Eli knew he only got away with his expenses being under budget because the basic hardware framework of both versions of the MarkVIII were similar. He'd been very relieved.
He was prepared to print the padding and cloth too, of course, but that would have increased his overhead by a factor of ten and printed textiles never felt as good as the natural fabrics.
Being of the same style, that meant he only had to print out the hardframe sections of the premium headset, then just slot in the internals and accessories of the regular one.
Jori partnering with him was also an unexpected stroke of luck. Mostly because buying a batch of premium RFID codes from the darknet would probably…he didn't know how to do that. And he knew nobody who knew how to do that without compromising safety.
He'd rather avoid jail, thanks. The less people involved with this, the better.
It allowed Eli to get on with the printing and packaging while Jori and his uncle did the selling.
Selling the whole operation to Jori's uncle was an easy decision. He'd sold Jori's Uncle Teref the synthprinter for less than he could have gotten on the online market, but he also bought the old man's silence.
In any case, he'd made it out of the venture without Zee or Marai knowing about it.
He wasn't sure how they would react to exactly how much he'd changed. Even in his darkest days, before, he'd been generally law-abiding.
He'd told Jori that his change was the result of a wish granted by a thousand shooting stars. He almost didn't remember them, the cascade that had lit the sky on the night before the interview with HI, the night before he woke up back in time.
If he wished again on those shooting stars, will it come true?
He thought about all that had happened before he'd been given this second chance, and firmly decided not to do any wishing anytime soon.
This one chance. This one wish. He'd earned it, hadn't he? Suffered for it, died for it. Died twice, even.
This second chance – or was it the third? – he wanted to see how far he could take it.
His blood pounded in anticipation. Or was it fear?
A hand slapped onto his shoulder.
He blinked, torn away from his thoughts. Jori was looking at him.
In the last weeks of their partnership, Jori had been unexpectedly present, helping with everything, dragging him upstairs to eat or take a break, forcing him to increase his exercise schedule.
Were they friends now? Whoa.
That was unexpected.
But the disdain that had always tinged the other man's interactions with him was slowly disappearing. He didn't really care what Zee's friends thought about him overall, but it was a bit gratifying even so.
"Is this part of the new you? Spacing out like an idiot instead of brooding in out of the way corners like a creep?"
Eli blinked. "New me? I've always been me. Nice to know what you think about me, by the way."
Jori ignored the sarcasm. "I don't know what happened, and I'm not going to ask if you don't want me to. But you're better like this, more confident. It's good."
I helped lead an uprising against the armed group of mercenaries who were exploiting us, Eli thought. And we won our freedom with our own hands.
Something like that, it would be seriously uplifting.
He couldn't say that though, so he smiled wryly instead. "Better to be an idiot than a harmless lurking creep?"
"Harmless? Former you was irritatingly depressing. You were harming my inner balance."
Former him? Eli was silent for a second while he thought about that. Over seven years in Zushkenar would have changed him, of course. But Jori was talking like they were two different people. Not a bad description; was he too different that he was suspicious?
He looked at Jori. "Should I brood a little more then? Creep around corners, avoid the light?"
Jori's smirk softened unexpectedly and Eli realized, to his horror, that the younger man thought he was being insecure and looking for reassurance. "What are you talking about? I said you're better like this, right? If everyone could change this much because of a cold, I'll deliberately start an epidemic as the great philanthropic project of my life."
Then, as if embarrassed, the other huffed. His eyes sharpened. "So, about this defrauding I watched happen before me."
"You know words like philanthropic?" He mostly remembered Jori as the typical streetganger and was only finding out how much of that was deliberate.
"Ah, I'm so hurt. Being a good citizen in this world, is being a learned citizen in this world, my friend. Easier to rebel against the authorities if you know the laws they're limited by."
"The same laws we're all limited by, right?" Eli offered half-heartedly.
Jori smirked at him, then silently waved an arm at the empty headsets arrayed like bodiless sentinels on the basement tables. "I am relieved you are saying that. Why, for one minute, I thought you were a criminal!"
Eli sighed internally at the unsubtle teasing. "Never doing the defrauding again. Probably."
"Good answer. Never say never."
"I could've rented a space elsewhere, you know?"
"Who else would give you my rates? That's not what I meant. I am always gratified when my friends come to me with their forays into the shadowy mysteries of crime."
Eli laughed.
Jori watched him, pleased.
"Because then you'll have blackmail," Eli accused.
"You know me so well."
"If you blackmail me, I now know people who can kick your ass." Working out of Nana's basement was unexpectedly educational. He'd even found someone to teach him how to shoot an archaic revolver.
One month, with nothing to do but work and think, Eli had his Redlands avatar more or less fleshed out. It had been…weirdly uncomfortable, knowing that in a year, he would change again so fundamentally that even his genes might not stay the same.
On the other hand, he'd already decided to change everything, right? So putting together something, controlling what he would become, consenting to the changes as they happened, it was strangely therapeutic.
Jori snorted and his lips quirked up. "With a weak body like that, of course you outsource your asskicking."
"Hey, I've been getting better!" A month of exercise had given him a better body. A better body meant a better time in Redlands.
Jori studied him again, like he had over the last two weeks. "You have. You're not taking stims are you? Because those are a bitch to kick."
"No! Do I look drugged?" Eli laughed. "You play with Zee and the others right?"
"I do, actually." Jori lifted a brow. "Want to go on a raid with us?"
"No thanks."
"You have to be a gamer, to survive Redlands."
