Ravensdagger_Kittypunk_Cyberpunk_Kitrpg

Chapter Forty-Eight — Pocket Test

Chapter Forty-Eight — Pocket Test The next day, or at least the next day's morning, was spent rigorously testing Sharp's new perk.It was... potent. But it was also not impossibly strong. I suspect that we had traded strength for utility with Sharp's choice, and that was totally fine.First, we looked up some ground rules for her ability.She couldn't reach into her pocket and pull out anything. No, instead, it seemed as though she had to either know which tool she wanted before reaching in, or have a clear idea of what task needed doing.For example, I had her fetch a set of old locks from a shoe-box tucked away in a corner. They were for lock-picking practice, but mostly they were just old padlocks to fiddle with.Sharp reached into her pocket and pulled out exactly the right kind of pick for each one of the padlocks, from rakes to ball picks. She confirmed to me that she had no idea what each tool was, or how it worked, exactly, but... well, the power seemed to supply what was needed.Later on, I confirmed it when I had her undo a digital clock. The screwdrivers she pulled out were always the right size, shape, and length.If I told her to pull out lockpicks for locks that she couldn't see, she'd usually pull out a set of them, with several different sorts. Likewise, she could pull out a multitool for other jobs with several different nibs on it.So the power wasn't prescient about what tool was needed. It would provide the correct one if Sharp could observe which tool was needed.When I pointed out that the manual screwdriver she was using had an electric version out there, she managed to pull out a small electrical screwdriver next.Looking at online catalogues of tools proved useful as well. Sharp went from pulling out simple, if usable tools, to some that looked like the higher-end, top-quality tools in the catalogues, with rubberized grips and small electric motors.The power was limited, therefore, to Sharp's imagination.Moreover, the tools summoned seemed real. They didn't just disappear. We had seventy-nine screwdrivers on the kitchen table at one point. They'd disappear only when Sharp shoved them back into her pocket.She could summon electric drills, kitchenware, lockpicks, crowbars, remote detonators... the list went on.However, there was a big barrier to her ability. Sharp couldn't just summon anything willy-nilly. She had to need that thing. Or she had to think she needed it.We only managed to summon that detonator after setting up a remote decoy 'bomb' out in the living room.Given a task that could use a tool, she'd be able to pull just about anything related from her pocket, but planning on doing a task wasn't enough.Weapons also seemed to be out of her reach, or maybe that was more of a mental block? She could summon up a kitchen knife to chop up veggies, but couldn't reach into her pocket for a combat knife.Well, that was fine. She could still summon up some related tools. An ammo-loader was within her range, as were sight-adjusters, even a rangefinder.The things she could summon weren't limited to the non-electronic. She could pull out a geiger counter as easily as a hammer. That could have some use. I didn't know if her tools were appropriately calibrated, but I think it was safe to assume that they were.One last, interesting detail was that her tools were never on-brand. A hammer with an identical grip as a popular tool brand would have its inset logo replaced by a similar one that just read Sharp.That could be a giveaway, in the right circumstances, but it still felt safe enough to use."I feel like I should... you know, do something with this," Sharp said as she tossed a pair of scissors up and down. We were making pants.Well, making was... a broad generalization. There was a laptop open on the coffee table and we had cloth out, as well as some sewing materials. Sharp was providing the needs and scissors and other smaller tools, even including a tiny handheld sewing machine that we'd seen a version of online.The goal wasn't a nice pair of pants, but one with massive pockets.It irked me to no end that even so far into the future, women's pants still lacked appropriate pockets.It was a clear oversight when Sharp picked her new perk, because it needed pockets to work.But what if the pocket was huge? She couldn't pull out a crowbar from a small one, but she could from the thigh-pocket of some old cargo pants. Would bigger pockets mean bigger tools?A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.It had to be tested."What kind of thing?" I asked. "We spend the morning testing things already.""No, I spent the morning testing," Sharp said. "You've been cuddling on the couch all day.""Hmpf. I'm grinding my Cat skill," I shot back. Sure, I was sitting between Mercury and Cyanide, the both of whom were quietly purring, but that was just my way of grinding up my skills. Also, it was warm and soft. Having a kitty on your lap was heavenly. Having two kitties smothering you while purring? God only wished they could have comforted this grandly.Sharp leaned back. "Fine, fine," she muttered. "But I meant more like... a job?""Another?" I asked.The pay for our last job had only just come in. After fees, material costs and expenses, it came down to a hefty six thousand or so dollars. That might have been a lot when I was much younger, but right now? That was about as much as what some lower-middle class sorts made in a month.Still a good amount, of course, but not enough to keep us going for long."I suppose a second job couldn't hurt. What kind of work would you want?"Sharp perked up. "What kind of gigs are available?""I have no idea," I admitted. "What's available changes nearly constantly, and it's rare that you'll find a repeatable gig. Though... sometimes, when a gang war is sparked, one side or the other will hire out. It's risky, however, but it does mean lots of work. Usually, repeatable jobs aren't considered gigs.""Then what are they considered?" Sharp asked."Jobs.""Oh," she said. "Wait!" She squinted at nothing for a moment, then nodded. "I need to bring up my lower-levelled skills. Cool is still at level zero! That's... kind of painful, actually. But Body and Reflex could both use a bit of a boost.""Hmm," I hummed. That wasn't a bad way to look at things, actually. "Give me a bit, I'll try to line something more physical up. Maybe some transportation work? Though... at that point, you might as well continue to work as a courier. I'm sure Malcom would hire you for more courier work. It's not great pay, but it means lots of moving around and some amount of physical labour."Sharp worked her jaw, then nodded. "Okay. I feel like I get a lot of experience and levels for doing a proper gig though. Like that last one? That was a lot of levels all of a sudden."That wasn't wrong. I'd gotten a decent boost at the end of that last gig. "Fair point. Let's lock you in for two days of courier work a week? I think that would be acceptable, and it'll give you lots of time to learn the city.""Learn the city," Sharp repeated. She thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. Anyway! My other skill that's low is Magic. It's sitting at one. One! I could have... like, spells and stuff! I bet I could count a wand as a tool.""Interesting point. Fine. Get the laptop over here. I believe that there are some open courses for young adults to learn the basics of magic. We'll sign you up for self-defence classes too."I had Sharp open up a calendar app, my old one, in fact, and then a second browser tab that we used to look for a few things."Monday and Friday can be your combat training days. We'll use Monday at the range, since it's usually a quiet day. Friday evening courses are pretty common for martial arts classes, especially lower-levelled ones.""Okay, okay," Sharp said."Tuesdays... hmm, courier work? We can lock in Tuesdays and Wednesdays for that. Two days a week of work shouldn't hurt. Which leaves Thursdays and Fridays for gig work.""Two days for gigs?" Sharp asked."They can take time to plan and prep," I said."Okay! That's fair. And the magic classes?"I considered it, then looked at the calendar. "We'll look for something on the weekends. Preferably on Saturdays."Sharp nodded and typed in the last options.

