Mosaic City, located along China's coast, is quite large city sometimes called the Crossroads Between Nations due to its diverse population. While it was once a large tourist spot, the city was placed under a blockade as the military appeared claiming there was a radiation leak. The true hazard, however, is much more sinister.
From the pile and into the bag. From the pile and into the road. From the road and into the Gap, and there on would be the pile into the lady's hands. It was a simple formula that anyone with enough leg and arm muscle could easily accomplish. With the bag pack hefted over on Vice's back and the door more or less opened to him there wasn't really much reason to not just do this.
Pleasantries…he had some time for that but all he really wanted to was to get the cash and maybe a little extra for his efforts. There was still something he had to do after this anyway and he doubted making that person wait would do him any good.
"Sooner or later, I'm gonna need a better source of income."
It was really less of him griping and just being able to realise the fact that his equipment was slowly but surely becoming less and less practical on the fields. Vice understood the importance of equipment, having relied solely on them back when he had been a normal and all, and even if he had a persona now it wasn't like Arondight could block everything. He wasn't exactly the richest either which meant getting some of the best armour Laharl's smithy could offer was going to be a long road ahead of him. Shaking his head, and just hefting up the bag that carried the junk he had been collecting around the shadow lands, Vice mused that he'd eventually get lucky with the shadows some way or another.
Unfortunately, getting said equipment from the remains of humankind's enemy probably meant someone else had to die for him to pick them up. It wasn't exactly comforting. The thought, however, passed on rather quickly the moment Vice reached the same counter top to do the same thing over again. It was still something at least.
Vice had yet to actually find a different source of incoming since the last time he had been delegated himself to do this so he was back again, jingling the bag he had with him that carried quite a bit more stuff this time around than usual. The sky was doing that again too, where it was beginning to thunder a bit more than usual. Quickening his pace just a bit more to avoid the incoming precipitation, Vice finally managed to find some measure of safety inside the building where he usually had this transaction.
Going through the routine again, his head slightly spinning for one reason or another that he couldn't figure out, the young man waited for the inspection to finish in order to receive whatever spoils he could get this time.
It practically an automatic response by now. Everything was just on auto-pilot with the guy in charge at top just sleeping off a bad migraine from something. The body moved of its own accord, the mind no longer thinking about the actions. Pick up, rotate, toss in the bag. Pick up, rotate, toss in the bag. The process repeated itself over and over again without stop until a certain weight had been reached within the sack.
After the required weight had been reached, the surroundings then began to change from the dreary magenta to a dreary black, concrete walls lining up through something and the same usual light appearing at the end. The same counter that he'd seen so many times, numerous indents that no one bothered to look for having formed with the careless dropping of things on it. Vice didn't care though, and he doubted the trader was either. He was here for the trade off, just one last thing to do before going on another trip.
Vice was slightly impressed with himself. Diligently doing the same thing every week, even if it was off by a couple of hours, was still something he didn't think he'd be doing. It was practical, yes, and it was also useful, but even he had limits to the amounts of times he could be doing this. It wasn't like bringing in a bag of junk to the woman for some cash was a mandatory thing for him. If he wanted cash, then there were more fulfilling ways to do it.
Still, he did it because for one reason or another, there was always this small chance of maybe finding something good in the rubble. He could trade as much shit as he could, to get that one useful item for his expeditions in the outside. Besides, with how hard things have been as of late, having more useful things to use for himself or to give to the others would be a good thing. Shaking his head as he waited for the transaction to finish, the young man tried his best to just keep doing this. At least until he couldn't take it anymore.