The Black Merchant Nepal sent a man for the items Li Qingyu needed, while Li himself decided to chat with him for a bit:
"Do you buy lasguns?"
Nepal, wiping some metal scrap with a rag, froze for a moment upon hearing about the lasgun. Then he turned:
"Got a laser rifle?"
Li Qingyu remained silent, continuing to bore into him with his gaze.
The merchant hesitated for a moment and shook his head:
"It won't work. Lasguns have a gene-lock, no one but the owner can use them."
"So I thought, damn gene-lock," Li Qingyu thought. "So the lasgun, obtained with such difficulty, is just a useless piece of metal."
"Is there no way to hack it?"
"There is!"
Nepal nodded.
"You can find a decoder and brute-force it. But a lasgun is an advanced piece of equipment, and it might house a Machine Spirit. Brute-force hacking will enrage the Spirit, so you'll need holy oil and incense to appease it. Otherwise, the battery will explode after a couple of shots."
"Where can I get these things?" Li Qingyu asked.
"I don't know about the decoder; such things are probably only found with the lords of the Upper Hive. As for the holy oil and incense, you need to get an ID card for the Middle Hive, find a church, and make a donation. The priests of the Ecclesiarchy will give you what you need."
Li Qingyu mentally noted this information. Meanwhile, Nepal's subordinate brought his order.
He slung the filled backpack over his shoulders, hefted the promethium battery the size of a car battery, and, nodding goodbye to Nepal, headed for the exit.
Watching his back, one of the henchmen quietly asked, "Boss, maybe we should...?"
Nepal glared at his subordinate: "Get out of my sight, you imbecile!"
He was a black market trader, meaning deception was part of the job. But you needed a gut feeling for it. A client as big as Li Qingyu, capable of acquiring assault rifles, needed to be cherished and pampered.
His Fertilizer Gang often clashed with their neighbors, the Chemists. The gang leader had ordered him to get thirty reliable guns within a month; it seemed a big showdown was imminent.
People like Li Qingyu, who had the guts to go to the Surface and loot battlefields – these were the very people a trader like him lived off.
He turned to his subordinate: "Go tell the gatekeepers not to dare touch my guest. Anyone who disobeys, I'll personally turn into fertilizer."
Li Qingyu walked back with his cargo. Entering the steel corridor, he nodded to the two guards.
He wasn't afraid of bandit lawlessness in the Underhive. "They want to cheat me? Whatever, my dad respawns infinitely! I'll haunt you every day, respawn, and kill you again, haul guns from the Surface, and come back to destroy you to the last man!"
Fortunately, he had traded with the Fertilizer Gang several times without problems. It seemed the trader was a sensible man.
Entering the dark corridor, Li Qingyu turned on his flashlight. The echo of his heavy footsteps resounded through the tunnel.
The promethium battery was heavy – over thirty kilograms, it pressed painfully on his shoulder. Plus twenty kilos of iron in the backpack – a total of fifty kilograms of load. A yellow weight icon immediately appeared in the lower left corner of his vision: "Overload, speed reduced by 30%."
Good thing it wasn't a red overload, or he wouldn't have been able to move at all.
Reaching his shelter, Li Qingyu opened the massive iron door, entered, and locked himself in, cutting off the outside world and its problems.
Dropping the materials, he began to furnish his little nest.
First, he placed the promethium battery in the corner. Shelter Power Supply: Level 0 -> Level 1.
Power Source: Promethium Battery, Durability 54%.
Only half durability. "What a profiteer, selling junk."
But a promethium battery was a powerful thing. It was 40th-millennium technology: put one on a 3rd-millennium electric car, and it would travel five thousand kilometers without recharging!
With power sorted, he began installing lighting: first, he ran the wires, then connected the light bulbs, hammering nails into the cracks of the ceramite walls.
Finishing the installation, he flipped the switch. With a dry click, the dark room was instantly filled with light.
Lighting: Level 0 -> Level 1.
Li Qingyu was extremely pleased. Finally, it was bright.
Then he turned his gaze to the workbench, unloaded all the remaining parts there, connected the power, and after some noise and clanging, the system displayed: "Workbench: Level 1 -> Level 2."
The main advantage of the second level was the angle grinder. It could effectively grind off serial numbers from weapons, and if you changed the disc, it could cut metal.
Having obtained a more efficient tool, he immediately got to work. He ground off the markings from the lasgun and the remaining three autoguns, then removed the Imperial Aquila symbols from the body armor and helmet. He finished in less than ten minutes.
Having finished his work, Li Qingyu began doing push-ups, squats, and shuttle runs on the spot, training his body.
His physical skills were inherited from the PMC system in Tarkov and were divided into:
Strength 11, Endurance 12, Vitality 10.
Resistance to Hunger 10, Thirst 10, Viruses 10, Radiation 10, Chemical Toxins 10, Warp Effects 10, Psionics 10.
Weapon Proficiency 10, Psionic Skills 10, Thrown Weapons 10, Melee Combat 10, Ground Transport 10, Atmospheric Aviation 10, Space Aviation 10, Combat Ships 10, Power Armor 10.
After a series of exercises, Li Qingyu completely depleted his energy reserves and breathed heavily, but the three main physical indicators didn't even budge.
Physical fitness is a tricky thing; it's very hard to train, requiring long practice.
Li Qingyu ate crackers, washed them down with water, restoring his strength, and went to sleep. He slept until the sky outside (if he could see it) began to darken. He was planning a raid. A night raid.
What weapon and armor to take?
What armor, for crying out loud! Of course, a "knife run"! Being a hoarder hamster is an integral part of the "Loot-Kill-Evacuate" gameplay!
Li Qingyu took a medium-sized travel backpack, a dagger, a canteen of water, and four packs of crackers. Ready for the exit.
But as soon as he stepped out the door, he checked the contacts in the system interface out of habit. Exclamation marks hung above the heads of both contacts. There were quests.
To accept a quest, you had to approach the contact personally. He didn't know where to find Rudolsson, but Nepal was at the Fertilizer Gang's base.
He turned right, towards the gang's territory, deciding to take a quest before the raid.
At the end of the corridor, the same two thugs were on duty.
"Halt... Ah, it's you. Go ahead, but no funny business."
Recognizing Li Qingyu and remembering their boss's orders, they let him pass without question.
Li Qingyu headed for Nepal's shop. On the way, he noticed a large gathering of armed bandits. It seemed something serious was brewing.
Arriving at the shop, he found the trader rummaging through a pile of junk – he was picking up parts for weapon assembly.
Seeing Li Qingyu, Nepal put on a fake smile on his grim face: "Oh, Emperor witness, who sent my good guest to me at such a crucial moment!"
"Crucial moment?" Li Qingyu asked doubtfully.
"Alas," Nepal sighed. "My guys found a chemical reactor among the construction debris in the Underhive. We were going to take control of this area and use the reactor to produce fertilizer."
But the neighboring Chemists also had their eyes on it. If so, let's see whose fist is stronger!
"My good friend, get me ten reliable guns. I will not only buy them at market price but also add five thousand talons for fertilizer on top. And, of course, my friendship in addition. Deal?"
A system notification chimed in Li Qingyu's head.
*Ding! New quest!*
*Sell 10 autoguns or assault pistols to the Black Market Trader.*
*Reward: 5000 talons for fertilizer, Reputation with Trader: Level 0 -> Level 1.*