Land Sharks

Zephyr's gaze drifted upward, fixed on the unremarkable expanse of his ceiling as he absentmindedly tapped at his comm, scrolling through a lackluster list of online academies.

'I want to go to a real academy…'

With a hiss, he popped open a bottle of soda, the fizzing sound filling the cluttered space of his room. Tools lay scattered across the floor, mingling with boxes stuffed with mech magazines. In one corner, a desk crafted by his father from salvaged materials stood, its surface barren except for the laptop Zephyr used for tuning mechs.

Having grown up on the outskirts of the city, Zephyr had become accustomed to virtual academies for his education. In his younger years, he hadn't given it much thought, assuming the material would be the same regardless of the format. But a chance encounter with a student from a prestigious academy had shattered that illusion.

Boy was he wrong. 

It had been a year since then, but the memory of the disdainful look on the student's face still lingered. Zephyr had learned then just how lacking his education truly was. He wasn't even at the bottom of the social hierarchy; he was beneath it, his virtual courses paling in comparison to the sophistication of in-person academies.

From standard subjects like mathematics and physics, an academy in the city would be able to cover double, if not triple the content provided by an online course at the same age level. Specialized courses like robotics or advanced biology were even more out of the question. It was if the education system itself wanted to keep the division of the upper class and lower class as separate as possible. 

Online academies also couldn't provide a mech piloting course either which meant that all the mech piloting knowledge Zephyr currently possesses comes from his father.

What could he do about it though? Somehow pay for the tuition with the meager income from the workshop? One didn't need to be clever to figure that out.

'Should I join more of those tournaments? I could definitely make a decent sum of money if I consistently win.'

A brief moment later, Zephyr shook his head. His father's mech didn't have the best specs around. In order to win, oftentimes if not all times, he would turn off the safety parameters to increase the mech's range of motion and power. This meant that even though he won, it applied too much stress on the mech's frame which then in turn meant more funds needed to go into repairs.

With a frustrated sigh, he crushed the empty soda can in his hand, failing his attempt at hitting the trash bin adding to the small anthill of cans already forming.

'Drats.'

Deactivating his comm, Zephyr fell back onto his bed and closed his eyes.

***

The next morning…

The sun had barely risen as the rhythmic noise of the workshop was already in full swing. The scaffolding had been taken down completely and Zephyr had begun to run some diagnostics on Danny's mech before its eventual return to its owner.

He rubbed his hand on the mech's thin armor frame, the smooth metal somehow comforting. Growing up around mechs for all his life, the metal giants felt almost like a family to him.

 With a satisfied nod, Zephyr closed his laptop, unplugging the cord to the mech's internal computer.

"That should do it." He muttered softly to himself as he stepped away from the mech gazing at its imposing figure one last time. 

In the next second, the squeaky creaks of the workshop's entrance entered Zephyr's ears.

"Team Leader, you don't need to bring yourself to come to such a dull workshop. We alone are enough to successfully close out the deal."

A trio walked into the workshop, two men following a woman wearing heels. They were new faces Zephyr noted, as their attire consisted of a suit and tie, something rarely seen around the area. The man who spoke was closely walking behind the woman in a hushed tone loud enough for Zephyr to hear.

"I can handle my own business fine. You need not be so considerate," she replied sternly.

The woman looked around the hanger pinching her nose slightly.

"What is that smell? Does this place not have an air filtration system?"

The smell of engine oil and grease was something Zephyr had long gotten used to, but it was obvious to him that the trio in front of him had difficulty adjusting to the workshop's environment.

He walked up to the woman whose height matched his own with the addition of her heels.

"Welcome to Vael's workshop, how may I help you today?"

One of the men scoffed at him, "A kid? The owner sure does have bad taste making someone so young work."

"He must have trouble hiring better paid workers," the other man said while showing an expression as if he was pitying Zephyr.

"Are you here to request maintenance of your mech? Or perhaps a regular oil change?" 

Zephyr disliked their demeanor. He didn't need to be pitied on, especially by someone who knew nothing about him. Even so, his father had taught him that it was important to always greet customers with a positive attitude.

And so he did.

The woman standing in front opened her mouth to speak.

"We are from Gregrio's Real Estate Acquisition Team, otherwise known as (G.R.E.A.T.). We are here to offer the owner of this establishment a sizable sum of money to purchase this plot of land. The local representative would like to develop this area as a new shopping district so we have been purchasing all the land around here."

Zephyr blinked.

'What?'

It was a different answer from what he was expecting. Someone actually wants to buy land from this desolate region? He felt the urge to rub his ears in case he misheard. 

"...Wait here. I will get my father."

Moments later, Keith stepped out from their living quarters yawning as he noticed the trio in his workshop.

He leaned in whispering into his son's ear, "Who are they? You said we had some unique customers, is that them?"

"They said they wanted to buy our workshop. They want to buy something so aren't they customers?" Zephyr whispered back.

Keith couldn't really argue with his son's logic.

"What brings you here today? My son has notified me that you wish to buy our workshop, is that correct?"

The saleswoman revealed a practiced smile, "Precisely, Mr. Vael. Would you like to go further in detail over our offer? We are willing to accommodate to your schedule if necessary."

Zephyr glanced at his father gauging his reaction.

Could this be the opportunity he was looking for? If the workshop is sold at a high enough price, he could attend an academy while his father wouldn't have to work anymore! The deal almost seemed too good to be true.

She continued, "For starters, here is my business card. I will send a message through your comm ID going over our offer. Please contact me back after you have made your decision."

After the trio left, Keith read the card for a few moments before promptly tossing it in the trash.

"Go call Danny and tell him his mech's ready. I'm going to go back to sleep for a few more hours."

Zephyr stared at the trash can blankly.

"Why did you throw that away, Dad?" 

Keith didn't reply.

"That could've been my chance to go to a real academy! You know how much I've always wanted to be a mech pilot. I've helped you with the workshop all my life–"

"And do you really think that selling our home would be enough?" His father interrupted him abruptly.

He continued, "Those people aren't willing to buy our land for as high a price as they say. You may not have not known this, since it's the first time they actually came in-person, but those people are land sharks. They buy land at an extremely low price before developing it and reselling it. If the owner refuses to sell, they begin to hire local gangs to harass the landowner until they finally agree to a deal."

Zephyr looked down, his initial frustration simmering down.

"In fact, the only reason our workshop was left untouched for so long is because our customers all own mechs. They have for the most part deterred any action being taken by any local gangs."

Keith sighed as he looked at his son. He had always known that his son wanted to be a mech pilot. Simply piloting mechs against amateurs wasn't enough anymore. Zephyr's skills had long surpassed even the average trained mech pilot. It would be hard for him to get any better without a proper education.

The older mechanic rubbed his son's head affectionately.

"I'll enroll you into an academy this coming semester."

Zephyr's head shot up, his eyes widening in surprise. He didn't expect his father to actually bring up the idea himself.

'Wait a minute.' 

From experience, Zephyr knew to shove down his expectations before being let down.

"What about the money?" he asked tentatively.

If his father wasn't going to sell the workshop, where would the tuition fees come from? Zephyr knew he couldn't count on his father of all people to have set up a savings account. 

"You let your pops worry about that. Remember to tell Danny to stop by. His mech takes up too much space for heaven's sake!" Keith grumbled before yawning again.