After about fifteen minutes of scanning every single car in the lot, Dave finally stepped back inside the mall. But he didn't stop there.
[Scan Complete: Marble Brown Tiles Blueprint added to the database.]
[Scan Complete: 2F2 Steel Support Beam Blueprint added to the database.]
[Scan Complete: 2SS 9mm Tempered Glass Blueprint added to the database.]
He didn't skip anything. The stairs, the flooring, the pillars, the windows, the handrails—even the sliding doors at the entrance. If it existed and his eyes passed over it, it went into his system.
And then… came a person.
[Scan Complete: Human – Female, Age 23, Blueprint added to the database.]
[Scan Complete: Cynes-2 Spectacles Blueprint added to the database.]
[Scan Complete: Hogo L-Size T-shirt Blueprint added to the database.]
Dave froze.
A woman had passed by him just as he re-entered the mall—and his system had scanned her. Not just her outfit, not just her accessories… her.
'What the fuck? I can even scan people?'
His mind reeled.
Outwardly, he kept his expression calm—just a normal guy window-shopping. But inside, he was stunned.
Could he recreate a human being? A living person?
He shook his head. 'Nope. Not going there. Too weird. Too dangerous. Just… don't think about it right now.'
He resumed his mission.
From shop to shop, he wandered like any casual mall-goer. No one paid him any special attention. They had no idea he was looting entire inventories of blueprints with just a glance.
Clothing stores? Scanned. Jackets, boots, socks, even the mannequins.
Electronics? Every phone, speaker, headset, tablet, and appliance on display.
Home goods? Lamps, sofas, beds, rice cookers, kitchen knives—if it had a physical form, Dave's system took it.
And, of course, he didn't skip food. Bakeries, diners, fast food outlets, coffee kiosks—all scanned. Because cooking? Cooking was crafting too.
If it could be broken down into ingredients, techniques, temperatures, and tools, it could be simulated. And if it could be simulated, then he could craft it.
He might just end up inventing the perfect burger one day.
And then… he arrived at the last destination.
The biggest toy shop in the entire mall.
A place he used to visit often—not for nostalgia, but for something far more sacred: figurines.
Especially the rare mecha models or the occasional anime character that slipped past the merch licensing gods.
Today, though, he wasn't here to buy.
He was here to scan everything.
And the moment he stepped inside, he could already feel the rush building again.
Like a kid in a candy store. Only this time, the kid had a god-tier blueprint-capturing system, and the candy was every detailed, molded, perfectly scaled collectible in the room.
Time to loot the catalog of imagination.
----
Dave stepped into the toy store.
The place was packed—crowded with people of all ages. Kids, parents, teens, even a few adults who looked like they had no excuse to be there except "I'm buying it for my nephew."
Since today was a holiday, the store was buzzing like a carnival. Dave didn't care. He had a mission.
His eyes scanned everything in sight, and his system did the rest.
[Scan Complete: 3X5 Chrono Life-Size Teddy Bear Blueprint added to database.]
[Scan Complete: Dino404 XXXL Dinosaur Figurine Blueprint added to database.]
[Scan Complete: 5-Year-Old Human Male Blueprint added to database.]
[Scan Complete: XOLO Children's L-Size T-Shirt Blueprint added to database.]
[Scan Complete: XOLO Children's L-Size Shorts Blueprint added to database.]
Another kid sprinted through his field of vision, triggering yet another automatic scan. Dave winced.
"…Again?"
He sighed, annoyed. This kept happening. Every time he got into the scanning rhythm, some kid would run by and get recorded into the system like an accidental NPC scan.
"How many kids have I scanned now…? I'm gonna need a filter at this rate."
Still, he pushed on. He had about five hours left before the game launched. He'd already had lunch at one of the restaurants in the mall, so now it was just about passing time efficiently—scanning more stuff and maybe testing out the dismantle and crafting features.
But obviously, he wasn't going to use his phone or the expensive VR headset for that. And no way was he going to test it on his car.
'Nah, I need some cheap junk for testing.'
He roamed through the aisles, scanning every kind of toy in sight—cars, buses, trains, tanks, bikes—remote-controlled, battery-powered, or spring-wound. If it moved, it got scanned. If it didn't, it still got scanned.
Then came the high-end section: remote-controlled helicopters, quadcopters, submarines, and even scale-model ships. Toy-sized but complex. Perfect blueprint material.
Unlike electronic stores or jewelry counters where everything was locked behind glass and salespeople, this toy store was more like a convenience shop. Self-serve layout, minimal staff, and items laid out on shelves you could pick up and hold.
It made his job stupidly easy. Just look and scan. Look and scan.
Eventually, Dave reached that section.
The shrine.
The final boss.
The anime figurine zone.
A place free of children. No strollers, no juice boxes, no crying toddlers. Just grown men quietly browsing, united in silent appreciation.
This wasn't a place for kids. These figurines weren't "toys"—they were collectibles. Art. Culture. And let's be real: some of them were absolutely 18+ for reasons we all understood but pretended not to.
Dave stepped in with reverence.
As expected, it was mostly guys—dads who had used the excuse of "taking the kids shopping," now left to wander while their wives went clothes shopping. Some were boyfriends waiting for their partners to finish up in the cosmetics section. Some were solo otaku, like Dave.
And all of them were staring up at beautifully sculpted 2D girls frozen mid-pose, from innocent magical girls to seductive ara-ara onee-sans. And of course, the mecha. Sleek. Majestic. Engineered like the dreams of every 12-100 year-old boy with a wrench and a Gundam DVD box set.
Dave looked around and couldn't help but smile.
"Yeah. This is still my kind of place."
And then he resumed scanning.
Every figurine. Every display. Every mechanical model. Even the shelf layouts and lighting if they had unique fixtures.
He wasn't just filling his database anymore. He was building a digital museum—an arsenal of blueprints that spanned the imaginative dreams of childhood and the borderline degenerate fantasies of adult nerdom.
And he was loving every second of it.