Monday

Tuesday

Wednesday

Thursday

Friday

Saturday

Sunday

Combat Training (Range day!)

Courier Work

Courier Work

Gig Day!

Gig Day 2!Evening: Martial art butt-kicking training!

Magic training! 3

"And... Sunday?" Sharp asked.""You'll need at least one day to relax... and clean the house."

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Chapter Forty-Nine — Mondays

Chapter Forty-Nine — Mondays It was Monday morning, which meant another day at the range.We arrived bright and early, unloading from an auto-taxi with a large duffel bag that I sat in so that Sharp could carry me about without much fuss. Being that it was so early, I might have expected the place to be closed, but Clemus wasn't that sort of man."Oh-hoh, so you're back," the old man said. He was sitting on his rocking chair, cane across his lap. "Well, here to plink a little more?""Yeah," Sharp said. "If you don't mind? I think I was getting somewhere last week, but I feel like I could be better!""That'll always be true. Well, an hour at the range is worth ten in the field. C'mon, the range is in use already.""Already?" Sharp asked.Clemus grinned, showing off a gap in his teeth. "Some folk take their jobs seriously, kid.""I'm not a kid," Sharp said. "I'm legally an adult in... a certain percentage of the states and corporate territories around here.""Kid," he repeated with a chuckle before he climbed up onto his feet with a grunt. "C'mon."I settled into the bag while Sharp followed Clemus. For all the weight the man put on being early to things, he certainly didn't walk with any amount of alacrity. That was fine, I supposed. The rate he charged for the use of his range was very respectable, and I trusted him more than most commercial ranges when it came to keeping information to himself.We were practicing with a new set of weapons today. The basic rifle, shotgun and handgun of last time were good to set up a baseline, but if I wanted Sharp to be competent, then she'd need a relatively wide range of experience with more than just a few basic examples of available guns.We were packing a submachine gun, a machine pistol, a revolver and a compact assault rifle today. And ammo. A lot of ammo.These were the kinds of guns that chewed through bullets. Honestly, we were going to burn through more money's worth of ammo today than Sharp would likely make this week.I knew being single and childless was worth it. Just one teenage girl was costing me a fortune. And we hadn't even gone to her first martial arts or magical arts classes."Here ya go, same box as last time," Clemus said as he stomped into the barn. The range was as empty as last time, which is to say that only one of the slots was in use at the moment.Sharp slowed down for a moment to stare. It was the same young woman as last time; a tall, long-legged blonde, wearing tights and a sports jacket. She was fiddling with the sight mount on a compact rifle. Adjusting it with a tiny screw-driver, then holding it up to her eye and scoping downrange before making another tiny adjustment."Got everything you need?" Clemus asked."Huh? Oh, yeah!" Sharp said. "Thanks! I'll pay on the way out again?""Yeah, you will," he said before nodding and waddling off.Sharp set her bag down and I hopped out of it and up onto the counter. She started to pull out guns and boxes of ammo and magazines that still needed to be filled. And then she pulled out something for me."Okay, don't fuss now," Sharp said."I'm hardly some stray cat. I won't fuss about protection," I said as I allowed Sharp to smush my face in. We had bought a cat-hat. It was an all black, rather warm, piece of stretchy cloth designed to fit around a cat's face, squeezing in the ears and allowing a discerning owner to attach all sorts of hats to the top.Mine had come with little flowers embroidered all around it. It was very cute.Of course, we weren't going to stop there. I'd ordered some noise-cancelling earbuds online. Good ones, with decent range around them that were meant to be worn around the back of human ears but which ought to work for me as a cat.Sharp and I had spent the evening sewing some pockets into the cat-hat to fit them in."Alright, here goes," Sharp said as she pulled out a phone. A moment later I heard... not too much of a difference, really, as