There are a dozen elf run computer and laptop repair shops on the far reaches of this silicon gigahertz paradise - just at the "unwanted" portions; edges of (glory?) the main floor space. Well they look pretty decent, though the staff's over-friendly "hi can I help you" might tend to frighten some instead of inviting potential customers. Mainly these shops are run by Pakistani, Indian, and Middle Eastern bosses and staff. Very sure it is a lucrative business to dabble in the dark arts of repairing, slicing, Existenz-esque kind of chop shop - since surely there is a demand for these, and "ancient" ones that are still sought after in their homeland.
There was this case of a China businessman. Well perhaps a scrap collector. Who started collecting "pager" - that ancient device that beeps you to call the beeper back. Yes, you have to fork out some coins to call back someone at a "PAYPHONE"(!) who had just beeped you - whoever it is, it's a number and perhaps a few lines of text. Outrageous? Unbelievable? Then you're certainly born in Generation Z.
Back to the storyline: he collected all these thrash that the golden cities of the east do not want, and then pack them on his saddle and along with 7 swordsmen of Huashan, rode West. West to the mountains of Shangri-la, to land of the barbarians, outcast, pirates (aka. South West China, and to a certain extend South East China which most of your ancestors came from too! I know you readers!).
He made 398 million dollars.
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