Chapter 29: Lubing it up

Chapter 29: Lubing it up

“Uh, excuse me, Sir,” I said, trying to get Mr. MaxCorp’s attention.

That wasn’t his actual name but then again I didn’t know what it was.

Sherman Maxwell

Class: Marketeer

Level: 61

Age: 44

Weight: 187 Lbs

Height 5’4

Wasn’t that a normal class? Did Marketers have magic powers to convince people to buy things? Oh wait, his class was Marketeer. Perhaps there was a difference with the extra ‘e’. I also noticed his last name.

“Excuse me, Mr. Maxwell,” I tried again. “Do you own MaxCorp?”

He shook with laughter but didn’t turn around right away. “That’s rich, Kid. Do you think I’d be manning the front desk if I owned the place? Honestly, those guys rarely show their faces around here. It’s just my job to keep the lights on. Er, not those lights.”

He finally rounded on me. “What exactly did you need??”

I swallowed hard under the weight of his glare. “Nothing…it’s just that I can fix your luminary if you like.”

“It’s not broken,” he grumbled, turning back to a newspaper on the counter behind him. “It’s just out of-”

“Lubricant?” I offered.

That got his attention. “Do you have some? I was told the guild wouldn’t have any until next week, and even then at a premium. Confounded new technology.”

“I don’t have Thametrazine,” I explained. “But I think I have something that will work.”

“A knockoff, eh?” He replied with a frown. “I hope you don’t expect me to pay a premium for it. I don’t care how badly we need it. An imitation is still a poor substitute.”

“I don’t expect…” he cut me off again.

“Twenty silver! That is all I’ll pay. I don’t care if it’s made of liquid gold. If it’s not Thematrezine, you don’t get the normal rate.”

My eyes bulged when I heard his offer. I’d just exchanged ten copper for five dollars. If one hundred copper equaled a silver, that meant Mr. Maxwell was offering me one thousand dollars. That was enough to fund the orphanage for a long time. Either that or give me some seriously needed capital for the auction. Money was everything as my father used to say.

Mr. Maxwell must have thought I was outraged by the offer because he threw his hands up in the air. “I’ll tell you what, if what you’re shilling turns out to be good, I’ll see what I can do going forward. Don’t get your hopes up. The most I can offer is a gold a month but only if your product lasts that long.”

That was even more money! Maybe Mr. Maxwell wasn’t such a jerk after all. “Okay, I’ll do it. Can you please point me to the restroom?”

He looked stunned that I’d take a potty break right in the middle of a business transaction. “Uh, sure, kid. Right over there. Try not to make a mess.”

I followed his directions to a door to the side of the lobby. Once inside, I locked the door and rummaged through my bag for some supplies. I found a glass jar I’d gotten from Mishun to collect Slime ooze in and filled it with water. Then I looked around for some soap.

The bathroom was fancier than anything I’d seen before. A fancy soap dispenser was set into the mirror and squirted a dollop of soap into my hand every time I pushed a button. I filled the jar with water and squirted some soap onto my finger. From there I set to work finger painting a rather complex Arcane Circle.

I’m going to have to talk to Miss Spencer about getting some of those pens with the disappearing ink.

Working with soap was becoming second nature. It took me a good ten minutes but I made a somewhat perfect Arcane Circle in between the two sinks. Then I set the jar of water in the middle and offered up my mana to activate the ritual.

The circle evaporated as usual, leaving behind a jar of glowing blue liquid. One thing that surprised me was it had the same texture as water. I’d expected mana to be some kind of oil.

You have gained 300 experience points.

Mr. Maxwell’s expression darkened when I returned from the bathroom. “Did you just dole out twenty silver’s worth from your supply?”

I looked down at the full bottle I’d just created. “No, Sir. That’s all I got.”

He took the jar from me and held it up to the light. It was surprisingly translucent. “Are you sure that’ll work?”

I gave it a once over to make sure I got it right.

Liquid Mana

Ingredients: Mana, Water

Owned by: Evans

Rank: C

Condition: 100

I nodded. “This is C rank lubricant. It’ll work.”

Analysis hadn’t given me a reason to doubt it and I really wanted that twenty silver. Mr. Maxwell looked at me skeptically for a few moments before walking over to the luminary in the room.

“If this damages our Luminary, I’m personally holding you liable for the twenty gold it will cost to replace it” He barked as he opened a panel revealing an opening. “And next time, you’d better bring a funnel.”

I stood back and watched quietly as he did his best not to spill any as he poured liquid mana down the hole. It didn’t take much, perhaps a quarter of the jar to fill the luminary.

We exchanged a loaded look before he closed the hatch and pushed the big red button on top. I held my breath as the light flickered the same way it did when it went out.