she activated the noise-cancelling via bluetooth. "Does it work?""We'll find out once you shoot a few times," I said.This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.Sharp nodded quickly, then started loading up the rifle's magazine. We'd brought two, so that she could practice rapid reloading. Having her manually reload every one after emptying them would be a chore, but we would be here for a few hours, and it was good for her to learn how.If she was ever caught in a firefight and needed to reload mid-battle, I'd want her to know how.Plus, she cheated by pulling out a load assist from a pocket and slotting it over the magazine.Once it was loaded, Sharp went to the edge of her booth and shouldered the rifle. I sat next to the controls for the plinking targets and tapped my paw against the ten metre marker, making it spring up down range."A little more forwards. Move your right leg back a tiny bit. That's right. You'll want to feel the recoil and imagine it travelling through you and down your leg."Sharp took a shot, then glanced at me.I nodded. The noise-cancelling worked. Her aim didn't. She kicked up dust a few metres past the target.But that was fine. I was having her use nothing but iron-sights for now. They were better at helping her understand the entire concept of bullet traversal. Fancy sights were for people that needed to compensate, didn't have good training, or who needed that extra bit of accuracy. Not that I'd fail to use them myself. Any tool for the job.I had Sharp run through aiming drills until she could hit the target nine times out of ten, then it was quick reload drills between full-auto bursts. Her aim worsened there, but not by too much. She was getting the hang of it.So I shifted to her aiming as if there was a wall in the way. Lean fire, firing on one knee, and eventually I added a second target at the twenty-five metre mark and had her switching between the two.Then we ran out of rifle ammo, and it was time to switch over to something else. I chose the revolver. It was lower and one-handed, which would throw her off before we tried something like the SMG."Urgh, this thing sucks to reload," Sharp said. She stuck her tongue out between her teeth and fiddled with the catch that allowed the cylinder to slide out. Then she fumbled some bullets into place."Yeah, revolvers are like that. I'm surprised that anyone would still practice with them."Sharp jumped, and I carefully turned and glanced up at our interloper. The blonde. She had a bag slung over one shoulder, and her booth was cleared out. I hadn't noticed her finishing up, which was careless of me."Oh, uh, hi!" Sharp said."Hi," the woman replied. She grinned, then reached over and turned her hand palm-up close to me. "Nice cat. Well-behaved... I think? Is he... she friendly?""Sometimes," Sharp said.I wanted to roll my eyes, but that wasn't what a normal cat would do. Not that there was too much hope in passing off as entirely normal already. Normal cats didn't stand quietly in the middle of a gun range like I'd been doing. Or had clothes on.I sniffed her hand, then touched it with the side of my face, which was incredibly awkward. The woman's smile grew and she started to stroke my back. "Aww! You must be some sort of warlock, then?""Uh," Sharp said."That's cool. I saw you here last week. Is old man Clemus taking on a new apprentice?""Oh, no," Sharp said with a shake of her head. "I'm just, well, trying to learn how to defend myself?"It was a lame excuse. Someone learning self-defence didn't show up with this many guns and this much ammo.The girl raised one eyebrow at that, then shrugged. "Good to see someone around here in any case. Old Man Clemus gets lonely. Though, uh, don't let him know I told you that?""You know him well?" Sharp asked. "Is he your grandpa?"She laughed. "Great-grandpa, more like! Nah, we're not related by blood. At least, I hope not! I'm his former apprentice.""Oh! So you run your own range?""Uh," the woman said. "Yeah, something like that.""You moron," I said. "Clemus is a retired sharpshooter-for-hire. If she's an apprentice of his, then her job is to put lead in people's heads for cash.""Oh," Sharp said. "So, are you an edgerunner? That's so cool!"I sighed. This idiot.

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