Regaining his momentum, Mark prepared for the announcement of the new mech. The lights dimmed, and everyone's attention fell into the screen behind the young man. The silhouette of a mech came into view. But the image was out of focus. The blurry image enticed the crowd; some even tried to guess what kind of mech it was based on the outline.
Mark began the introductory speech. "Society is a fickle thing. It changes and bends to the whims of the majority. These whims change frequently, like Garments of clothing. However, what happens to the ones that don't fall in line?"
The young man turns his head, addressing the crowd before him. "To the ones that swim against the current, unwilling to be swept by public opinion or the latest trend, what happens to them?"
Mark used the memories of his youth to project a sincere tone with his speech. "They are segregated, singled out, and separated. Then they are tossed into a corner and forgotten. Some are even laughed at and bullied. These actions are done to force us to change. To make us become one more in a herd."
He turned his head as if to look at each one in the crowd. "Should we accept this and let ourselves be herded like sheep to the slaughter?"
Mark pauses dramatically as his speech reaches every patron who hears it. "Should we roll over and let others determine what we do, what we think, and what we like?"
Unknowingly, he tapped into a sore spot for many of the workshop patrons. More than a few of them chose to pilot the McCain Reaper because of poor neuronal capacity. This characteristic caused them to be segregated as people of lesser value. While society frowned upon this unriten rule, no one did anything to prevent this discrimination.
Some of the players in the crowd, immersed in the moment, started screaming in response to his questions. One of them screamed, "No ...That is bull." Another answered, "I want to be myself." A third scream was heard. "Screw the mainstream!"
Mark resumed his speech before things got out of control again. "We, the ones that do not conform, are labeled as weird and outcasts. Because we do not fit in the tight molds they have chosen for us. We do not follow their self-serve rules, and for that, we are branded Outlaws.
The image behind him comes into focus. The mech model's name was displayed at the top. Gunslinger Outlaw. The crowd fell into silence, observing the image in detail. The shape of the armor, the weapons it used, and the aura of defiance it projected. Everyone in the crowd was absorbing all of it.
Mark moved on with the introduction of his new product. "This mech before your eyes, it's also an outlaw. It does not conform to industry standards. The armor is not segmented; instead, the mech wears a solid plate of deflecting armor. The speed is almost twice that of most other light mechs of its era. Also, with the charging function of its laser pistols, the mech can punch above its weight.
The young man smiled. He was achieving the expected result. "This time, we have decided to test this mech before we put it up for sale. To that effect, we at the Graese Monkey Workshop have decided to choose the test pilots among you, our dear patrons."
The announcement made the unruly patrons fall into disarray once again. They all wanted a chance to pilot the mech before anyone else. Scarlet intervened, with her bouncing ...personality, she scolded the crowd. They all regain their senses; some were even blushing in contemplation.
The young man continued with the event. "To select the 10 test pilots, we have decided on a lottery draw. This draw will be based on the people who have used the repair services we offer at the workshop. Awesome Man over there has provided a list."
Mark turns and points at Steve. "Awesome Man coud you do the honors, please?"
The avatar with a Tiger costume came forward. Steve then operated his VR menu and used a randomizer on the list he had created. A sound chimed in the background, much like the sound of a game show. The crowd waits by the edge of their seats.
Behind Mark and the teens, the screen changes to show an empty list with the numbers 1 through 10, a blank line on the side waiting for the winners' names. The first name comes out, Johnny's Seventh Son. Scarlet called for the player to join them on the stage. With enthusiasm, he complied and rushed to the stage.
The second name to pop out of the randomizer was Dan the Ghost Hunter. The fortunate patron jumped as he saw the Game ID. Before Scarlet could ask him to join, he rushed towards the stage. However, as Dan ran up the stairs, he stumbled on the first step and fell. The crowd exploded into laughter. Dan stood almost as fast as he fell; the only thing he bruised was his pride. He laughed awkwardly as he joined the first winner.
Third on the list was Rushing May. As Scarlet called her to the stage, the first female on the list joined the others. The happy girl had a joyful expression as she closed the distance. To avoid any mishaps, she slowed down as she climbed the stairs.
One by one, the lucky winners got to the stage until there were 10. The list displayed the Game ID of the ones chosen by the randomizer. The rest looked at them with envy and admiration. The list read as follows: 1. Johnny's Seventh Son. 2. Dan the Ghost Hunter. 3. Rushing May. 4. Kafka #8. 5. Asuka's Boy Toy. 6. Wolfman 1963. 7. My Solid Snake. 8. Daria the Jaded. 9. Lumberjack Logan. 10. Tabrina the Teenage Sorcerer.
Mark greeted them one by one. He addressed them in front of everyone. "Besides getting to test the mech before anyone else, you will also receive a copy of the machine free of charge once it starts production."
The crowd cheered once again. Perhaps the next time Guardian made a mech, their names would be on the screen, and they would get to be the lucky winners.
Scarlet waved her hands, calling for the attention of the patrons once again. "I know what you are thinking, you can't wait for Guardian to finish the next mech. Maybe then your name would be on the list."
The well-endowed waifu had a smug look on her face. With a mischievous smile, she announced a second new mech. "Well, today you are in luck! I present to you the latest creation of the Grease Monkey Workshop, The Nova Star!" With her hand, she gestures at the screen behind her. An image appeared, replacing the list of names of the first lottery. The image showed the Nova Star in all its splendor.
The pleasantly surprised crowd looked at the new machine projected on the screen. Its feminine contours and elegant design were displayed for everyone to see. Admiring the image on the screen, the patrons remained silent for a few moments. Then they started cheering once again.
Scarlet pointed at Alex this time. "Silent A, could you do the honors and start the lottery for a second time?"