Eli wondered why the other was so insistent about joining them. Players don't get to make a guild unless they were at least Lvl 30, and what could Eli contribute as someone who had not even taken the beginner quests? "I have motivation enough to survive."
He'd never considered himself a gamer. It had only been a game to him for one week before it got horribly real. Even now, after reading so many articles on Redlands game mechanics, he was struggling to think of it as a game.
"Besides," he continued, rolling the lie out blithely. "I'm not very fond of violence. You're a war clan."
"Every guild is a war clan."
Eli hid a smile at how exasperated the other sounded.
*
Eli went from Nana's place immediately to the loan office.
He still had one day before the interest came due, and the white-haired old man blinked when he said he was there to repay everything plus interest.
Hehe, old man.
"Eli."
Coming out smiling after his business with the scary loanshark was finished, he jumped at the flat voice saying his name.
Turning to see Marai and Zee looking at him, he paled a little. "Hey. I think I was working too hard, haven't seen you two in so long?"
"You look better," Marai approved grudgingly, not commenting on the amount of times he'd run away from her over the month. "The work did you good."
"Oh, it was a contract. I just finished, so really, unemployed again." Eli's fingers drummed on his thigh. He glanced at Zee, who was looking at him uncertainly. "How was your first month at HI?"
Zee gave a small smile. "Better than expected."
"Right? I saw a review of their cafeteria. Free chocolate truffles, really?"
Zee's smile widened incrementally. "No, but the apple strudel and the coconut pie are so good there's legally no repercussions for killing a coworker over the last piece."
Marai groaned feelingly. "Don't remind me."
"I hope you got the recipe." Eli wondered if there was a way to port Earth cookbooks into Redlands. There should be, right? So many people had sighed about the apparently subpar level of cookery in Zushkenar.
"Trade secret," Zee sighed wistfully.
"Oh, too bad? Well, I have to go home, things to do, stuff to get ready." Eli started to back away.
"It's not a strudel or anything," Zee cut him off. "but I'm hungry and willing to buy you both a Tyrannitar."
"Sold. We'll split a Godforsaken." Marai grabbed their arms and pulled them toward the Hazelnutsward bistro.
A Godforsaken was burger containing two and a half kilograms of smoked ground beef patty plus another kilogram of sides, a half kilogram of melty cheese, and seven different kinds of sauce. The bread buns were maybe another half-kilogram in weight, light and soft with crispy outer shell.
It was a popular food challenge in the city.
More just liked to share because it was the only burger in the bistro that had porkbelly charsiu stuffing inside the beef patty. It also came with unlimited cold cider and hot bone broth.
The nerve-wracking thing was that the whole two hours they were eating, Zee and Marai didn't start the interrogation that Eli expected them to – they just stared from time to time, which he ignored, and talked about inconsequential things.
The Godforsaken was delicious, and needed full focus. It came on a metal pan that could be reheated over a portable grill, so the deliciousness never cooled down.
It was only when they were saying goodbye that Zee asked, with an aborted gesture to the loanshark office. "You…worked there?"
"No. But my business there is done." The contract Eli signed had strict privacy clauses and all the evidence that he was there, apart from the public security videos, was trashed.
"You know you could always ask us if there was anything you needed, right?"
"I know. Don't worry."
The two looked satisfied at the short answer, and didn't pry further. Eli was confused by that, considering they'd all but stalked him for the last month.
Maybe he just needed to show his face?
Wait, was it the fact that he ran away that made them more determined to catch him?
Eli watched them walk down the street, hand lifted in a frozen wave.
No way, right?
What were they, wolves? Some other predator that had instincts to chase when their prey ran?
Deciding not to think about it any longer, he went directly home.
Ordering the Lazybones headset from the Redlands site was the effort of a minute. With the haul from the last month better than expected, he could buy the MarkIX version of the headgear, which cost him 8000 ecru.
The notification said it would be delivered tomorrow.
The bio-cradle was giving him more trouble.
His first choice, an almost-new auctioned item from a seller in the city, was bought outright by someone else, to his irritation.
The cheaper Redlands-themed bio-cradles didn't have the muscle massage function, which was the one thing he decided was non-negotiable.
The other almost-new options on the shopping site were all slightly off. He finally went to the BaggaInstruments website and bought one new.
BaggaInstruments constantly churned out the best-reviewed bio-cradles, so Eli was fairly confident about his choice.
The month's labors had netted him 28,300 ecru, which was a very satisfying number.
Of that, he spent 22,500 ecru on the gaming rig.
He pushed down the part of him that was cringing at the exorbitant price.
If he was to reach his goals, this was only basics.
That done, he stowed his phone and stalked to his bedroom, intending to nap the food coma away.
He paused at the second bedroom in the apartment. He hadn't entered since he'd time-travelled a month ago.
The last time, he'd kept his mother's room pristine until the world ended.
He unlocked the door.
A scent of faint flowers wafted about him as he opened the door. He closed his eyes and remembered.
The room was dusty, not having been cleaned for a month. But it was exactly as he left it.
He stood at the doorway for a long while, before he started dusting off and packing up his mother's things. He kept the electronic frames that held family photos, boxed up everything that he could bear to give away, then sat down on the bed.
The room was emptier, colder, but it still had that scent. It looked lighter.
Hours later, even the boxes were gone, sent to people who could use them. Some of her things he individually wrapped with carefully written notes; his mother had friends who would be happy to keep her mementos.
Then he went to his bedroom and dropped onto the bed.
He slept as the sun lowered in the sky and didn't wake until morning, the exhaustion of it all taking a toll.