After this painful incident, Rowan became considerably more cautious about potential dangers. He now wants to prepare some proper weapons to protect himself effectively. If he ran into unreasonable or violent passengers again, he could "reason" with them properly, only using force if necessary.
Liberty City had legally licensed weapon shops operating throughout the city, though government regulations meant they could only sell small weapons to ordinary citizens without special permits. Looking at his phone's map, he drove to a small weapon store marked in the commercial district.
The shop wasn't particularly large or impressive, but it was decorated exquisitely, and a huge illuminated sign hung outside advertising its wares. The owner was a kangaroo man, excessively muscular, his entire body packed with bulging muscles that strained his tank top. A lit cigarette hung casually from his mouth, smoke drifting upward lazily. He wore dark sunglasses covering half his scarred face, looking extremely arrogant and unapproachable.
When Rowan entered through the door, triggering a small bell, the owner didn't greet him warmly or even acknowledge his presence initially, only saying coldly without looking up: "What do you want?"
Rowan thought privately that his terrible attitude was absolutely awful for business, a real "buy it or leave" hostile vibe that would drive customers away. How did he make a living treating people like this…? He only complained inwardly, though, wisely keeping his thoughts to himself. The shop owner looked genuinely dangerous and intimidating.
He looked around the modest shop carefully, examining the inventory. Clubs, wooden sticks, various knives, heavy hammers, and even industrial screwdrivers were displayed on racks.
He frowned in disappointment. That's it? Is this supposed to be a weapon store or just a hardware store?
He picked up several weapons, testing their weight and balance. "Boss, you got anything stronger than this basic stuff?"
"What, you planning to rob a bank or something?" the kangaroo asked suspiciously, finally looking at him.
"No no, just for self-defense purposes," Rowan assured him quickly. He thought indignantly, how could he ever do something so blatantly illegal? He was a perfectly law-abiding citizen who just happened to fight people and evade traffic fines.
The owner said nothing in response but nodded meaningfully toward the wall behind him, drawing his attention to it.
Rowan noticed some premium items hanging there that he'd initially missed: dwarven-made pistols with intricate engravings, enchanted baseball bats crackling with energy, chili smoke potions in glass vials, level-1 protection sigils glowing faintly…
Not tremendously powerful by any means, but at least somewhat lethal and useful.
[Cash -500] [You obtained: Enchanted Baseball Bat] [Cash -2000] [You obtained: Level-1 Protective Barrier]
Level-1 Protective Barrier: Reduces incoming damage from basic physical weapons significantly.
The dwarf-made pistol was far too expensive at 5K, so he reluctantly left them in their spot. These two items would be sufficient for emergency situations.
But he still wondered curiously where the really strong weapons came from; he'd seen freezing grenades and shoulder-mounted cannons in the promotional trailer, so they definitely existed somewhere. Perhaps higher-tier shops or black market dealers?
He equipped the protective barrier immediately, feeling it sync with his body. When attacked, it would automatically generate a shimmering energy shield around him. Not the best protection, certainly, but definitely better than nothing.
After leaving the shop, he checked his funds with dismay; nearly half his hard-earned money was completely gone. He absolutely needed to work harder and smarter.
Taxi driving alone wouldn't earn him the required 50,000 for purchasing the company, not at this rate at least. He thought seriously about pursuing better business opportunities.
Stocks looked potentially profitable, but he still didn't understand the system well enough yet to risk significant capital. Still, he kept driving passengers steadily, grinding away.
A well-dressed woman waited by the roadside, waving for a taxi. He approached eagerly, but another taxi aggressively cut in front of him and took her first, the driver smirking.
Rowan cursed the competitor under his breath. Luckily, another passenger stood nearby waiting, so it was just a minor annoyance rather than lost income.
Passing through an industrial warehouse district, he noticed many minotaur workers protesting loudly and angrily. They'd gathered in a large crowd outside a specific warehouse, holding makeshift signs and chanting.
He vaguely remembered this company's name, Philly Storage, from the stock market listings he'd studied. Curious about the situation, he slowed down and asked a bystander what was happening.
The corrupt boss apparently hadn't paid workers' wages for months, so the desperate workers were striking in protest and demanding justice.
"Tch… serves him right," Rowan muttered sympathetically. He genuinely hated shameless, exploitative bosses who mistreated employees.
After joining in, shouting a few insults at management briefly, he left to continue working.
Pickup, drop-off, collect money… the cycle repeated endlessly.
So, an entire day passed with many profitable rides.
"Please leave a five-star review!" he called cheerfully to yet another departing passenger.
He'd just dropped someone off at a fancy hotel when a gray elf in an expensive tailored suit rushed over frantically, looking desperate.
"Quick, to the airport! Hurry!!" he demanded breathlessly.
A countdown timer appeared on Rowan's screen, an extremely tight time limit with heavy traffic between here and his target location.
"Hurry up!" the elf urged impatiently.
"Buckle up tight," Rowan advised calmly, his expression becoming more focused.
It was time for him to demonstrate his driving skills.
He shifted gears smoothly, and the car launched forward like a fired cannonball. He drove at full speed through Liberty City's congested streets, weaving between vehicles expertly. Cars that didn't move fast enough got rammed aside without hesitation or mercy.
The urban scenery blurred past them as he sped as fast as he could. The gray elf clutched the seat desperately in obvious fear, his knuckles white.
They arrived at the airport entrance just seconds before the countdown timer ran out completely.
"Thank you so much!" the elf gasped, clearly relieved and grateful despite the terrifying ride.
He handed Rowan a thick stack of cash generously.
[Cash +1000]
Before hurrying away toward the terminal, he leaned in close and whispered conspiratorially: "If you're interested in making real money, buy Soundwave Company stock tomorrow morning. Trust me, you'll thank me later."
Then he rushed off urgently, disappearing into the crowd.
Rowan fell into deep contemplation, processing this unexpected information. Was this actual insider information? The mysterious businessman had sounded extremely confident and specific; maybe it was actually worth trying despite the risk.
After driving for the rest of the day, his accumulated funds had grown substantially. The next morning, he rushed eagerly to the stock exchange hall as soon as it opened.
He found Soundwave Company's listing on the board; the chart showed stable, unremarkable movement with nothing obviously special or suspicious.
But remembering the credible-sounding tip from yesterday, he gritted his teeth and made his decision. He invested all his available liquid funds, 7,000 cash total, into Soundwave stock.
He went all-in, risking everything on this single chance.