With timid steps, Alex comes forward. Mark stands next to her, providing the teen with moral support. performing a motion with her blue gauntlet, she started the lottery draw. The crowd waited in silence for the first name to come out.
Another list of names showed on the screen. Ten other pilots stand on the stage, celebrating their luck. This event-generated hype will propel sales of the new mech variants produced by the workshop. Looking around him, Mark expected a torrent of TP in his future.
After the group of pilots returned to the crowd, Scarlet performed a song. To close the event, the girls from Colours came back to the stage. Jaune, Vert, Rouge, and Noir entretained the patrons once more. Overall, they achieved what they set out to do with the event. In fact, the event was a huge success.
Mark decided to leave the waiting room. He was going to the design lab to provide temporary permissions to the 20 test pilots chosen by the lottery. As he exited the event site, a call rang in his VR menu. He checked the caller Id and was surprised by the caller, Akaji The Crafter.
Mark answered the call. "Hey there, Akaji, how are you doing?"
Akaji was calling from outside A.M.S. this time; she was showing her real face. The moment he saw her face, Total Recall kicked in, and Mark recognized the woman immediately. The young man had met her in his old life; in fact, she was a very good friend.
After the orbital bombardment that destroyed Berant City without leaving any trace, Mark joined the remnants of the Rappal System forces. He met the woman before him there. Since he and Nivea Amarant were survivors of the Berant city massacre, they quickly became friends, joined by their grief and desire for revenge.
Her voice brought him back from memory lane. "Hey Guardian, did you hear what I just said?" She looked at him with a teasing smile. "Don't tell me that after seeing my real face, you are falling for me. Remember that I like girls."
Mark ignored her teasing; the young man was really happy to see her again. Remembering where he was, he quickly composed himself. "Don't be silly, Akaji. I was just thinking that you look a lot like your avatar. In fact, the only thing that you are missing is the glowing tattoos."
Leaving the teasing aside, Akaji repeated the words Mark ignored before while he was gawking at her. "There is a guy called GACT trying to buy our production contracts. For some reason, he is offering a ridiculous amount of L-Credits for them."
Mark felt like face-palming himself. "What is up with this man? He is becoming more than a nuisance now." He looked back at Akaji. How much did he offer you?"
Akaji recalled the conversation with the suspicious man. "He offered me ten million L-credits. As I said, ridiculous, the production contracts are worth ten times that. And in the future, the contracts would be worth even more. Because of that, I refused his offer."
Mark looked pensive for a moment. "I'd better talk to the others and warn them about GACT. With the new products, they would be able to get a lot more than 10 million L-Credits."
He ends the call with Akaji and dials the next partner of his production contract. In his opinion, Stingy Bob was the most likely candidate to fall prey to GACT's Scheme. Losing no time, the young man called him.
Bob answered as soon as he got the call. "Yes, Guardian, I want to produce your new mechs."
Mark was taken off guard by the way Bob answered the call. "That's not why I'm calling, but we will negotiate that on another reunion."
Bob was a bit disappointed by the answer. "Ho! How can I help you then?"
Mark issued his warning without a second thought. "I'm calling because there is a suspicious character trying to buy the production contracts that we have. At the moment, he approached Akaji and offered her 10 million L-Credits, but the truth is that the contracts will generate more value in the long run."
The man at the other end cursed. "That sleaze ball, he only offered me five. Did he really think I would fall for such a low number?"
Mark was surprised by Bob's response. "Did he already approach you?"
Bob answered the question with a bit of resentment in his voice. "Yeah, He came in yesterday with his bogus offer. I sent him away. It's only been about 2 days since we started producing your mech, but I have already generated nearly 22 million L-credits in revenue. His offer was ridiculous. Does he think I am an idiot or something?"
It was puzzling to see GACT's behavior, as if he had absolutely no knowledge of how the world of mechs worked. Who could this person be? He was not after profit, that much was clear. What could he want?
Bob's words derailed Mark's train of thought. "Anyway, if you want to add the new products to the production contract, I will not say no. As a matter of fact, I also want to produce your standalone weapons. With the new mech roles you announced in the event, I know that they will sell like hot cakes."
Mark decided to call Flint next; he was the last of the partners, and GACT would go after him next. "We will discuss the new terms for the production contract once the mechs have been tested. However, I will indeed add the new products to our production contract."
After ending the call with Bob, Mark called Flint. A few rings sounded before the dwarven avatar answered the call. His face showed guilt. Most custom avatars mirrored the players' facial expressions. "Hey there, Guardian, I was about to call you."
Mark's expression turned grim. "Don't tell me you sold the production contract."
Flint answered with a heavy heart. It was clear that he was forced to sell against his will. "No, I sold the entire workshop. I was given an offer I could not refuse."
A mix of anger and frustration showed on Mark's face. "It was GACT. He bought your store. Did he threaten you?"
"No, he did not. You deserve an explanation; it's only fair." The dwarf takes a deep breath before starting his explanation. "I have a daughter. She was born three years ago with a genetic condition. While my family has the means to pay for her treatment, the resources needed are scarce. At the moment, she was on a waiting list. GACT gave me the resources I needed for my girl's treatment."
Mark understood his position. As he heard the man's explanation, the anger he felt subsided, replaced by understanding. The young man would have done the same in his place. Having lost his loved ones in his previous life, Mark could not bring himself to blame Flint."
Flint's apology carried a sincere tone. "I am sorry it has come to this. I feel horrible for betraying your trust, but I had no other choice."
The young man accepted the apology. "I understand, don't worry. In your place, I would have done the same. Let's hope your girl gets better. We will find a way to deal with this." With this, Mark ended the call.