Capítulo 11: "Merchandising Conception"
The first few days after the deal with Krombopulos Michael had been a whirlwind. Sure, I now had 12,000 flurbos in my account, and I could afford plenty for my future tech, but I wasn't stupid. Money was just the first step.
What good was having a small fortune if I couldn't sustain it? What if the next deal fell through? What if Krombopulos Michael had a bad day and decided to vaporize me for trying to pull a fast one? No, I needed something more solid. A foundation. A way to keep making money consistently, not just through shady deals that could vanish as quickly as they appeared.
The idea had been growing in the back of my mind for days, to funding my own research, to building my own experiments and inventions.
To become someone who could shape this universe and survive all the more easily, I'd need to be the architect of my own future and create a business.
I needed a stream of income. A system that would provide me with enough resources to fund my own science—the kind of science that would surpass Rick's, the kind that would change the course of history.
I stood in the middle of Rick's garage, he'd left out for a second heading to retrieve something. "Ship," I muttered, staring at the AI interface. "Help me find a more reliable way to make money."
The ship's soothing voice responded almost instantly. "I have several suggestions. Would you like to establish trade agreements with known suppliers of military-grade technology? Or perhaps set up a weapons manufacturing operation?"
I smiled. "Exactly what I was thinking. Set it up."
Weapon manufacturing. Of course. The idea was staring me in the face the whole time.
I didn't need to be a genius to understand the power dynamics of this universe. The people with weapons were the ones who controlled the power. A reliable stream of weapon sales would not only keep the cash flowing, but it would give me leverage—leverage I could use to expand my operations, fund my experiments, and eventually build a reputation that would rival even Rick's.
I turned back to the ship. "What kind of weapons can I make with what I've got here?"
"With Rick's current stash of materials," the AI responded, "you could create a range of products, from basic blasters and explosives to more advanced experimental tech. Given your access to Rick's designs, there are also prototypes that could be easily mass-produced."
That was exactly what I needed. I didn't want to just sell one-off weapons to random buyers. I wanted something scalable. Something I could manufacture in bulk, distribute across the galaxy, and create a constant flow of income.
"Okay," I said, a plan already forming in my mind. "Set up a weapon manufacturing operation. I want to start small, but make sure it has room to grow. Focus on high-demand, low-cost weapons. Simple, but effective. Things that can be mass-produced."
The ship's AI hummed in agreement. "Understood. I will begin setting up the necessary infrastructure for production, including supply chains for raw materials and a distribution network. We will start with basic energy weapons and explosives, then gradually expand into more specialized arms as the operation grows."
I nodded, already feeling the excitement of a new venture coursing through me. This was it. A business that would keep me flush with funds while I built my tools to continue in this world as strong as possible. And best of all, I could use the wealth and leverage I gained from it to prevent low lives from trying to attack me.
The real prize was what I could create with all that money—the inventions and experiments I could bring to life once I had the resources. I wasn't going to stay stuck in Rick's shadow forever.
The AI continued, laying out the logistics of the operation. "For a smooth start, I recommend we establish initial production on a private, low-profile asteroid. It will allow us to build the infrastructure we need without attracting attention. Once production is up and running, we can begin contacting potential buyers in the black market."
I paused. "You're right. But I recommend keeping it here close by, start with production first". Although I wanted to start now I knew it wasn't the write time Rick and i'd soon switch universes and with that my business would completely fall.
The AI processed this. "Perhaps I'll start with production and the branding. I'd need something that speaks to the kind of weapons you'll be producing."
I thought for a moment. "What about 'Morty's Arms'? It's personal, but it gets the point across. And it sounds... menacing enough."
"Morty's Arms," the AI repeated thoughtfully. "It has potential. I will begin branding materials for your new business and establish the necessary communications channels."
I grinned as the AI went to work, already initiating the process of setting up my new business. While it was busy with the logistics, I took a moment to let the reality of it all settle in.
I could survive as long as I planned accordingly and developed before the story could swallow me hole I'd live. As this thought came to mind I suddenly blacked out falling to the floor, a mysterious power engulfing my body as I layed.
----------------------------------
I woke up with a jolt, my surroundings unfamiliar. The soft, low hum of Rick's garage was gone. Instead, I was sitting at a desk in a classroom, surrounded by rows of students scribbling away in notebooks. The harsh fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. I rubbed my eyes, trying to focus as the world around me snapped into place.
My stomach sank. This wasn't right. I was back in school. I glanced around, seeing everyone in the class stare hard at me.
I was about to say more when I heard a voice from the side, close enough to startle me. "Hey, Morty, you alright?"
Her eyes were wide, strangely intense, and she looked at me like she knew something I didn't.
"Uh, yeah," I said, trying to hide the unease creeping up my spine. "Just... feeling weird, y'know?"
Jessica leaned in closer, with a sterile smile on her face. "You seem tense, Morty. Maybe a squeeze would calm you down?" she said, making it clear as day what she meant by squeezing her arms together.
My mind immediately raced what'd happened I'd suddenly been transported into the classroom. And everyone was acting. off?
"Morty, since you seem so distracted solve this problem on the board." Mr. goldenfold said cockily.
It was a simple question, to simple. "uhh, 2?" I said mostly confused, Everyone started wowing in amazement all having the exact same faces plastered.
"Wow Morty your better than I thought, but can you solve this?" He wrote down a new problem spelling it quickly 'The formula to Dar-'
Rick suddenly appeared hoping in from the window "quickly Morty answer the question!" He rushed, but It was to late.
I question the situation but everything was starting to make sense now "Rick whats going on everyones acting wierd." I told him, injecting fear into my voice.
Rick's hand grabbed my shoulder, pulling me back to focus. "That's exactly the point, Morty! They're messing with you. It's a trap. And the only way we're getting out is by not falling for their tricks. Don't talk to anyone but me. Don't trust anyone here. It's all fake."
I nodded in agreement, "Okay Rick" then he suddenly pulled down my pants, "Run Morty!".
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