A little bit to the left, and then-
Click!
Two tiny components of a larger device, pulled together by the laws of magnetism, made a clicking sound, putting a smile on Messimah's face.
About a week had gone by since the day he and Trumm went to retrieve the things that were stolen from them.
As for the things that were stolen, they could be considered valuable, depending on whose hands they end up in.
For Messimah and his friends, it was something of great value as they were banking on using the items that they slaved and toiled around in the treacherous black market for.
However, by some unfortunate coincidence, the Crank Crew, Gaus's men, were also searching for the same thing.
But Messimah's team had beat them to it.
Tracking who the buyers were, Gaus's men schemed and ambushed the people who were transporting the items to their designated location.
When Messimah learned of this, he sought out the leader of the group he was part of—Jonah's crew.
They called themselves the Fixer Crew.
Like Gaus's Cranks, the Fixer Crew was a mercenary organization, but with a different focus.
They specialized in solving problems—any problem, as long as it could be "fixed." Whether it was mechanical repairs, medical assistance, intelligence gathering, surveillance, or other specialized tasks, the Fixer Crew had someone with the right skills for the job.
Operating from the heart of the slums in a fallen city, where morality was a luxury only the wealthy or powerful could dictate, the Fixer Crew upheld a basic code of ethics.
Unlike many other groups, they refused to exploit or harass the poor and vulnerable.
In fact, their ranks were made up of individuals who came from such backgrounds. While their recruitment process was strict, this ethos made them popular among the locals.
They were seen as a rare source of reliability in a place where trust was scarce.
This set them apart from groups like the Cranks, who often delved into unspeakable activities.
Despite their contrasting approaches, neither the Fixer Crew nor the Cranks had a monopoly on the city.
Their control extended only to certain areas, while the true powers—the underbosses and influential figures shaping the city's grim trajectory—remained focused on larger concerns. As long as the smaller groups stayed in their lane, they were left to operate freely.
This unspoken arrangement was profitable for everyone. The underbosses kept the city running while the smaller crews managed their domains.
As for the high-stakes missions that Messimah and Trumm often undertook, they weren't always about conventional valuables. The items they risked their lives to obtain ranged from peculiar devices to specialized tools—items with limited appeal to the general populace but of critical importance to someone in Messimah's line of work.
An industrial smelting regulator, a hazardous waste separator, a micro-fusion reactor, and a molecular gastronomy synthesizer.
A reclaimed mining drone and many others.
Messimah didn't need these devices per se, however, they all had something that he needed in fairly good shape.
Each of them, through research and educational deductions, Messimah realized that he could scrap what he needed from these devices.
However, some of them weren't devices that could be purchased without a corresponding license.
Hence their decision to patronize the black market.
Of all the things he required, one of the devices, which was rare in this fallen city, was also something that Gaus's men were after.
Which is the Environmental Hazard Monitor.
Of which its function was evident in its name.
It monitored the environment, identifying, measuring, and accessing the dangers in a specified area.
In the state that the world found itself in, this device is a true lifesaver, and yet, it is something that isn't available to the public.
Mainly because of the variety of components in the device, its production costs, and the concept of elitism.
Nonetheless, not everyone likes to follow the rules, leading to this device being found in the black market from time to time.
Messimah was certain that Gaus's men were also after the components of the Environmental Hazard Monitor.
While they were stealing their things back, Messimah came across something that wasn't on his list of devices to get, and yet, it caught his interest.
Making him steal it from the Crank Crew.
A Starship Navigation Array, a device that he had read about but had never had the chance to inspect in real life.
From what he had read about this device, this starship navigation array is an outdated device found in outdated spacecraft.
It had its flaws and pros, and a mystery to it that even the creators couldn't figure out completely.
Apart from being able to plot navigation routes in space, it could also detect what could only be explained as cosmic phenomena.
The creators didn't dive deep into this mystery as a new and better version of the starship navigation had been created.
