Chuck's ability was simple.
He could imbue items with Hardening, which was an all-round upgrade to all the properties of the material. It could simultaneously make it harder, tougher and lighter.
Thus, whenever Chuck was done with a new creation, he'd always make sure to imbue them - boosting their base properties.
With my skill, although it's not the most powerful, I can get an edge over other Mechanics. Chuck knew that if he had the same materials, time and skills as those prodigy Mechanics from the Capital, he could always make better products than them.
Well, perhaps not all. There were still monsters out there, like The Void-Touched Mechanic. But most.
This very skill, Hardening, was what he'd rely on to enter the Capital - in order to learn, earn money, become a better Mechanic.
And, of course, provide for his family.
Chuck always felt a strange, irrational sense of guilt.
I know I've been on the Border for decades... is leaving my friends behind for the Capital really the right choice? Thus repeated Chuck's internal thoughts as he continued to work on his masterpiece - a creation, which, once complete, could help protect the Borders much better. And I have to help my parents... Going to higher education and learning Mechanics sent them into unrecoverable debt. I have to help them as much as I can.
But, I... I love the Border. Defending it, keeping the City safe. Chuck clenched his fist. It's my pride and joy.
To any outsider, Chuck was a steady, reliable pillar who calmly supported the community. Only he knew that most of his waking moments were spent, thinking in spirals, thinking in guilt.
No, it's what I should do. I need to go to the Capital so I can learn better, which will help me make better things, which will help me help others better.
But isn't it selfish? Should I really focus on myself so much, just by using the excuse of 'I can help others better if I receive help"?
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he continued to add more details to his blueprints.
...
Ringgg... rrringgg....
The call didn't make it through. But that was to be expected.
Chuck is always such a hard worker. He's probably working on that masterpiece of his, I reckon.
Chuck's mother, Nancy Clements, was a deeply proud mother.
Even though their family wasn't well off, she could see how hard her son always worked. If only we weren't so poor. Then, my poor son could have the opportunity he deserved to be a better Mechanic.
Nancy could only lament within her heart. She knew that Chuck was talented, but without money, he never had the chance to go to those posh, fancy schools. Not even hard work could help.
They say that hard work beats talent when talent fails to work hard. But what if talent works hard as well? Then, there's nothing you can do.
But the saying wasn't entirely accurate. There is one more factor. Money.
With money, even if you don't work hard, going to state-of-the-art schools and learning would still make you smarter than someone who works hard. With money and talent, you could beat someone who has talent and hard work.
Unless you were a rare, extremely unteachable idiot, money could easily fill the gaps between your strengths, and greatly multiply your strengths.
Perhaps, money could be considered a type of talent?
Indeed, Mrs. Clements could only lament.
"You're calling the boy again?" Said Charles Clements, Chuck's father. "Come now, you know how hard he works. Let him do his job - he can visit us later."
Mr. Clements continued in a proud voice. "Just you wait and see! Once our boy's masterpiece is reviewed by the Mechanic Council, he can enter the Capital for free! It's best... to distance ourselves."
The Capital was the richest, most bountiful place in Central Cities. Everyone lived in pure luxury and wealth, almost a paradise on earth. Allegedly, there were no high-rise buildings over there. Instead, everyone had green lawns, large backyards, two-storey, proper houses, and trees.
The schools were apparently centuries ahead, where even the primary schools were equivalent to higher education in the outer areas of the City.
It could be said that the wish of everyone was to live in the Capital.
He smiled. "You know it, I know it. We're just holding him back. I... believe he will do well over there." With a sigh, he finished his speech. "So let's not bother him too much. Wait! Wait for him to visit next time, enjoy it, savour it. But before he visits by himself, why don't we just be content, knowing our son is out there doing great things."
Mrs. Clements nodded with a shaky smile. Yes. Chuck can visit next time... I'll gladly wait for as long as it takes.
She looked at a row of pictures on the wall of the shabby apartment.
