The Mechanical Era

12th of Procidens, 5018.

It was a little late at night.  Marco and Vice were walking down the near-empty streets of Hoverdam. They can see businesses closing down, as they were preparing to go to sleep. Marco was seen carrying a briefcase with a bunch of silver coins safely stored in it, strapped to his hands with a pair of steel handcuffs, to ensure it won't get stolen.

Recently, they had been getting harassed by a few notorious individuals, who appear to want to take them down by one means, or another. Though they have alerted the authorities, the two don't feel safe, walking around their own city.

To add insult to injury, their rivals have been seen copying their own strategy, by renting up newer places and providing them with the seats. Although their quality was noticeably lower, they had lost a few customers because of it.

The two soon approach a tram station and wait for a tram to come. Once they see the red dragon make its stop, they enter an empty compartment and sat down on one of the benches. There, the two discuss their future plans, for how they could move on from his business.

"We made a lot of money, haven't we Vice?" Marco asked.

"Yea. We have. Barely a month in, and so far we have safely made about... 140 silver coins in total, I think. Pretty good for a for our age, isn't it?" Vice replied.

"Well, that would mean if this goes on for a few months, we can both easily walk away with 500 silver coins or 5 gold coins. However..." Marco turns to face Vice.

"What then?" he asks. Vice thinks about Marco's question, before answering.

"I... I don't know. I guess we should wait and see. Maybe we can find another opportunity." Vice replies.

The tram soon arrives at their destination, where they drop off. The two then head to the bank and cash the money in their bank accounts. Once they cash in, the two leave the bank, just before it closes down for the day.

The two then start to walk down the streets, back to the tram. As they were on their way, Marco and Vice hears the sound of the bell, with a man yelling,

"Move out of the way! I am coming through!" The two immediately look back and see a tall man riding a weird vehicle with two steel tires, zooming at them at high speeds. The two move out of the way and stares at the man, who continued to ride down the street.

"What the hell was that? What was that man riding?" Vice remarked. Marco stayed silent, just looking at the man who rides away. In his head, he was forming a sort of idea, and about its potential of it.

"Hey! Watch where you are going!" Vice called out. Just before he wandered off, Marco yelled as well.

"Hey! Wait a minute! What are you riding?" he asked. Marco's question, however, appeared to have landed on deaf ears, and the driver just biked away. Vice come up to Marco, and asked him what was that about.

"What was that about?" Vice asked.

"That thing... I..." Marco turns to face Vice.

"I think we found our future business venture," Marco answers confidently.

13th of Procidens, 5018.

It was early morning. Vice stood by the tram station, waiting for Marco to arrive. The two had got back to their respective homes and promised each other that they would meet up. Vice turned his head to the sun-dial, to check the time.

"Looks like he is running late," Vice remarked. A few minutes pass by, and only then, Vice sees Marco running straight toward him, wearing his normal hemp clothes like Vice.

"Hey! Sorry I am late! I got caught up because of my family," Marco explained. Vice, however, having been forced to get up earlier than usual, thought of it as Marco's excuse for being irresponsible and coming late.

"Alright, sure buddy. Sure." The two then sit on the bench and wait for a tram to come around. The two were headed to the Patent Registrar. They wanted to find out what that contraption was, and they came up with a plan to find out what it was.

Their plan was simple. They were going to describe the object to the receptionist. They then hope the receptionist understands what they are saying, and hands over the patents for them to look. Once it is confirmed that it is the device, they will look up the owner of the patent, and head over to his home, which normally, is also where people put up shops.

The tram soon arrives at the station, allowing the two to quickly arrive at the patent registrar. They walked up to the receptionist lady, after she yells, "Next."

"Hello... sirs? How may I help you both today?" she asks the two, all while keeping an apathetic tone to her voice.

"Um... hi. We want to look up a patent, but we don't know the name, but we do know what it looks like! So, I was wondering if you can help us out?" Marco questions.

"Can you please describe this device in detail, sir?" she replies with her own question.

"Right! You see, it has two wheels, and the frame was mostly made of metal. It had one guy riding at it, and he controlled it using some... handles, I think? Something like it," Marco replies.

"Wait right here, sir." The woman goes to the back and disappears for a minute. She then comes back holding a file and presenting it to them.

"Here you go sir, tell me if this is what you both had in mind."

The two open the file and skim a few pages. They come up to the blueprints, where they examine the drawing. The blueprint features a complicated drawing of a bicycle, with two steel wheels, and a frame, mirroring the contraption they had saw before.

Marco took his eyes off the patent and faced the receptionist. Then, after placing a smile on his face, he thanked the receptionist.

"Yes. This is it. Thank you, ma'am." Marco replied.

"You are welcome. Now, do you want to take it home? Because that will cost a pretty penny." she questions the duo. The two nods sideways.

"Oh no! We just want to be the inventor. You see, we think we saw him yesterday, and we wanted to talk to him about it." Vice replies. Upon hearing their answer, the receptionist's eyes slightly open wide, as he gives them a slightly puzzled look.

"You two want to talk to the king?" she questions the two.

This chapter upload first at NovelBin.Com