Luminary

Grade: C

Condition: 83

Created by: MaxCorp

I let out a sigh of relief when the lights stabilized and came on. Mr. Maxwell took out a handful of silver coins and held them out to me. “That’s good enough, I suppose. Check back in a month and I’ll let you know if we decide to use your services again. Also, you’d do well to package that properly if you plan on selling it.”

“Yes, Sir,” I announced, overwhelmed by the small fortune placed in my hands. Then I remembered he still owed me. “Um, sir. There’s also the ten copper for the package.”

It wasn’t a lot compared to the twenty silver, but every copper added up. That was five dollars. He scoffed and took out a handful of copper, dumping it in my hand without counting. I thanked him and made a hasty retreat before counting it.

“I knew it!” I exclaimed as I counted the money a few blocks down the road. “He gave me thirteen copper!”

Of course, it was probably chump change to him but to me, that was an extra buck fifty, a downright fortune to a thirteen-year-old. My next stop was the Tinkerer’s Guild. While the Brooklyn one had been at the guild hall, the Manhattan branch was located in the financial district in yet another high-rise at 22 Cortland Street.

I approached the building and noticed nearly everyone was wearing fancy suits and hats, making me feel very out of place. The first thing I looked for when I walked in was the customary man in a bathrobe. Finding no one that met the description, I made my way to the elevator. What floor did the receptionist tell me the guild was located on? The one thing I remembered was the top floor.

As usual, there was an attendant in the elevator. “Which floor, Son?”

“Top floor, please,” I said, holding my chin up and trying to act like I belonged even though my clothes suggested otherwise.”

“Do you have business with Shuster and Floring?” The attendant asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, Sir,” I replied. “I’m here to talk to someone at the Tinkerer’s Guild.”

“You’ll need to present your guild ID,” he replied, holding out a hand.

“Oh, right,” I said, my face burning at forgetting such simple etiquette. “Here it is.”

Adventurer’s Guild

Rank F License

Guild Fame: 0

Next Rank: 1,000

Name: Oliver Evans

Class: Craftsman

Level: 2

Crafting Association: Registered

Crafting Guild: Undrafted

I chuckled at how outdated the information was. He accepted it and looked at me over the top of it. “Craftsman, huh? Interesting. Are you a new draftee?”

“Something like that,” I replied, not wanting to give away too much information. “That’s what I’m here to talk about.”

“If you’re here to talk then you don’t want the top floor,” the man announced, pushing a combination of buttons. “Administration is on the thirty-first floor.”

He handed back my ID and we waited in silence.

The elevator arrived with a ding and he bowed me from the elevator. “Have a good day, Sir.”

I noticed that he called me sir after seeing my ID. That was something. Ten feet from the elevator was a closed door guarded by an old lady at a reception desk.

She glanced up at me over thick square glasses. “Do you have an appointment?”

I shook my head. “I met a woman in Mr. Chrysler’s office who offered me a deal to learn here, and I wanted to talk to her some more about it.”

“ID please,” she said, holding out a hand.

I showed it to her and she adjusted her glasses as she went over it. “You’re level two and you already have an offer? Peculiar. Who did you say you talked to again?”

I sighed. “I didn’t get her name. I think she was important though. Mr. Penderblast was there. Do you know him?”

“Everybody knows him,” the old lady stated flatly. “He’s the most accomplished Tinkerer on this side of the world. Please wait here while I confirm what you’ve said.”

She left with my ID and closed the doors behind her, leaving me in an empty hall with just her desk and an elevator. There wasn’t even a place for me to sit.

I paced around nervously as I debated what to do. I couldn’t leave since she had my ID, and I hadn’t brought anything to do while I waited. If only there was a restroom, then I could make some more Liquid Mana. That stuff could be worth a whole gold if Mr. Maxwell got it approved. I wondered if it had any other uses.

Info: Liquid Mana has multiple uses.

Trying to get Analyze to give me ideas of what it could be used for specifically was a failure. Apparently, the skill only presented solutions to things I could see or things I was trying to do. Trying to find something useful to do seemed to be beyond the skill’s purview.

There was a place I could go to do research. The Library. Lavender gave me access to the special section for specifically that reason. I just hadn’t thought about it.

Before I had a chance to dwell on it any further, the old lady returned. “Madam Hurst will see you now.”

Behind her was the woman with the top hat and spectacle. She smiled and beckoned me to follow her. “I had a feeling I’d be seeing you again. Come this way.”

We marched through rows of cubicles manned by some of the most bizarrely dressed people I’d ever seen. One man wore a bright pink bathrobe with pockets going all the way down to his ankles. Another wore a trench coat with an upturned collar that completely covered his face.

Madam Hurst walked through an open door of a large corner office. The view out of the window was breathtaking. I’d only been up high in a few buildings and rarely had such a great view overlooking the streets below. It made my fifth-story rooftop back at the orphanage feel like a single-story building.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Evans?”