Chương 73: Pay to Win

Alexander stepped through the doorway into the workshop he'd rented through Precision Unlimited and stopped, taking it all in. The workshop stretched out before him, industrial and beautiful. Clean steel surfaces, overhead gantries for heavy lifting, power feeds running in organized channels along the walls. The air carried that particular mixture of machine oil and ozone that meant serious work happened here. But it was the equipment that made him grin. The Zhao-Matsuura NX-7000 dominated the center of the space.

The nanoscale printer was the size of a small room, its vacuum chamber gleaming behind reinforced transparent aluminum. He approached it slowly, fingers trailing along the control panel. Two nanometer resolution, just like the concierge had promised. Multi-material deposition with real-time atomic-level monitoring. The interface felt familiar despite the revolutionary capabilities.

At Frank's shop, he'd spent countless hours with their Meyer-Klein MK-4500, a workhorse printer that handled cybernetic components at 150-nanometer resolution. Good enough for neural interface housings and prosthetic actuators, but child's toys compared to this. The principles were the same though: feedstock management, layer deposition patterns, thermal cycling, material recycling. Just refined to an almost absurd degree. He'd rebuilt enough damaged implants to understand the theory.

Had troubleshot failed prints when Frank's machine threw alignment errors. Even modified deposition patterns to compensate for unusual alloy compositions. That foundational knowledge would translate here. The NX-7000 was playing the same sport; it was just playing at a level far above the professional leagues. Fifty thousand credits per hour? Worth every credit. He moved to the materials synthesizer, checking the feedstock reserves.

Full loads of titanium, tungsten, carbon nanotubes, and even some exotic composites he'd only read about. The molecular assembly bay could handle protein folding and organic compounds, though he wouldn't need those features anytime soon. If ever. Next to the synthesizer sat the recycling unit, a molecular disassembly chamber that could break failed prints back down to their component materials with a ninety-nine point nine percent recovery rate. Perfect for his needs.

He could print, test, fail, and reprint without wasting feedstock. At these prices, every gram mattered, and he fully expected many iterations before getting the more complex components right. A laser sintering station occupied one corner, capable of working with metal powders at micron precision. Ideal for the larger drone components. Next to it, a suite of diagnostic equipment that would let him test everything from electromagnetic interference patterns to quantum tunneling effects.

The equipment was overkill for most of what he needed to build. He knew that. Drone frames and armor plating didn't need two-nanometer precision. The shield-wings for Augustus's drone could be manufactured on any decent fabricator. But only printers of this caliber had the speed to handle his timeline. Multiple complex builds running in parallel, with zero cooling time between processes. More importantly, this was a test run. He was learning the system on components where small errors wouldn't be catastrophic.

The drone frames, armor plating, even most of the structural elements could tolerate minor imperfections and still function. He'd start there, get familiar with the printer's quirks and tolerances before moving to the critical components. The gauntlets would come later, once he understood the machine. The inner-arm supercapacitor banks needed precise molecular alignment to handle his Electrokinesis without melting.

Thin sheets of graphene-based capacitors layered precisely, each one requiring flawless carbon lattices to manage the charge-discharge cycles without creating hotspots. Above them, the conductive channels would run from fingertips to palm emitters, where shaped electromagnetic field generators would focus the discharge. The palm emitters themselves were the trickiest part. To throw lightning across distance, he'd need to solve air's resistance to electrical flow.

His design incorporated ionization pathway generators, microscopic UV lasers that would create a conductive channel through the air just milliseconds before discharge. Without precise alignment between the emitters and capacitor banks, the energy would dissipate uselessly or, worse, feed back into the gauntlet itself. The outer surface was simpler but no less important.

Multi-layered kinetic armor with honeycomb structures between plates, designed to crush and absorb impacts while protecting the delicate electronics beneath. He could block attacks with the back of his arms without risking the critical systems. There were similar precision requirements for the drone processors and their electromagnetic shielding components. But by the time he got to either those or his gauntlets, he'd have dozens of hours working with the system, multiple iterations of the simpler parts behind him.

