He moved on to a pawn shop specializing in jewellery and watches. He asked about a vintage Rolex Submariner in the display, listening as the broker detailed the minutiae of bezel fade, dial patina, bracelet stretch, movement servicing history – all impacting value. Enhancing the movement for +1 Durability/Accuracy? Again, plausible effect, impossible proof for an anonymous seller. He left, empty-handed and increasingly convinced that enhancing unique, pre-existing valuable items was fraught with difficulty. The beauty of the bikes and GPUs was their (relative) standardization, performance jumps were measurable against known baselines. Antiques were a different beast entirely.
Returning to his apartment, discouraged, he scanned the tech news archives, searching for updates on the 'Super 4090' story. He found it eventually, buried a little deeper now but still generating discussion on tech forums. "Nvidia Investigation Update: Sources Suggest Focus on Known Reseller 'Ricko Martinez'." Theo read intently. The article suggested Nvidia engineers were analysing thermal signatures and power draw data from returned cards, building a profile. They believed a significant batch passed through Martinez, a known high-volume flipper in the secondary market, and were reportedly trying to compel him (likely through legal threats to his suppliers or payment processors) to provide information on his source for the cards.
A cold smile touched Theo's lips. Good luck with that. Ricko probably acquired and flipped electronics through a dozen different untraceable cash deals a week. And Theo's own precautions, burner SIMs, encrypted comms set to auto-delete, cash transaction in a remote location, scrubbed forum accounts, felt robust. The firewall had held. Still, the close call was a potent lesson. His power was a nuclear option. The fallout, if it ever traced back to him, would be absolute. He needed to operate with surgical precision, leaving zero evidence. Manage the gift, he thought. Or it becomes a curse.
Thursday evening, while Theo was deep down a research rabbit hole exploring the market for vintage synthesizers (high value, subjective quality, niche experts… potential?), his phone buzzed. Sarah. He almost ignored it, still wary after their last meeting, but the message preview radiated stress.
Sarah: Theo! Okay, freaking out slightly. Just had another pointless meeting about 'synergistic restructuring'. My manager literally used the phrase 'boil the ocean'. I swear I'm losing my mind. I am this close to walking out and just going all-in on the cycling data idea. Am I crazy? Probably. Need a dose of your pragmatism lol. Coffee again soon? Please? My sanity may depend on it!
He sighed. Against his better judgment, a sliver of sympathy, or perhaps just curiosity about her project's progress, won out. Plus, he admitted grudgingly to himself, bouncing his own vague 'low volume' ideas off someone technically minded, even obliquely, might be useful.
Theo: Hey Sarah. Sounds like corporate hell. Don't boil any oceans. Yeah, I could do coffee tomorrow, same time/place? ('Corner Crema Coffee'?) But seriously, think hard before quitting in this climate.
Sarah: YES! You're the best. See you then!
Friday afternoon at the Corner Crema Coffee felt like déjà vu. Same corner booth, same background murmur, same faint smell of burnt sugar from the pastry counter. Sarah looked even more stressed than last time, dark circles under her eyes, but her energy surged the moment she started talking about her project.
"...and I've actually built a basic Python script to parse Garmin .fit files now!" she explained, gesturing emphatically. "The real challenge is creating a predictive model for fatigue threshold based on historical power and heart rate variability. If I could just get enough clean data sets…" She dove into technical details, sketching architecture on a napkin, her voice alive with passion, the corporate drone persona shed completely.
Theo listened, offering occasional technical prompts. Her enthusiasm was undeniable, a stark contrast to the cynical pragmatism that governed his own world. He found himself advising her on database choices, potential cloud hosting costs, even suggesting ways to approach beta testers through cycling clubs, practical advice he hadn't realized he possessed.
"You really think it's viable?" she asked, searching his face. "Everyone at work thinks I'm nuts for wanting to leave the 'security' of Meta."
"The idea has legs," Theo conceded carefully. "The execution is everything. But quitting your job now? Before you have a working prototype, user feedback, maybe some pre-seed interest?" He leaned forward slightly. "Look, Sarah, the economy is shaky. Tariffs are flying, markets are spooked, companies are laying off staff, your company is laying off staff. Having a steady pay check, even one you hate, is a massive safety net right now. Don't burn the boat until you're sure you can swim to the other shore, or better yet, have another boat waiting."
Sarah slumped back. "I know… practical Theo strikes again." She attempted a smile. "It's just… ugh." She sighed dramatically. "I need more coffee."
Their mugs arrived. Theo took a sip of his. Decent. Predictable. Sarah took a large gulp of hers, then made a face, coughing slightly.
"Blech! Dammit!" She pushed the mug away. "Totally burnt! Marco!" she called out half-jokingly towards the counter, "Your machine finally died?"
Marco, the middle-aged owner and usual barista Theo recognized from previous visits, grimaced apologetically from behind the large, gleaming espresso machine. "Sorry, Sarah! Tellin' ya, this thing's been possessed all week! Temperature's all over the place. One shot's perfect, next one's scorched. Parts on backorder 'cause of those damn import tariffs delaying everything. Driving me crazy!" He slammed the portafilter slightly harder than necessary.
Theo watched the exchange, saw the expensive but malfunctioning machine, the frustrated barista, the inconsistent output… and suddenly, everything clicked into place with the force of an electric shock.
Input. Coffee beans. Water.
Tool. The grinder. The espresso machine.
Output. The final cup of coffee.
Knives. Bikes. GPUs. He'd always focused on the output. Taking a finished object and applying his +1 enhancement as a final, value-adding step. But the power wasn't "make object better". It was "+1 Enhancement" to the object itself.