Back aboard the Sperm Whale in its dock, I pulled up my account balance on my handheld terminal.
The reward the merchant had transferred to me was already there. Including the hazard pay and the generous bonus, it came to about 30,000 credits. Coupled with the 2.8 million credits left over from the pure water sale, my operational funds looked plenty... on paper.
However, I furrowed my brows.
"Thirty thousand, huh..."
As a reward for a rookie mercenary, it was exceptional. Under normal circumstances, a few thousand credits would have been considered a good haul. But now that I knew the weight of the 2.8 million I’d made from selling "water," this somehow felt like pocket change.
"...Could you not simply sell more water?" Lucia asked, as if reading my mind.
I shook my head.
"No, that’s a double-edged sword. Once or twice, I can pass it off as an 'accidental discovery,' but if I start flooding the market, they'll definitely investigate the source."
"...True. If they performed a component analysis, the sheer impossibility of this ship's water purification system would be exposed."
"Yeah. Besides, if I get targeted by the underworld or corporate privateers, I’ll never be able to eat a meal in peace again."
The "water trade" wasn't a well I could keep returning to.
Earning through legitimate work was the right way to do things, but this 30,000 credits would vanish the moment I paid the ship's maintenance and running costs. If I just kept taking one-off requests, I'd be dying by inches. I needed to find a more efficient and, more importantly, safe hustle.
"Well, I'll worry about that later. First, I need to improve my living conditions."
I shifted my train of thought back to the task at hand: an investment in my quality of life.
"Lucia, search the market data. Category: Food. See if there are other things like those instant noodles—stuff you can eat just by adding hot water."
"Understood."
Lucia tapped away at the console. A few seconds later, the results appeared.
"...Hits found. There are many."
Various packages populated the hologram window.
Mogumogu Foods: Instant Pasta Manpuku Corporation: Galactic Risotto Okawari Industry: Dried Vegetable Soup Hokuhoku Science: Instant Mashed Potatoes
"They actually have them...!" I clenched my fist.
Just as I thought—I'd just been looking in the wrong places. Just because the "complete food" known as Tasty Cubes dominated the market didn't mean that instant foods didn't exist as luxury goods.
"However, Master, there is a problem," Lucia said, throwing cold water on my excitement. "Preparing any of these foods requires 'safe boiling water.' Currently, this ship has no heat source other than that 'Electric Kettle (Provisional)' you jury-rigged from scrap. Its insulation is poor; it wouldn't be surprising if it caught fire at any moment."
"...Right."
That DIY kettle was strictly for emergencies. It was far too sketchy for daily use. To live a decent life, I needed decent equipment.
"It's time for a capital investment, Lucia. We're bringing in the tools of civilization."
"Search criteria?"
"First, a Food Printer. Something equivalent to the model in that restaurant. If we have that, we don't just get hot water—we get actual meals."
"Searching... Hit found. Commercial high-end model 'Gastronomia Mark V' and equivalents."
A hologram window expanded in the air, showing a sleek white chassis with a sophisticated design. Below it sat the price.
Unit Price: 1,500,000 Credits
"1.5 million, huh..."
I crossed my arms. With my current savings, I could technically afford it. It would blow through more than half my assets, but if I looked at it as an investment in my health...
"...No, never mind." I shook my head. "I don't want to eat that 'too perfect Salisbury steak' every day. Besides, these things always have hidden costs, don't they?"
"An astute observation, Master. This price is for the hardware only. To actually output food, you must purchase dedicated Ingredient Cartridges and Recipe Data for each dish. For your information, the recipe license for the Salisbury Steak Set alone is 50,000 credits."
"That’s a total rip-off! Is this some kind of DLC business model!?"
Fleece the customer for the unit, then fleece them even more for the consumables and the data. And the end result was still that sterile, tasteless Polygon Food. It would be like throwing money down a black hole. Rejected.
"...Fine. Forget the printer. Let's go with a renovation instead."
I pulled myself together. If I couldn't rely on a machine, I’d just build a space for it. In the game, purchasing a Housing Module would instantly transform an empty room into a luxury kitchen or a bar.
"Look up adding a Kitchen Module to one of the empty sectors."
"Searching... Filtering for interior units compatible with the hull specifications of the Sperm Whale."
After a brief silence, Lucia displayed the results.
Ship Living Quarter Expansion Unit (with Kitchen Equipment) Estimated Price: 55,000,000 Credits and up
"............"
I was speechless. The number of digits was off by two.
"F-Fifty-five million? Why?! It was only 5,000 credits in the game!"
"Please do not conflate the game's economy with reality," Lucia stated flatly. "This ship utilizes military-grade armor and airtight structures. We would have to punch through those bulkheads, install new exhaust ducts and plumbing, and integrate fire control systems. It would be a massive structural reconstruction. If anything, 55 million is a bargain."
"Guh...!"
She was right. Her logic was so sound I couldn't even argue. The "installation" that took one click in the game was, in reality, a "major structural modification of a heavy vessel." It made sense. It was like trying to install a designer kitchen inside a submarine. Of course it would cost a fortune and take months.
Even though I had money—even though I had an amount that would make an average citizen weep with envy—I still couldn't afford a place to properly make a single bowl of instant noodles.
"...Haaa."
I let out a long sigh and looked down. My DIY electric kettle was rolling around near my feet.
I forced myself to think rationally. Did I really need a 55-million-credit designer kitchen right now? No.
What I wanted right now was to "safely boil water and eat my noodles." And once I was done, I wanted a place to dump the leftover soup and wash the container.
"Hey, Lucia. It doesn't have to be a full remodel." I looked up. "Just something that provides hot water and a drain. For example, if we just installed a sink unit with a water heater, how much would that be?"
"...Searching."
Lucia’s eyes blinked blue. This time, the answer came instantly.
"Hit found. 'Retrofit Multi-purpose Sink Unit (with Hot Water/Water Purification).' A simplified type that connects to existing plumbing. The price, including installation, is approximately 3,000 credits."
"...That’s the one."
I snapped my fingers. Three thousand. One-tenth of my latest reward. That wouldn't hurt my wallet at all.
"There's no need to cut through the hull, and it doesn't use open flames. The installation will only take about half a day. Master, this is a realistic choice."
"Alright, it's a deal. Order the best one they've got."
I grinned. A gourmet kitchen was a distant dream, but this would give me a "breakroom." There was no doubt my instant noodle life was about to get a massive upgrade.
"Understood. ...However, Master, may I mention one thing?"
"What?"
"Even with the sink installed, we have no stock of instant food. The products I searched for earlier were merely from general distribution data. To actually purchase them, we need to find a store that carries them."
"Ah."
Right. All I had left were the two bowls of scavenged noodles.
I'd done a little research on those specific Instant Noodles, and they weren't stocked in any of the local vending machines or general shops. Apparently, they were either ultra-luxury items or rare imports from distant star systems. It made sense why that pirate captain had kept them under such heavy lock and key. The taste had been in a league of its own, too.
Even if I had the setup, it was useless without the food.
"Time for a shopping trip, Lucia." I stood up. "While we wait for the sink to be installed, we’re going to scour this colony for anything edible. I’ve got the credits; I’m going to try everything they have, one by one."
And so, my modest yet grand "First Grocery Run" was decided. My destination was neither a junk shop nor a high-end lounge. It was the place where the common citizens went: the supermarket.