His future plans would require this level of equipment anyway. What he had in mind for after the combat challenges, and he would do everything he could to ensure his team's survival, would require every bit of the printer's capabilities. This was an expensive education, but a necessary one. His fingers itched to start working. The System chimed with an incoming communication request from Augustus. Alexander accepted without looking away from the printer's specs.

"How'd it go?" Alexander asked, already pulling up the workshop's inventory management system.

"Three hundred thousand per month for an island with amenities, including on-site medical facilities, and a private doorway linked to Astra Omnia. The Queen wants communication with our alien guests through me when they're ready." Alexander paused in his examination of the feedstock options.

"That's actually quite reasonable, considering."

"She knows we're desperate. Could have asked for more." Augustus's voice carried an odd note.

"We have two hours before the Doorman arrives. I'm heading back now to get everyone ready."

"Need me there?"

"No. Stay focused on keeping us alive. We can handle the move." Alexander nodded, though Augustus couldn't see it. The printer's interface responded to his Technopathy, systems opening up in layers to his mind.

"Two hours isn't much time."

"Star Titan is already mobilizing Santiago's resources. The Queen's sources suggest they'll apply pressure to those who know us."

"Frank?"

"Sent him a message. Don't worry about that old fool. He can take care of himself so long as he knows something's coming." This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Alexander paused. He might not be very good at understanding his own, but he was a master at picking up on other people's emotional tells. His experiences growing up had made it a necessity.

And he was certain Augustus was expressing stress unrelated to just evading the threat of Tier 3 hunting them.

"Your father?" he asked after thinking it through. Silence for a moment.

"He's being collected. The Queen arranged it." Alexander heard what wasn't said. The vulnerability that had required revealing his weakness to the Queen, and her quick response implied a growing debt. Uncertainty about whether he'd handled his responsibilities correctly.

"Good work on the negotiations, Auggy. You got us what we needed."

"We'll see if that's true soon enough." Augustus cut the connection. Alexander closed his eyes and considered for a moment, pushing back the desire to jump immediately into the work. Allowing Augustus to handle the negotiations had been the correct tactical decision. Not only was the older man better at dealing with people where finesse was required, there'd been obvious interest on the Queen's part. Alexander suspected it was mutual, though that wasn't the point.

If he'd been the one to approach about a deal, it would have been like putting two tigers into the same cage; and he didn't have the personal strength, nor did Grimnir have the recognition yet to match the Queen of Hearts, a member of The Royals, and one of the most wanted Tier 3 supervillains. Sure. He'd have gotten them what they needed. She was too interested in… something about them. An alliance, perhaps.

There was no doubt in his mind that she could see the same looming, uncertain future that he knew was coming. Perhaps it had something to do with the mad prophet she had. But in order for him to have negotiated with the Queen, she would have needed to prove herself the stronger of the pair, the one truly in control of the dynamics of their relationship. It's what he would have done in her shoes. Perhaps the mistake was not explaining to Augustus that he knew he'd have to sell their secret as part of the exchange?

Then again, maybe he was overthinking it and his friend was just worried about his own secrets and the threat to his father. Alexander sighed and turned back to the printer, returning to calculating build times. Three drones, each needing specialized modifications. He would save some time by reusing the two crafted drones, but he'd have to manufacture another from scratch. The gauntlets that could channel his Electrokinesis. Armor plating for each of them that could absorb or ablate energy attacks layer by layer.

He pulled up a blank schematic on the workshop's design interface, his Technopathy letting him manipulate it directly. Augustus first. His drone needed to be a mobile shield platform. Basketball-sized core, but with four vertical wings extending outward like a cross when viewed from the front.

The wings would serve multiple purposes: blocking line of sight to prevent targeting, providing a larger surface area for Augustus's shield magic to anchor to, and creating a defensive screen he could position between himself and threats. The design took shape in his mind: the central sphere for stability and processing, four wings that could extend or retract as needed. When fully extended, it would span nearly three feet, creating a significant barrier.

The wings themselves would need to be articulated, able to angle and adjust for optimal coverage. Multi-layered armor plating throughout, designed to ablate away under energy attacks while preserving the core structure. When Augustus shielded it, the magic would naturally spread across the wing surfaces, creating a much larger protected area than a simple sphere would allow. Offensive capability through the wings themselves.

