this is the guy who makes pump. he used to be a chemistry teacher, then he found out that everyone in crypto was buying weak pump from random people, so he started cooking his own in this warehouse. his pump is 96% pure, and that is why every coin that gets a dose of it goes up. nobody else can make it this clean, and he knows it.
help him cook eight batches of pump. press HEAT, watch the needle move across the gauge, and press CRYSTALLIZE while it is inside the green zone. the closer to the middle you hit, the purer the batch. miss the zone and the whole batch is ruined.
reactor is cold. press HEAT to start the batch, then catch the needle in the sweet spot.
his rules for making pump. every batch you finish in the game opens one more page.
most people in this business treat the reaction like a vending machine. he treats it like a conversation, and the reaction has never once lied to him.
a batch at 80% is not a batch, it is an apology. he would rather pour it into the sand and start again than let it wear his name.
anybody can make a white capsule. the green one glows, and when it glows in a dark room everyone in that room knows exactly whose it is.
the buyers used to call it "the green stuff". then one of them said the ticker out loud, and he made him say it again, slower, until the whole warehouse heard it.
daylight is for people with nothing to protect. the only light in here is the one coming out of the capsules, and it is enough to read the scale by.
a distributor once stretched a batch with sugar to double the bags. the batch stopped glowing, the buyers stopped calling, and the distributor now sells car insurance.
he has not pulled them over his eyes in years. he says he needs to see the color change with his own eyes, because the color is the only review he trusts.
he has the numbers for 100. he keeps them in his head and nowhere else, because a product that cannot get better is a product that has nowhere left to go.
he holds every batch up to the light one capsule at a time. if the green does not hum, the whole tray goes back in the reactor. nobody has ever seen him skip a capsule, and nobody has ever seen a dull one leave the building.
this is what 96 looks like: the vapor is green, the glass is warm, and the bowl lights the room better than the lamp does. he says the first batch of the day is the one that sets the mood for the market, so he never cooks it tired.
every bag is counted twice and sealed once. he does not trust a machine to feel the weight of a batch, and he does not trust anyone else to seal it. the bags go out at dawn and come back empty by lunch.
eight batches, zero sugar, one warehouse. he wipes the scale, folds the gloves, and looks at the number for a very long time. then he starts the ninth.