Bertram freezes for a second, then gets it.
This is about the Olson Family. Officer Nelson isn't just cleaning up a case; he's seizing a golden ticket.
If he can present this as his department's brilliant work, his star rises. One big win like this can grease the rails for a major promotion.
His mind works fast. He has two paths.
Take the deal, get a payoff, stay anonymous. Or refuse, let his name get attached to the case, and maybe... just maybe catch the eye of the Olson Family.
For an average student, the choice would be obvious. Who wouldn't want an in with the most powerful family in the sector?
But Bertram isn't average. He's playing a longer game.
"So, Chief," Bertram says, his voice level. "What's the offer?"
Nelson's eyes gleam.
The kid is negotiating. Good. "Young man, you're F-rank at your age. That suggests at least E-level talent. But your clothes… they tell me resources are tight. I am prepared to offer you ten thousand Dawn Coins. For your discretion."
Bertram's eyebrows shoot up.
Ten thousand?
This fat cop is loaded. It took Bertram over a decade of scraping to save two thousand. This guy talks about ten grand like it's pocket change.
But he's not showing his whole hand. Bertram can feel it.
"Thirty thousand," Bertram counters flatly.
With that kind of money, plus the insights from the simulation, his growth would skyrocket.
"Deal." Nelson's smile doesn't even flicker. He agrees instantly.
Bertram's stomach sinks a little. Damn. I lowballed myself. This old fox's limit was higher. Way higher.
Nelson reaches into his inner jacket pocket and pulls out three crisp, ten-thousand-Dawn-Coin notes.
As he does, Bertram catches a glimpse of two more identical bills still tucked inside. The real upper limit was probably fifty thousand.
I'm still too green, Bertram thinks, filing the information away. A lesson learned.
"Pleasure doing business," Nelson beams, handing over the cash. It's a fortune in Bertram's hands.
"Now, young man," Nelson continues, his tone shifting to rehearsed officialdom. "You simply report to the front desk that you lost thirty thousand Dawn Coins. By a fortunate coincidence, a good Samaritan, a kind, middle-aged citizen found and returned them today. You collect your 'lost' property and go home. Clean and simple."
Bertram matches the man's fake smile. "Thank you for your help, Officer Nelson. You and your men are true guardians of the people."
He tucks the thick stack of bills securely into his inner pocket and walks out of the station.
The city air feels different. Lighter.
On the walk back, a fierce excitement thrums through him.
He didn't just avoid a future assassination, he turned it into a massive payday. This money is jet fuel for his martial arts and psychic training.
As for giving up the Olson connection? He's not stupid.
First, as a mere informant, any 'credit' he got would be a charity handout, dependent on their whims. Not real power.
Second, and more important: the kidnappers were brazen enough to snatch an Olson heiress.
That means there's a bigger, badder mastermind behind them. Officer Nelson, with his station and his new Olson favor, might be safe from retaliation.
Bertram, a student with a target on his back, is not.
He doesn't want his next simulation to start with: [The shadowy mastermind, furious his operation was blown, tracks you down and eliminates you in a back alley.]
It's just a simulation, sure.
But the experiences and insights he gains from living longer in those simulations become real power when his destiny reshapes.
The longer he survives in the sims, the stronger he becomes in reality.
This deal isn't a loss. It's the smartest investment he could make.
So, facing a threat of that magnitude, the smart move is to let Officer Nelson stand in the spotlight and take the heat.
He will stay in the shadows, quietly building his strength.
Bertram heads straight back to the secluded shop, the one recommended by Javion. The bell above the door jingles.
"You're back." The shopkeeper looks up from behind the counter, a genuine note of warmth in his voice. "How did the blood source work out for you?"
"It worked perfectly," Bertram says, getting straight to the point. "That's why I'm back. I need more. The best you've got."
The shopkeeper's eyebrows lift slightly.
In his experience, kids like Bertram, wards of the state usually blow their entire life savings on one last, desperate power-up before being thrown to the wolves.
But this one came back. And there's a new confidence in his stance.
"Oh?" the shopkeeper muses. "Well, you're in luck. Just got a fresh shipment. High-grade stuff. Blood source from an F++ rank Golden Moses. Top of the food chain for F-tier creatures. Price reflects that, though. Ten thousand Dawn Coins per unit."
He holds up a single finger.
Bertram's breath hitches. Ten thousand?
A standard, complete blood source goes for around five thousand. This is double.
The thirty thousand in his pocket suddenly feels a lot lighter.
But the thrill that follows is electric. A Golden Moses. Not just F++, but a creature with innate metallic attributes.
Absorbing its essence wouldn't just boost raw martial power, it would specifically hone the edge of bladework, swordsmanship, anything related to sharp, metallic force.
For someone who just awakened a Void Valley Sword Body, it's a perfect match.
The shopkeeper recommended it the moment he walked in. Almost like he knew. But that's impossible. The man is just a shopkeeper.
It has to be a coincidence.
"Do you have any White Source as well?" Bertram asks, keeping his tone casual.
White Source is the psychic equivalent, a condensed cluster of mental energy from otherworldly beings.
The ultimate fuel for ability training.
This time, the shopkeeper's surprise seems more pronounced. "Oh? Training both martial arts and psychic abilities? Ambitious."
Definitely a coincidence, Bertram comfirms.
"As for White Source… I do have one. Sourced from a Moonwatching Ape. You know of them? Creatures famous for their mental prowess. They meditate under moonlight, mastering psychic energy. The White Source from one is exceptionally pure."
He pauses, his smile turning apologetic. "The price, however, is also exceptional. Thirteen thousand Dawn Coins."
Bertram's confidence deflates. Thirteen thousand?
He thought thirty thousand was a fortune. But between one top-tier White Source and just two of the Golden Moses blood sources, he'd be broke.
He does the math fast. "How about this: one Moonwatching Ape White Source, and two Golden Moses blood sources. Total package. For thirty thousand even." He puts all his chips on the table.
The shopkeeper shakes his head slowly. "Bargaining won't work on this. My prices are already the lowest you'll find for quality this high."
Bertram's heart sinks. He'll have to choose.
"But," the shopkeeper continues, a sly, knowing glint in his eye. "I could put it on credit. You can take them now. You'll owe me… three thousand Dawn Coins."