Chuck, earning his first award in Arts and Mathematics, all the way back in primary school.
His medal for 1st place in the Engineering Competition.
The family photos.
Chuck, Mr. and Mrs. Clements together, in front of a candy stall. That night was a rare night of joy - it'd been Chuck's birthday, and, as compensation for nothing on his previous one, they'd gone to a night market.
Well, they didn't pay for too much, but still. It was one of the only times they had celebrated his birthday properly.
Yes. I'll just wait, as long as it takes. I'll wait for my son to come home.
...
Magnetic limbs or barbed claws?
Energy shield, of course... and wave emitters.
Chuck was busy mulling over the weaponry of his creation. To be more specific, it was a Mech.
Mechs were machines, usually piloted by humans, but could be operated by AI. Chuck had designed it for both - accounting for cost-effectiveness.
This particular mech was what he'd named The Bottomfeeder, though he hadn't made it official. Well, he hadn't even begun creating it at all.
The Bottomfeeder was his attempt to bring the fight to the monsters. While flying monsters could attack the Borders, there were also plenty of monsters which lived on the bottom of the City. Monsters like Scorpion-Spiders, which still weren't fully eradicated.
For many years, this idea wasn't original in the slightest. However, because the cost of creating a mech to attack the creatures living off the base was more expensive than simply piling bodies at the Borders, no one did anything.
To this, Chuck was displeased. After all, the No Kill rule had cost the City huge amounts of money, all for what? There were so many ways to bypass the blood detection, it seemed like it was created for some other purpose in mind.
As it was, the cost definitely outweighed the amount of lives it saved, and dismissing mechs which could save lives much more effectively, because of cost-effectiveness? Stupid.
But Chuck was used to creating things for cheap. He was confident that his mech could be made for cheaper than the turrets and walls of the Border, which would then allow the City to bring the fight to the monsters, instead of constantly being on the defensive.
With my designs, the City has no choice but to allow it. All I need are some final steps to perfect my blueprints. Then, I need funding and materials - hopefully provided when the Mechanic Council receives my blueprints.
Chuck wasn't afraid of it failing - he knew the designs were good. He wasn't even afraid of the designs being stolen! As long as they were used, he didn't mind who took the credit.
All for the City! All for the Borders! All for the people - the beautiful lives of the City-Continent which Chuck called home.
...
"THERE WE GO!"
Chuck had finished, no, perfected his mech design. All he had to do was submit it to the Mechanic Council for screening, and he could go to the Capital to study.
After all that ruminating, all the guilt he felt, all the indecisiveness he had... now, Chuck felt calm. There was no going back from here.
I'd love to stay, truly. I love the team, I love protecting the Border... Chuck reassured himself. This is for the greater good. Only with more knowledge! Only with more knowledge can I help those on the Border.
Mom... Dad... Chuck thought to his parents. I will make you proud. I will prove to you all that the money you spent on me hasn't gone to waste.
Life... is looking up for me. Chuck smiled with a sense of joy. All of his dreams seemed to be coming true at that very moment.
He could earn money for his parents - let them move out of that box of an apartment, and live in a proper place instead. He could save the Border once he got the funding to make some Bottomfeeders, and he could learn much more at the Capital.
BANG!
What was that noise? Chuck tensed in alarm. It sounded like... the noise came from the Captain's office.
More loud sounds ensued from her office. Crashes, yells, and loud talking.
Chuck heard a man's voice shouting at Noelle.
Then, silence.
Before Chuck could stop and think about what that might've been about, an alarm rang.
A level 4 alarm.
Damn it.
Cursing in his heart, Chuck left his designs and blueprints at his desk while he ran to collect his equipment. Rushing out the door with a few turret station boxes, he raced towards the Border.
Leaving behind the blueprints, the designs.
Leaving behind Chuck's Masterpiece.
Just like his parents, the blueprints waited patiently, faithfully, for Chuck's return.
The open door swung with the wind, almost as if inviting others to enter.