The days were starting to blur.
Wake up hungry. Dig through trash. Pray for a decent scan result. Upload. Wait.
Every trade felt like casting a line into a galactic ocean, hoping something out there cared enough to bite.
The only difference now?
I wasn't drowning anymore.
With 6.9 C.U. in my system account and half a protein slab in my stomach, I could finally breathe—just a little.
I stared at the Encrypted Trade Chip, turning it over in my palm. Smooth. Metallic. Triangular. One side pulsed faintly, the other engraved with a symbol that looked like a star being swallowed.
[Requires Rank 3 to Decrypt]
I was close to nothing again—just three trades made. Seven more to go. But each trade was getting harder. Common junk wasn't cutting it anymore. The system had tasted value, and now it wanted more.
Like a market… always hungry.
Later that morning, I returned to Mira's stall. She raised an eyebrow before I even opened my mouth.
"No more weird junk," she rasped, folding her arms. "Unless you've got triple the credits."
I frowned. "Why the hike?"
"Somebody's been sniffing around. Asking why I keep selling 'trash' to a gutter rat. Think I wouldn't notice?"
My stomach twisted.
Not good.
The fewer people who knew I was trading, the safer. But Sector 9 had ears everywhere, and no one liked it when someone started climbing out of the pit.
"I'll pay double," I said.
"Triple," she said, stone-faced.
I cursed under my breath and dropped a full 1.5 C.U. on her table.
"Your funeral," she muttered, handing me a faded plastic bag full of old Earth items: a compass, a film camera lens, and a brittle, feathered mask.
I scanned the lens first.
[Analyzing…]– Status: Obsolete Optic Tech– Rarity: Common– Value: 0.4 – 0.6 C.U.
Worth Uploading? Yes
I uploaded it.
Next, the mask.
[Analyzing…]– Status: Earth Artifact (Cultural – Pre-Interstellar)– Rarity: Uncommon– Value: 2.0 – 3.5 C.U.
Worth Uploading? Yes
I almost dropped it in shock.
That was a big score.
Uploaded it too. The compass didn't even register—a dud.
Now came the wait.
Hours passed.
I scavenged more junk, tried scanning a rusted mechanical arm from an old bot—no value. I nearly gave up and started thinking about eating rat meat again when the chime hit:
[D.T.R. Incoming]– Sender: Archivist Xin'Tol, Celestial Museum of Bioculture– Requested Item: Feathered Earth Mask– Offer: 4.0 C.U. + 1x Cultural Archive Key (Bound Item)
Accept Trade?
[Cultural Archive Key (Bound)]– Description: Grants access to selected alien cultural repositories (non-combat)– Usable at Rank 3+– Cannot be traded, dropped, or sold. Bound to user.
I hit accept immediately.
[Transaction Complete][+4.0 C.U. received][Item Received: Cultural Archive Key][EEP Rank Progress: 4/10 Trades Complete]
The system's glow pulsed brighter for a moment.
Something was happening. The items I was receiving now weren't just barter trash—they were keys.
Keys to something bigger.
But just as I was storing the chip and archive key in my inventory, I heard something move behind me.
A shadow darted past the far side of the scrapyard.
I stood, heart pounding. My eyes scanned the trash piles, the broken slabs of concrete and bent girders.
No movement.
Then—
PING
A metal pipe clattered to the ground not ten feet from me.
My hand instinctively went to the nearest tool I had—a jagged bit of rebar.
"Who's there?" I shouted.
No answer.
No system alert either.
But I was being watched.
Followed.
And I had a good guess why.
C.U. weren't traceable here. Credits could be hidden. But people noticed patterns. Like how I was suddenly eating better. Buying more from Mira. Not getting desperate like the others.
And that meant I'd drawn attention.
I left the scrapyard that night.
Found a busted shelter module half-sunk into the junk piles—roof caved in, but it still had a door that locked.
It'd do.
For now.
I pulled the system open again before sleeping, just to ground myself. Just to remind myself that this wasn't a dream.
[EEP Rank: 2 (Trader)]Trades Completed: 4/10Next Rank: Rank 3 – Decryption, Archive Access, Trade Tier Expansion
I stared at the Encrypted Chip and Archive Key glowing softly in my storage list.
Two locked doors.
Seven more trades and I might hold the keys.
Status Panel
Cosmic Units (C.U.): 9.4
Earth Credits: 1.5
EEP Rank: 2 (Trader)
Completed Trades: 4/10
Notable Items:– Encrypted Trade Chip (Rank 3 Required)– Cultural Archive Key (Bound – Rank 3 Required)
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— S.A.