They could retract for ramming attacks, or use their edges for slicing strikes when Augustus commanded it. He'd have to factor such maneuvers into the drone's programming, along with creating an entirely new decision-making tree for the unique combat style. Talia's was simpler. Heavy armor, with slower movement acceptable. The key was the electromagnet.

He'd need to build one powerful enough to lock onto a knight's sword through the drone's own armor and any magical enhancements on the weapon, but controlled enough that Talia could activate and deactivate it at will. He added multiple attachment points, letting it attach from different angles. Annie's was a puzzle. She was fighting a dinosaur. What did you need against something that size? Other than attacking the eyes or intentionally being swallowed, he doubted he could weaponize a drone against a dinosaur.

Unless it was a small one. But understanding Annie's goal, there was no way she would end up fighting a little one. No. She was going to do something stupid, like wanting to fight a T-Rex. And they'd probably be intelligent if they were part of the System's games and growing in power. He couldn't even imagine what abilities they might possess. The drone needed to serve other purposes: Distraction. Chaos. Confusion. All in line with Annie's fighting style.

He sketched out a drone loaded with sensory disruption systems. High-intensity strobe lights that could blind and disorient. A sound system capable of everything from ultrasonic shrieks to bass drops that could rattle bones. Smoke canisters for visual cover. And because it was Annie, glitter bombs. Clouds of reflective particles that would stick to everything, making tracking movement a nightmare while adding to the sensory overload, and also doubling as an attack like his own metal dust creation.

The ideal companion for someone who fought by getting in close and hitting hard. Keep the dinosaur confused, angry, and unable to focus while Annie did what she did best. Whatever that was. His own equipment came next. The tonfas had served their purpose, but they were too limiting. Too rigid for what he needed to grow into. Boots first. Flexible metal construction that could support his Metallokinesis for maneuvering. Not quite flying, but maybe controlled bursts, jump-boosting, and mid-air adjustments.

The design would need to balance flexibility and structural integrity. But if he was going to use Metallokinesis to maneuver himself, he'd need a stable center point. A belt, maybe. Heavy enough to serve as an anchor, with attachment points for equipment. He paused, thinking. Small tools. Weapons. But anything truly useful would require serious miniaturization, and he didn't have time for that level-of-detail work. Keep it simple, stupid. Small, sharp metal objects he could fling in clusters. Needles, perhaps.

Or ball bearings. His control wasn't fine enough for precision strikes, but a cloud of metal projectiles? That he could manage. The workshop's inventory showed steel ball bearings in various sizes. He could carry hundreds in belt compartments, launching them as needed. Not elegant, but effective. He recalculated, factoring in the complexity of each drone, the boots, the gauntlets. Fifty to fifty-five hours of printer time. Three days. Eighteen-hour days if he pushed himself.

The team would have to handle the relocation and settling into hiding while he made sure they had what they needed to survive the combat challenges. The math hurt. Fifty-five hours at fifty thousand credits per hour.

"Two point seven five million," he muttered. Almost three million credits just for workshop rental, not counting materials. For a moment, the waste of it stung. Three million would buy excellent manufacturing equipment, maybe even a previous-generation nanoscale printer if he found a desperate seller. But nothing close to the NX-7000's capabilities. This machine probably cost Precision Unlimited fifty million or more, and that was before installation and infrastructure. No. He forced himself through the logistics.

Purchase negotiations would take time. Shipping to their new location, a day minimum. Setting up a proper workshop space, installing power feeds, ventilation, safety systems. Another two days if he worked nonstop. Waiting for material deliveries, inevitable delays, testing, calibration. Not to mention the inferior equipment, both in speed and accuracy. There wasn't enough time. They had five days, and every hour mattered. This was the cost of urgency. The price of keeping his team alive.

Alexander pulled up the workshop's scheduling system, blocking out the next three days in eighteen-hour chunks. Six hours for sleep and basic necessities. Everything else went to the work. The printer finished its initial calibration. He loaded Augustus's drone frame specifications while simultaneously working on the belt design at the manual station. Fifty-five hours. Three drones. Four sets of personal equipment. Three million credits. Time to see if he could pay to win.

He set his internal clock, pushed exhaustion from his mind, and lost himself in the work. The team was counting on him. That was all that mattered.