Amano Ren's voice-mimicking trick came from a special ability gained after smelting the phone.
When he played music just now, inspiration struck. He realized he could rapidly convert voices into signals in his mind and copy them.
It worked.
He could record external audio, switch it into a signal, then reproduce it in his own voice with the original flavor intact.
The two signals were almost identical, though a little distortion slipped in during conversion and transmission.
That tiny error was negligible.
Still, certain people would not be fooled.
Daredevil, for instance, might hear through it.
The sound matched, but the feeling did not. Someone extraordinarily sensitive could spot the difference.
"We are here."
Ren stopped at a street corner.
Kate looked up and her voice shot high. "An insect shop? You like bugs?"
Ren raised a brow. "Looks like they scare you. I will step in for a bit. You can wait outside."
Kate hesitated. "I will go with you. Hold my hand. I am a little afraid of those things, and snakes too."
Compared to insects, she feared strange creeps jumping out from nowhere even more.
Ren laughed and waved to the distance.
A tall, broad woman strode over.
She nodded to Ren.
"Your protectee needs to wait outside for a while. Take her to the café we passed earlier."
The woman nodded crisply. Behind her sunglasses her expression stayed cool and severe.
Even so, she could not help asking, "Mr. Amano, how did you spot me?"
As a pro, she had stayed at least a hundred meters out.
"You think that makes you cool?"
Ren rolled his eyes. The stay-away look was loud and clear, and he could see every detail from hundreds of meters.
Truth was, he had tagged her by the signals moving through the air.
He not only traced her movements but also "heard" her chatter with Eleanor.
That was what confirmed her identity.
Eleanor suspected the earlier attack had been staged by a rival security firm.
They say colleagues are enemies.
What hurts a security company's reputation more than failing to protect its own founder's daughter?
Ren did not care for turf scuffles. All of it together would not compare to what he was about to do.
He cast an eager look at the insect shop, waved Kate along with the bodyguard, and went inside.
"Hello, sir. How can I help you?"
A shaggy-haired middle-aged man brightened at the sight of Ren. Business here was clearly not great, and his enthusiasm was a little much.
Ren ignored the over-the-top smile, swept the shelves, and said straight out, "Do you have green tiger beetles, bats, rotifers, leaf sheep sea slugs, sea urchins, Hercules beetles, ironclad beetles, pistol shrimp, mantis shrimp, planaria..."
"Hold up."
The man's face twisted between joy and grief. He even wondered if he was being pranked.
"Buddy, this is a bug shop, not an entomology lab. Even a museum would not stock all that at once."
"Like the emerald beetle, that is native to the Dragon Kingdom. Buffalo ants are in Australia..."
"Some are contraband too. Customs will not let them through."
Ren pulled a wad of cash from some pocket.
"How about now?"
The man's eyes locked on the money and did not move. "I remember now. I do have a few pieces. Rare items from my private stash."
Ren drew out two more bundles.
"And now?"
"Bro, even if I do not have them, I will get them for you."
He gritted his teeth. "I have channels. I can source what you want."
"Even the illegal ones... no problem."
Ren nodded and snapped his fingers. The man's phone chimed with a crisp DING-DONG!
"Everything I want is in the email. Bring out whatever you can supply right away."
"The rest, get it for me as soon as possible."
"Money is not an issue."
Ren took a seat without ceremony.
He laid a few more stacks on the counter.
"Your payout depends on your skill."
The man's eyes went red.
A whale of a client.
He had played with bugs for years. His wife had been scared off, the kids were gone, and even this little shop was about to fold. He was one step from the bridge underpass.
Now his bug hobby had finally turned the tide.
"Wait right here."
He all but fawned as he poured water, then slipped into the back. After a bout of clattering, he carried out several glass terrariums.
He winced with reluctance. "These are what you asked for. A few were not for sale... but you seem sincere, and you must be a fellow enthusiast. They are yours."
Ren glanced through them.
Two big ironclad beetles, three rhinoceros beetles, two Hercules beetles, plus several other scarabs.
A handful of spiders, including the famed predatory spider the black assassin sun-hunter.
And a few scorpions.
"Sir, these cost me..."
"Ten thousand. Will that do?"
Ren slid a stack across the table.
The man nodded fast. "Plenty. Sir, you are too generous."
"One more thing."
"I want the rest as soon as possible, the faster the better. Dead or alive, but I prefer live, and at least three of each."
"As I said, money is not a problem. I am on a tight schedule. Understand?"
Expression blank, Ren swallowed his excitement and took his time admiring the haul.
"Of course, sir. The customer is God. I will make it happen."
Ren nodded and pushed a few more stacks over.
"These are deposits. If it is not enough, tell me. My contact info is in the email."
"Remember, make it fast."
He did not explain himself.
In a world that worshiped money, no amount of talk worked as well as crisp bills.
The man bobbed his head and stared at Ren like a walking god of wealth.
The email listed nearly every insect family under the sun. Collecting them would cost a lot.
But with money, nothing was a problem.
He was going to make it big.
If he nailed this order, with a client this free-handed, he stood to clear hundreds of thousands.
What Ren planned to do with the bugs was none of his business.
Even if they were for releasing into the wild or sparking a bio invasion, that was the government's headache.
Probably they were for experiments. He could call it a contribution to medical progress.
The man hummed happily to himself.
Ren covered the load with cloth and strolled out with ease.
He looked both ways, hacked the nearby public cameras, and the black hole in his palm began to drink.
Watching it, Ren could not help grumbling. "You sound all high and mighty, but you still cannot leave my hand. Kinda low-grade."
[...] "Because you are weak."
"Lovely weather today."
Ren looked up. At some point the sky had clouded over, heavy and close.
For a second it seemed a few crows flapped past with harsh cries.