He spent Monday and Tuesday attempting normalcy, a foreign concept. He slept past dawn, cooked real food, even tackled a minor, long-ignored annoyance, a cheap flat-pack bookshelf in the corner that had always wobbled precariously. He'd bought it months ago, assembled it hastily, and it wobbled like a drunken sailor, threatening to shed its load of scavenged business textbooks and old binders.
He found the small Allen key that came with it amidst the clutter in a kitchen drawer. On impulse, driven by the need to do something, test something while his main path was unclear, he held the flimsy L-shaped piece of metal. Allen Key. +1 Hardness/Precision Fit. Ping. (1 charge used). The key felt infinitesimally denser, the hexagonal edges seeming fractionally sharper, cleaner.
He knelt down and started tightening the various cam locks and screws he hadn't bothered with properly during the initial assembly. The difference was subtle, yet undeniable. The +1 Allen key slotted into the hexagonal recesses with zero slop, a perfect, tight fit where the original key likely would have started to strip the cheap particle board or the soft metal of the fasteners. He could apply significantly more torque without the key flexing or slipping. Each turn felt precise, efficient. Within ten minutes, he had systematically tightened every connection. He stood the bookshelf upright. Solid. Rock steady. Not a hint of a wobble.
He ran a hand over the now-stable shelf, considering. Okay. Enhancing a simple tool works. It made the task easier, faster, yielded a better result. But the value? He'd used one of his ten precious daily charges to slightly improve the assembly of a $30 bookshelf using a free tool. Hardly a path to riches. Useful confirmation, perhaps, that the +1 wasn't limited to complex end products, but the economic application for enhancing cheap tools seemed negligible. Still, the seed of enhancing process rather than product lingered, filed away as 'inconclusive but interesting'.
His main activity remained research, but with a wider, more cautious scope. He scrolled through mainstream news on his laptop, the whiplash of the global economy a constant backdrop.
The global economic news painted a picture of chaotic instability. The tariff war waged by the current administration remained a dominant theme, a dizzying narrative of pronouncements and reversals. One headline declared imminent tariffs on European cars. The next day, a "constructive dialogue" led to a temporary deferral. Days later, negotiations would collapse over agricultural quotas, and tariffs on imported steel or consumer electronics would suddenly snap back into place, sending ripples of uncertainty through global supply chains.
He watched the stock market indices react with violent, knee-jerk swings. Pure, manufactured chaos. The S&P 500 graph looked like it was a game of snakes and ladders, up you go based on flimsy rumours of a deal being made (up 5%), only to slide back down on the wrong move when there was proposed counter tariffs by other countries (down 4%), and then plunging again (down 3%) on weak manufacturing data exacerbated by trade uncertainty. Fortunes vaporizing and materializing overnight.
Imagine, Theo thought, leaning back, nursing a cup of decent home-brewed coffee (normal, unenhanced, pending further investigation). Imagine having the power to influence that. Not just react, but initiate. A carefully timed whisper about stalled negotiations… a strategically leaked memo hinting at a breakthrough… He envisioned shorting the market index futures just before releasing negative 'insider' info (easily fabricated), then flipping long moments before announcing a 'resolution'. Billions changing hands based on manufactured certainty in an uncertain world. The sixty grand in his account felt like irrelevant pocket change. The power wasn't just in having money. It was in having the leverage to make money, to bend the vast, impersonal market to one's will. That required a different kind of capital, influence, connections, political clout. His ambition recalibrated, hardening into a resolve that felt colder, more absolute. A billion wasn't the goal. It was the minimum buy-in for the real game.
He forced himself back to more immediate concerns. Playing the markets now was pure gambling, a quick way to lose everything.
His research pivoted back to tangible goods, focusing on the 'low volume, high value, low profile' mantra. He spent hours exploring obscure corners of the internet. Rare stamps? Too subjective, condition grading was an art form. Antique furniture? Logistics nightmare, value tied to ownership and history he couldn't fake. High-end audio equipment? Vacuum tubes, bespoke amplifiers? Possible, but another enthusiast market prone to intense scrutiny and audiophile debates.
Frustrated by the lack of clear digital pathways, he decided on more field research on Wednesday. He drove to an area on the other side of the city known for antique malls and higher-end pawn shops, places catering to more discerning clientele than the check-cashing joints near his apartment. Dressed nondescriptly, baseball cap pulled low, he wandered through aisles filled with the ghosts of past fortunes.
He feigned interest in a display case of complex-looking scientific instruments at one antique mall, a brass statue, a hefty nautical chronometer, an old apothecary scale with delicate weights. He struck up a conversation with the proprietor, an elderly woman with sharp eyes.
"Incredible craftsmanship," Theo commented, gesturing vaguely. "How do you even determine the value on something like this?"
"Oh, it's history, condition, rarity, provenance," she explained patiently. "Does it work? Is it complete? Who made it? Where has it been? For scientific pieces, accuracy can sometimes be verified, but often it's more about the historical significance."
Theo nodded, processing. Accuracy. That was quantifiable. Could he enhance an old chronometer for +1 Accuracy? Make it keep time better than when it was new? Maybe. But how to prove it to a sceptical collector without specialized equipment and weeks of observation? And how to justify a massive price hike based on an invisible, unverifiable improvement? It felt like hitting the same wall. The +1 needed to be felt, experienced, yet plausibly deniable.