[b][X] - Ivory Crane, a monstrously huge paper odachi that is said to be crafted from compressed origami sheets. It is relatively lightweight for its enormous size but is considered to be unwieldy in close quarters. It more than makes up for it with a blade that can bisect a Stocker in half with enough force. It has seen battle with the edge have dulled over years of usage. [3][/b]

[hr]

You remember the time when you first received an Ivory Crane from your parents. These gaijin would never understand the history in its cracked pommel, the scratches on the tip that told of a thousand battles. You draw it out of its enormous scabbard, nearly as tall as you are, before shoving it into the bodyguard’s hands. It’s hard to let go, the comfortable grip parting itself reluctantly from your calloused palms. 

“ Be sure to take care of it.” Your voice takes on a warning edge. “ Lose it and your soul will be my refund. ”

“ Yeah, yeah.” The bodyguard points to the waiting line behind you. “ You’re not the only aisler in the Bargain Bin. Let’s skip the bluster and get to the part where you’re here for business?”  

“ And remember.” The other gruffly spoke. “ This ain’t the Stationary Department. No laws here, trials by combat, or tradition. All we care about is your price tag and what you’re willing to pay.” 

You walk past the both of them and stand atop the elevator. Your blade disappears from sight as you slowly ascend into the upper levels of the Shelf. From the platform, you see poverty stocked on every shelf in all of its forms. Aislers scraping by on expired Kelogg’s corn flakes and old bubblegum boiled in a stew. A table where people gamble over minute amounts of tic tacs over price tag poker. A group of bandits armed with toothpicks confronting a lone beggar. Murder. Violence. Survival. All the most primal aspects of humanity stocked on a shelf. 

You arrive on the highest level, the most opulent out of the entire Shelf. Instead of snack wrapper tents, these aislers could afford to shelter in the rare cereal boxes. You spot one distinct in the crowd, a 20 foot tall box that was labeled with the visage of Tony the Tiger, the muscled tiger god of the Cereai. The art depicted the deity flexing his ginormous striped biceps, veins popping out. The doorway was situated underneath his stretched out legs. 

You heard the sound of loud munching as you walked into the dingy cardboard box. The smell of curdled milk was thick in the enclosed space. You spot a stocky man sitting behind one of those old XL Barbie playset tables from the defunct Toys Department. Cut styrofoam pads covered his entire figure like makeshift armor, making a shrill ear-renting squeak everytime he moved in place. Sweat glistened down his shaved head. He’s not used to a climate like the Bargain Bin. No air conditioning meant that the temperature was on the fritz between warm and tepid hot.   He didn’t pay much attention to your arrival and was more engrossed in burying his face in the 3 foot long twinkie he has on the table. 

Behind him was a mammoth of a man. There was no doubt he could lift you up by the neck and pop your head like a can of soda. A coat of multi-colored feathers covered his entire naked back whilst a paper bag skirt made up his lower extremities. Your only assurance against him was the two-inch paper cuirass that hugged your upper body along with the massive pauldrons on your shoulders. You try not to let the massive industrial stapler gripped in his tattooed arm intimidate you. He leaned his neck down to take a look at you before gently tapping the shoulder of his boss to interrupt him from his meal. 

“ Well, well, look who we have here.” The man slid his twinkie to the side. “ You’re late. It’s rude to be late for a meeting.” 

“ I was held by the - “ You stop one word short of cursing the Smilers. With the presence of the Smilers here in the Bargain Bin, you didn’t want to take the chance that your client was a Smiler sympathizer. “ commotion.” 

“ The Cult of the Smiling One?” The man guffawed. “ Yeah, I can see that. They just came in a few days after the Spring Seasonal. Claimed to be on charity work to help out those who lost their Shelves during the Black Friday. By the time they got rooted here, the Department authorities couldn’t do anything.” 

“ But I digress.” The man leaned out to shake your hand. “ Name’s Haagen. Dark and scowling over here is Leash. Now….., do you have it?” 

You adjusted the angle of your body slightly to show the boxy package curled under your arm. The man’s eyes twinkled with hunger as you gave him the box, the table curling under the weight. 
“ Hmmmm.” His brows were furrowed as he inspected it closely. You could only make out some of his mutterings. “ Never said anything about Wal-Tech. I wouldn’t be concerned if it was Tupperware but biometric locks? “ 

“ Do you not know what’s inside it?,” you asked Haagen. 

“ I get paid not to know just as I’m paying you not to ask.” Once he was done inspecting, he nodded over towards Leach who produced a cooler from behind his back. He opened it and took out a clear bag, dangling from his fingers. “ As agreed upon, your reward.” 

Leach lobbed it over to your open hands. It’s cool to the touch, dew coating your fingers. You slowly open the ziplock, revealing to you…….

[X] - A Limited Edition Anniversary 2B Statedler Scrivener. Constructed out of space-age materials, this pencil is said to be able to keep its mono-molecular sharpness forever. Only 50 of these pencils were distributed during the Pre-Fall era and only the head members of the Founding Clans have each of one. The Scrivener is considered by many in the Wal to be a holy artifact and in the Stationary Shogunate, you will garner respect amongst your fellow samurai for having acquired such an artifact.  Be careful not to lose this. 

[X] - A premium Wal-Pachinko lottery card. Many an aisler died attempting to get their hands on a lottery card and fewer have found a usable Wal-Pachinko machine. If you could find a working Wal-Pachinko machine, you would receive treasures that the Tronic Temple would gleefully sell entire tracts of their Department to buy. 

[X] - A finger of the Great Sam.  Well, supposedly the Great Finger of the Sam. The bone has been separated at the third digit and it shines with an unusual yellow glow. Well, supposedly the Great Finger of the Sam. Your client claims it was in the contract. Maybe, it’s a scam. Or perhaps, it isn’t. Do you want to take the risk?