With three Aspects integrated and his initial slots filled, Adam knew his next priority had to be twofold: relentless physical conditioning and finding a sustainable source of income. The meager 450 IP he possessed felt insufficient, a buffer too thin against the dangers this world promised. The $110 or so remaining in Adam Walker's bank account was a ticking clock counting down to eviction and starvation.
He threw himself into training with renewed intensity. The small apartment became his personal, albeit cramped, gym. Push-ups until his arms gave out, sit-ups until his abs cramped, squats until his legs burned. He incorporated his Aspects: using [Basic Urban Navigation] to visualize escape routes while doing endurance exercises, practicing moving silently across the creaking floorboards with [Basic Stealth], trying to minimize the sound even his strained breathing made.
The progress was agonizingly slow. His teenage body, though recovering slightly faster now thanks to consistent, albeit poor, nutrition and the System's minor parameter boosts, was still fundamentally weak. Each training session left him exhausted, drenched in sweat, muscles screaming. The System occasionally rewarded his efforts with a trickle of IP.
[Sustained Training Milestone Reached. +10 IP Awarded.]
It was barely anything, but it reinforced the path. Physical readiness was non-negotiable. If his [Danger Intuition] flared, he needed the stamina to run, the agility to dodge, the basic strength to maybe shove an obstacle in someone's way.
But training required fuel, and fuel required money. Relying on Opportunity Quests like the mugging intervention was too passive, too random. He needed capital. His mind sifted through the future knowledge, searching for low-hanging fruit in the 2006 financial landscape. Big tech like Apple was already known. Stark Industries was volatile, and he didn't want Obadiah Stane noticing unusual stock activity tied to him yet. He needed something smaller, something predictable based on his vague memories of tech booms and busts from his past life.
He recalled a niche software company – OmniCorp Solutions – that had a major breakthrough with enterprise software around late 2006 or early 2007, causing its stock to surge briefly before being bought out. It was obscure enough that a small investment wouldn't raise flags. The potential return wasn't astronomical, but it could give him the breathing room he desperately needed. Problem: He needed seed money. $110 wasn't going to cut it.
He needed another quest, a more substantial one than the +50 IP for buying groceries. He couldn't just wait for opportunities; he had to seek them out, carefully.
That evening, as dusk settled over Brooklyn, Adam ventured out again. This time, he wasn't just going for supplies; he was hunting for opportunity, guided by his Aspects. He consciously activated [Basic Stealth], moving through the darkening streets like a shadow. He kept to less crowded areas, alleys, the fringes of busier districts, letting his [Danger Intuition] be his guide.
For an hour, nothing. Just the usual city ambiance, the low hum of traffic, distant arguments, the occasional flare of unease from his Danger Intuition as he passed dimly lit corners or groups of rough-looking individuals, which he easily avoided using his Stealth and Navigation. He was about to give up, frustration mounting, when the prickle intensified near a loading dock behind a closed warehouse.
Danger. Deception. Concealed activity.
He flattened himself against a grimy brick wall, peering around the corner. Two men in suits were exchanging a briefcase with a third, nervous-looking man in dockworker overalls. It looked shady, possibly corporate espionage, maybe a low-level gang deal. Perfect. He needed proof.
He remembered the cheap, disposable camera he'd bought with his grocery money – a just-in-case purchase. He pulled it out, the flimsy plastic cool in his hand. He needed a better angle. Using [Basic Urban Navigation], he identified a fire escape on the adjacent building. Employing [Basic Stealth], he moved silently, climbing the rusted metal stairs, his worn sneakers making almost no sound. From the first landing, he had a clear, albeit distant, view of the exchange.
[Opportunity Quest Issued: Silent Witness]
[Objective: Observe the illicit exchange, obtain clear photographic proof, and deliver it anonymously to the NYPD tip line without being detected.]
[Reward: 200 IP, $500 Police Reward (Confirmed via anonymous tip line protocols)]
Jackpot. He raised the disposable camera, the cheap lens offering minimal zoom. He had to be patient. He waited until the briefcase was open, revealing stacks of cash, and the dockworker handed over a manila envelope. Click. Click. Click. He took several shots, hoping at least one would be clear enough. The men finished their transaction quickly, shook hands briefly, and dispersed in different directions.
Adam waited until they were long gone before descending the fire escape just as silently as he'd gone up. His heart hammered against his ribs – the thrill of the risk, the potential reward. Now, the delivery. He found a public payphone a few blocks away (a relic even in 2006), dialed the NYPD anonymous tip line, reported the suspicious activity, location, and description, mentioning he'd left photographic evidence in a specific, out-of-the-way trash receptacle nearby. He dropped the camera in the designated bin and walked away briskly, melting back into the night.
He didn't sleep well, the anticipation gnawing at him. The next afternoon, using another payphone, he called the tip line back, providing the case reference number he'd been given.
"Yes, the information was verified and deemed useful," the operator stated disinterestedly. "The standard reward of $500 can be claimed via anonymous pickup at location Delta-7."
Adam got the address – a specific locker at a bus terminal. Following the instructions precisely, he retrieved an unmarked envelope containing five crisp hundred-dollar bills later that day. Success.
[Quest Complete: Silent Witness]
[Reward: 200 IP Awarded.]
[Remaining IP: 650]
He now had roughly $610 in cash. It wasn't a fortune, but it was the seed he needed. Wasting no time, he found an internet cafe, paid for an hour, and carefully, anonymously, opened a bare-bones online brokerage account using the sparse details Adam Walker possessed. He funneled $600 into OmniCorp Solutions stock. The die was cast. Now, he had to wait for that investment to mature.
Back in his apartment, a sense of weary accomplishment washed over him. He had proactively used his Aspects and knowledge, secured vital funds, and gained more IP. His total stood at 650 IP. His Slots remained full (-/3) with [Danger Intuition (B)], [Basic Urban Navigation (C)], and [Basic Stealth (C)].
The path forward was clearer, but no less daunting. He needed more power, more Aspects, more slots. Fusion was likely the next step for improvement, but that would require significant IP and potentially rare catalysts from the still-locked Shop. For now, training and patience were key. He had planted the seeds; now he had to cultivate them while surviving the concrete jungle.