Unable to resist the temptation of having such a device in his hands, Messimah took it with him.
After all, he needed to quench his anger somehow.
Messimah didn't need this device in particular for anything, he was just curious about it and wanted to study it some more.
Stealing their things back wouldn't necessarily cause much of a commotion or garner much anger from the thieves, as they were only taking back what was theirs.
But taking things that weren't theirs, Messimah was certain that a complaint and threat would be passed around the city, especially the slums.
But because he had been in seclusion for the past week, working on this project, he was oblivious to what was actually happening outside.
Messimah told Trumm and Gola not to disturb him unless it was a true emergency, and since they hadn't done so, Messimah assumed that Gaus was still searching for the thieves.
Gaus was well known for his petty and vengeful nature. Some people feared this about him, but those were people who had something to lose.
As for Messimah, he didn't fear the man, nor did he respect him in any way. He also didn't feel like he had anything to lose.
Everything he needs, Messimah believed he could make or get it himself. What he truly valued wasn't something that Gaus could touch.
His mind, his smarts, and his brains.
The only reason Messimah didn't go into the Crank's base guns blazing was that Jonah told him not to.
To Messimah, there were only a few people in this world that were worthy of his respect and Jonah is one of them.
Nonetheless, despite the respect he had for Jonah, it wasn't enough to stop Messimah from stealing the back Environmental Hazard Monitor.
Dumbass.
Messimah chuckled as he recalled the comment of one of the men who was in a skeletal bionic suit that he disabled.
The comment of the man who asked him to remove the mask he had on and reveal his face to them.
The only reason you fools haven't been able to find us is because unlike you arrogant dogs, we were wise enough to disguise ourselves while stealing.
Scattered around Messimah were blueprints of several kinds, designed by him, to house the scraped components from the devices he and his gang forked up.
He had been working on this project for over a year. The time frame could have been lessened, however, his lack of sufficient funds, his lack of access to the appropriate tools alongside the license to do what he wished to do, Messimah was stuck in a tight place for a while.
His lab or workshop was a somewhat cramped, aptly lit space carved out of an abandoned storage unit.
Rusted metal sheets patched the walls, and a single but bright bulb provided light in this space.
Makeshift shelves, crafted from salvaged planks, held piles of scavenged components.
A battered workbench, with customized tires beneath and its surface marred by burn marks and oil stains, dominated the center.
Bits of wire, screws, and circuit boards littered the floor, while a worn, half-functional ventilation fan struggled to clear the air of solder fumes.
Despite the mess and chaos, the space buzzed with a sense of creativity and creation.
Money, money, money. My ancestors and parents might have had a beef with you, but, if I continue to live, I will have so much of you that you would mean nothing to me anymore.
Messimah thought to himself as he began putting together the pieces of hardware he needed to create his wish.
He was done tweaking the programmables and reshaping the scraps to fit his device without harming the essential parts of the components.
How rich should I become? I mean I should have a specific goal, right?
No.
However, it should be enough to sponsor so many 'fuck you money' cause I won't ever feel good if I don't slap some bastards in the face with money.
Let's complete this project first…
Messimah was referring to the companies and individuals that he approached several times in the past, asking them to invest in him—research funds.
Yet, time after time, they all turned him down, not even wanting to listen to his ideas without him providing a certificate and license to show that he was capable of performing in the field that he claimed.
A few hours had passed by the time Messimah was done building his device.
"My first Aqua filtration kit," Messimah uttered, his eyes gaining a confident light in them, despite the bags he had underneath his eyes.
A filtration kit, yes.
It was just as its name implied, a filtration kit with the capabilities of purifying water.
In this era, and this world, things like pure water had become only accessible to the rich and powerful. An era where guns and weapons are considered cheap when compared to expenses one would need to shoulder just to fulfill the daily necessities...
As for the rest, they had to settle for radioactive water.
The current state of the world is completely different from what it was in the past, in almost every way.
Who would have ever thought that the solar system where Earth was would mutate?