The Industrialist

He knew the markets, he knew the demand, and most importantly, he knew the buyers.

After the Tower Terminal 3, Lance took the tram, a bus-like train that passed along Mainstreet and towards the heart of Wraithport. Lance could smell the aroma that weaved through the openings of the Tram.

’Even the foods here are luxurious,’ Lance thought as he saw a series of pastry and bakeshops lined up along the boulevard.

’Someday, I will control factories,’ Lance thought upon glancing at an oversized logo of a cup and a toque, artistically combined in a circle and laced with neon lights on its edge. It was posted on the topmost part of a rectangular establishment wide enough to cover the whole city block.

He stopped at Junction Highway 15 as the Tram would travel deeper at the center of the Sector while he was headed to its outskirts.

Wraithport housed the largest Waste Disposal department accommodating three Eastern Sectors. A third of Wraithport had an aromatic smell of middle-end bakeshops and pastries but a quarter of the sector, facing near the Eastern wall heaved an appalling smell.

A smell that would sting your forehead as a metallic and rough scent would invade one’s nostrils. Lance was used to the smell, even in Steelpoint, the scent was sharper than in the Waste Management Facilities.

The Waste Water Management Department (WWMD) of Wraithport where Grebert was the plant supervisor was located in one of its facilities that covered six hectares of the sector.

Fortunately, Grebert was also responsible for the materials procurement and maintenance as the Mechanic Tier 3. Lance was lucky to have known Grebert for he was one of his major scrap buyers, not by Tyllrium but by rust-grade metal sheets for fabrications and pipe repairs.

The bakeries and other food manufacturing establishments were strategic to locate their facilities near the WWMD so as to easily dispose of their food and water wastes.

Wraithport city blocks near the WWMD had fewer citizens present on the streets. Mostly, citizens on this side of the sector did not give much attention to commoners like Lance.

Lance found a large digital advertisement that showed the new trendy shades that almost every inlander had their faces on. The shades’ frame was large enough to cover not only the eyes but reaching half of the forehead and to the tip of the nose and embracing both ears.

They were multi-colored and the users were very fond of having them. Some citizens used colors based on the day of the week that would complement the dominant neon colors used in inland cities.

"Glam your world! Unitech, a glimpse of the future." The Digital Ad screen announced after a graphic and artistically filmed advertisement.

Below the digital ad was a vending machine that stored the advertised trendy shades. Lance was curious; he stopped by the Vending machine to check on the displayed merchandise inside a metallic box as tall as his, with a transparent-looking glass that showed the merchandise inside, partnered with the same digital ad screen broadcasted above them.

They were colorful, indeed, and they came in different forms.

The price was 100 units each. The price was revolting.

"Remember master, you have less than 680 units. You spent some of it on transportation," Jasper suggested.

"Don’t worry Jasper. We are here on business. We will go home with more money in our pockets," Lance said.

’The price was absurd. This only portrays the obvious large gap between the low-lifers and mid-classers,’ Lance clenched his fist as he envisioned the Government’s cruelty, cursing in his mind as if facing the politicians.

Neglecting the hate, his emotions transitioned to what was in front of him. Nevertheless, he liked to explore. He must know the trend as one would always be informed of the new market demands, such as his profession would entail opportunities for sudden market variations.

"Units received, thank you, Lance Berkley!" An AI voice appeared from the vending machine as he transferred them online.

"570 units remaining, Master," Jasper reminded.

’Still, I can buy 2 months of groceries,’ Lance thought. But it was way below his emergency fund. Supposedly his emergency fund would amount to 6 months’ worth of groceries, amounting to 1,200 units.

But he only had below 600 units.

Banking on his farm and Tyllrium trading business, he would double his money within the month. Granting that there were no mishaps during operations, and anticipating that in every business, there were no perfect operations ever before.

The hatch opened and a robotic arm emerged from it. The metallic fingers unclasped and revealed a sophisticated box that had an embossed logo of Unitech.

Lance knew that Menks controlled Unitech. He knew that this merchandise had margins of around 50 to 60% of its price. Menks was becoming richer for every factory he oversaw as the law dictates – an adviser would have consultation royalties for every sold merchandise.

Lance took the box from the robotic arm, and the arm retracted smoothly back to the hatch. He opened the box and music used in the digital ads appeared. It continued its music until he took out the shades from its casing.

He wore it. It was comfortable and a cold mist experienced his face. Right after, the shades spoke with a series of options appeared in front of his field of vision.

"Scanning user," the female voice said.

"Cancel scan," Lance said. "Set user to visitor mode."

"Welcome to Unitech - Shades of the Future," The internal voice said.

"Features?" Lance asked.

"Displaying features. Unitech Shades will give you access to holographic advertisements and can conduct real-time transactions. Unitech Shades are also used in window shopping in accredited malls. Just scan the item and pay online, and the item will be delivered to you. Would you like to know more?" The internal voice responded.

"That’s fine by now. Activate features," Lance said as a prompt of the shades’ feature appeared in front of his view.

"Initializing..."

Then after a few seconds, everything blew up to his face like a surprise. As if another meta world had appear before his very eyes. Lance could access every holographic advertisement that could not be seen by the naked eye. The skies were filled with holographic advertisements but would disappear if the shades left his eyes.

The neon-lighted environment was immensely magnified to a level of one’s annoyance or delight. Lance was enchanted with what had transpired. Oldies for sure would have utter annoyance.

’Good way for marketing,’ Lance thought about his farmed Zelkians.

There are about 30 million citizens that live inside Axe Central City and about 15 million of them are commoners, 3 million are considered in between the fine line of commoners and mid-classers. 10 million were mid-classers and 2 million were considered high-classers.

He estimated about half of the mid-classers usually in the younger generations had the Unitech shades in their inventory. And he knew that most of the mid-classers were now buying Zelkians in the black market.

Lance had gooseflesh upon the thought of injecting his Zelkian farm production in the advertisement section covered by the Unitech shades – in the black market category of course.

Luckily, black market merchandise was not sanctioned by the Corporation and Governing Laws Department (GLD), especially the acquisition of Zelkians. Lance knew that even the upper echelons, or maybe the Politicians had Zelkian pets inside their mansions to safeguard themselves from Rattus harborage.

After a few blocks of walking and enjoying the holographic advertisements made accessible for him because of the shades, he finally arrived at a square concrete facade that had a neon-lighted label on top of the front metallic door - WWMD Facility 2.

"Like to speak to Grebert, please Mister," Lance politely said to the security guard, also a Commoner. A lot of commoners who were employed in the inland sectors held the lowest ranks up to a level lower than supervisors. Commoners were never allowed to handle mid-management jobs as such positions were prioritized for the mid-classers.

"What for, Berkley?" The guard asked, sitting idly on a chair beside the metallic door. He knew Lance due to the latter’s previous transactions with Grebert, despite, the guard had obvious unkindness.

"I brought Tyllrium samples for him. I heard he had a lot of changin’ to do," Lance responded.

"A sec," The guard pressed the digital intercom on his arm’s length, "For Sup’ here. Berkley. Said he has Tyllrium."

The intercom shrieked a female voice as it responded. "Let him in."

"Go on, kid," The guard said after he inspected Lance’s bag. The guard pulled out the Tyllrium and he was familiar with the component.

’" Samples," Lance said.