands into a tablet.
"Transfer destination?"
West provided Jax’s bank details.
He would not allow the money to hit his real account. If they saw his legal name, cross-referenced data, or connected him to anything suspicious, that could become a problem.
Jax could forward it to him later... It was much safer that way.
A moment later, the Awakened looked up.
"Transfer complete."
West’s chest felt light.
170,000 dollars... just like that.
He had never seen that amount of money associated with his life before.
Three thousand in savings used to feel like a cushion but this was an entirely different level.
However, he didn’t allow excitement to show.
He leaned back calmly.
"Pleasure doing business."
The man nodded.
"If you acquire more... high-quality items, you have our contact."
A smooth business card was slid across the table.
West picked it up, not offering one in return.
After a few more formalities, he exited the building.
The cool evening air hit his face as he stepped outside.
The loitering gang members were still there but their gazes were different now as they assessed him.
He walked calmly with his hands in his pockets and posture relaxed.
Behind him, he could faintly sense movement.
Four footsteps syncing subtly which meant four individuals.
They kept a slight distance, but it was not enough to stay hidden from West’s senses.
West’s eyes remained forward.
’So they target fellows who are alone...’
It clicked.
This was why gangs moved in packs. Safety in numbers. If someone walked out solo after making a deal, they became easy prey.
And judging by the aura he could faintly sense that they were Awakened.