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"Alright. Can you do fabric work?" You place your six FUR LINED UNIFORMS and two WINTER OUTFITS onto the counter, alongside the RED CLOTH FRAGMENT (which, to clarify, is made out of an incredibly pricy material that's bullet and stab resistant.)
"Mmh. Not great at it but I'll try." He slides the pile of fabric to the side. "Next?"
"Do you have any, say, wrenches and screwdrivers and other tools a mechanic would use that I can buy?"
"Mmh. Mama's mama made this for me. Heard they were made once by an ancient company called 'Home Depot'. I care not for them." The old man digs around underneath the counter before slamming an ancient looking, rusted over toolbox onto said counter. He fiddles with a few latches to show that, yes, it still opens and yes: There are tools inside. "Next?"
"Crank these up a few notches, upgrade these, and make something cool out of these." You pour a bunch of random junk onto the table that you have in your 'who knows how it works' inventory system. You then slap down the required money onto the table. Given how an EMP Grenade probably takes less to upgrade than an assault rifle or something, you only put $150 for it.
He takes the money and the rest of the items so, yeah, seems like $150 is enough to upgrade it. "I'd exit the shop for a bit if I was you. It'll take a bit for me to finish and your eyes are creeping me the fuck out."
>-$1245. $3117 left!
He turns his back around and with the fury of a creator god trying his best to make the universe in seven days, he begins his work. A blinding light slowly begins to fill the room and the most foul, acrid scent humanity could ever smell hits your noise. It's like a combination of wet dog, rotten eggs, and smog.
You take his advice and step outside of his small hut. Might as well spend this time to tinker around with your PARADIGMs, he's too busy in his sauce to notice or care. That and nobody is out here to notice your foul occult tinkering.
First up is the WATERLOGGED POCKETWATCH. It's a very cool emergency backup tool but you do wonder how much you can get out of it outside of that. Pressing down on one of its dials and buttons, the world is awashed in a monochromatic grey hue. Everything has grinded to a halt.
You keep your thumb firmly pressed down on the dial you just pressed. One, two, three, four. Your whole body begins to tingle with an odd feeling as you keep your thumb pressed down. Six, seven, eight. You feel like you shouldn't be doing this.
Ten...and time is still stopped. As you begin to move your body through the still stopped time, you feel the muscles in your arms and legs beginning to burn up with some unknown heat. Your breathing quickly turns shallow as the air around you begins to disappear. 11, 12, 13., 14 Hundreds of pounds can be felt on your back with every single step you try taking.
15. You immediately let go of the crown of the pocket watch. Time immediately resumes as if nothing happened at all. Huh, interesting, you can prolong it.
