-TRY 1
"Don't touch that," the merchant warned as my hand neared the intricately designed sphere, with the cobalt-blue metal reflecting everything. "A priceless artifact from Earth," he continued, slightly annoyed that I didn't ask why.
Obviously, I tried to grab it. Even inches away and through my gloved hands, I could feel the cold of the metal.
The merchant, with all of his bionics and computer systems wired into him, knew this before I even came here. His gun was already in his hand under the counter and shot a slug of superheated plasma.
-TRY 7
"Don't touch that," the merchant warned, and I immediately retracted my hand. He was a bit surprised and assumed his normal slightly-too-perfect smile. I wandered around the shop for other details I could glean. Dr. Chenski is literally going to murder me a million times if I don't do this, as he thinks cheating in a casual game of poker with "high" bets is unacceptable. Hard-ass.
I'm wondering why such a high-class trader is on such a deadbeat research planet. The fruit here is to die for, but you can always export it. He's probably here to smuggle some illegal technology.
Speaking of illegal technology, have you ever heard of a multiversal groundhog day device? That was the bet Dr. Chenski put in, as he was completely certain he'd win. He then figured out I won. And here we are, stealing an artifact older than anybody alive.
I walked back to the device and asked what was so useful about it.
"This 'just a damn sphere' you speak of contains all human records of a continent called 'Oo-star-lie-a.' That information is worth fighting wars over." He answered, proud of the fact. He took a sip of a drink that was just asking to be poisoned which gave me a rather nefarious idea.
-TRY 8
A few hours earlier, I was surveying the area. I wondered where he even got the drink from, but I have all the time in the universe to find out. I saw him setting up his shop with a tent made of polished metal and white sheets, putting down a cup of something. I would tell you the several hours of boring waiting, but that doesn't deserve to be in the story journals of the legendary Yamada! As he is helping out another customer, I slip a paralytic agent into his drink that smelled faintly of citrus. There is no way this plan could fail, as it was foolproof.
-TRY 16
Apparently, his bionics detected the poison. That's embarrassing.
New plan: hack into his systems and turn off the bionics. It's genius, completely fail-proof.
-TRY 917
I cannot hack. At all. I resorted to pressing random buttons and hoping they'd work- why? Why did I force myself to do this?
Wait.
I just had a completely, 100% foolproof idea that has no chance of failing. I fucking shot him. Then just took the artifact. Whatever, I did it on the first try which is quite impressive even for the legendary Yamada.
-TRY 3059
Have you ever tried to play one of those ancient video games from Earth? There was something called "save-scumming," and I am definitely doing that right now. Have you ever murdered a galaxy-renown merchant who just so happens to keep such a dumb grudge? No? Just me? Well, trust me when I say this: it sucks. Constantly being on the run where you can't even take time to smell the roses or snort the drugs is no way to live. I want you to know I love you, but it all just has to end. I cannot live like this.
-TRY 3060
Well, you can't suicide.
I'm just going to let Chenski do whatever he wants. I can deal with that, probably.
Update: Dr. Chenski says he was joking. He gave me a defective device that somehow worked, allowed me to install that defective device, and let me use the defective device to steal something from a merchant. Fuck you, Chenski.
This is the legendary Yamada signing out.