Simon was over this meeting. Botrelle was out of here, and so was he. He didn't care much for what the others had to say anyways. He propped himself up, getting himself out of his chair. He was going to need to do 'it' again. He walked a different way than he usually walked, meeting a strange man in an alleyway that Simon to all too well. 

"The price has gone up pal. Your going to need to pay more to get the best, it's not cheap to do this, and there is plenty of risk involved, you should know that as a buyer. And if you won't pay, you won't be getting any of my supply, get it pal? It's going to 120 a gram, and I'm bringing 5 in an hour. Meet me by the square, I'll be waiting Mr. Henderson." Simon was very harsh in his tone. He couldn't be nice when he was risking so much. 

"Yes...I understand," the man coughed, his shriveled, scraggly face shaking, "It will be hard to get any money Mr. Einstein, but I'll try to scrounge up something. I'll be meeting you in an hour."

Simon encroached on his living quarters, grabbed a large bag, and started to stuff beakers, tubes and other chemical storage into it. He also grabbed some tubing and wires with a bag of cough drops. He then went into an abandoned warehouse he had been using on and of. He needed some privacy, and at the edges of the city, this is where he would get the most possible. Simon dumped out everything, and laid it all out. Everything was ready for the work. He pulled the psuedoephedrine from the tablets, leaving only a powder in the bag, and putting what he was controlling into a flask. He then pulled the oxygen atom from the molecules. A blinding flash and sizzling sound ensued. He jumped a little, but he had done this before. His breath was unsteady, his life would be over in a second if this went wrong, but he knew nothing could. He went through the rest of the process and poured what he had on a sheet, letting it all dry. He then looked at it very closely, looking, and feeling for imperfections. This was his best batch yet. Simon scraped it all off, weighed them, and stored them all in bags. 

His spine shivered. [url=https://youtu.be/ISA244jTfQ0?t=22s]A song came to his head[/url], it was all he could grasp to keep his sanity and turn himself in. He didn't like doing this, but a part of him, deep down, enjoyed it. The yelling. The cooking. The killing. He brushed that part aside, and checked in his bag again. Everything was there. 

When he strode into the square, there were two guardsmen, and he shivered. It was still day out, even if he thought it had been all day. He was there. He hands shook, it was happening. He sat down next to the man, and murmured. 

"You have the cash? I got the stuff."

"Y-Yes I do, all 600." he was as shaky as Simon was, but much more apparent. 

"Good, this will be simple then. You give me the cash, I give you the supply."

The man, seeming very reluctant, pulled 6 100 numerals out of his pocket, and handed them to Simon. Simon tipped his head, counting the bills, and stuffing them in his pocket. He pulled a bag of white crystalline substance out of his pocket, and handed it to the man. Simon immediately walked away. It felt like stares were just scrubbing him, looking for any sign of hesitation. His mind was racing. 

By the time he got home, it had only been a few hours since he went out of the meeting, but it felt like all day. He went over the bills in his pocket. Success. He would do this a few more times and be covered for a while hopefully. He went out a few more times, making a few more deals, and went to bed, without even thinking. It was so laboring for him to do that, but he did. He had to. 

[i]Just a part time job[/i]