Scrap Metal Philosophy 5 (Patreon)

Scrap Metal Philosophy

Chapter 5

-VB-

The Merchants disappeared one day and no one knew how. Theories abound, of course. They got done in by someone, probably not any of the major or even minor gangs. An independent hero or vigilante, perhaps.

The PRT and the Protectorate ENE, of course, investigated as much as they could. Despite their parent agency’s cumbersome size, several PRT agents had ties and the training needed to perform infiltration.

The Azn Bad Boyz, led by Lung, put feelers out as well even as he boldly moved into Merchant strongholds that folded like a house of cards to his advances.

The Empire Eighty-Eight, not to be outdone by their Asian counterpart, quickly mobilized not to take chunks of territory for themselves but to prevent the ABB from taking more territory.

“Because territory for the gangs is directly related to how many parahumans they can potentially employ ,” Techscav lectured as he worked on another tinkertech. This one looked like a piece of armor, but he already had a helmet, a chest plate, thigh and leg guards, and forearm guards. It was too round to be arm guards… Butt guards?

“I don’t get it. Why would they be connected?”

He paused and looked at her with that welder mask providing very little expression for her to decipher.

“A territory’s use depends on the parahuman in question,” he told her. “Take yourself for an example. You have a territory around you that keep bugs active and ready to fight,” he said as he gestured around, and she very much had to keep herself in check to not give him an answer, because he was right. How did he know she controlled bugs? “For the gangs, it is the same. A territory is where they keep their goons, weapons, and safe houses. They can react quickly within their own territory or, at least, faster than they could elsewhere. A territory is where they, most of whom are criminals, feel safe. Territories could come in many forms. It could be a business. It could be a building. It could be a field out in the middle of nowhere. The point of a territory is to give the cape they employ a means to an end. The Elite has their business, PRT has their fame, Empire Eighty-Eight has actual territory, and so on.”

“So … it’s kind of like … giving each cape a slice of the pie?” she asked. She noticed now that Techscav liked to talk but simply hadn’t before.

“Exactly. Conversely, if you control territory and a parahuman pops up from there, you can also recruit them. It gives those parahumans, if they care about the territory, a reason to stay in the gang. Whether the gang actually helps due to its early developmental stage or because there are other reasons involved is up to each case.”

“... Then why did you take up a junkyard as your territory?”

He paused and then scoffed. “It’s good money.”

“Huh?”

“What you don’t know is that I work on other electronics when you are not here. I fix them up and sell them later on the internet. People throw away a lot of stuff that works really well, you know.”

Taylor blinked. “How much could you be earning…?”

“Before I left to help with the Simurgh, I earned myself a thousand dollars.”

She nearly did a spit take. Hadn’t he been only around for a week and a half at that point?!

“I had to spend half of that buying some stuff to help me do my shit, but overall, it wasn’t a bad income. See? This is what I mean. As a tinker, I can do shit that other uneducated people couldn’t. I mean, take yourself for example. You are not a college graduate. You don’t have any skills. This is not demeaning you; this is just me stating facts about your current situation. But you have your power. You can probably use them to do something useful for money instead of heroing.”

“Like become a villain?”

“Fuck no, villainy is one of the stupidest ways to get money. Now, crime, that is a way to get money.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Of course. Not paying your taxes is a crime. You can definitely make a lot of money not paying your taxes. It might not make sense when you don’t make a lot. After all, low-income workers receive far more from society’s norms than they give it. Sure, Brockton Bay is a shit hole, but not everywhere is on Brockton Bay’s level. But as you go up on the financial income hierarchy, you pay more than you feel like you get in return. That’s when people start looking for tax cuts, write-offs, and loopholes. The dumb ones don’t pay taxes.”

“Are you calling a lot of people dumb?”

“Yes. It gives other people an excuse to come after you. Is ten thousand dollars a year worth getting locked up in jail for even a month? Personally, I don’t think so,” he replied.

She didn’t think so, too. If she was making enough to pay ten thousand dollars in tax in the first place.

“So pay the bare minimum you have to in order to keep society functioning. That’s the water filtration, gas lines, electrical grid, police officers, firefighters, road repair, the army, and so on. I’m setting money aside to pay my taxes. too.”

“Really?”

“Yes. You think America cares if you’re an illegal immigrant? Fuck no. The government only really cares about illegal immigrants because people complain about it, but as far as the IRS, congress, and agencies are concerned, as long as they don’t make problems and pay their heads down, the government has other issues to take care of first. Like actual criminals.” He paused. “Actually, some of the criminals pay their taxes. I can bet my liver on that.”

“... But why?”

“Think about it this way. The government has limited resources and manpower to solve their issues. They can go after one organization but there are three organizations of same size, prestige, and inconvenience. One organization has dubious operations but pay their taxes. The second organization is obviously criminal but pay their taxes. The third organization is also criminal but does not pay their taxes. Who would you go after?”

“... The last?”

“Yes. It’s the same reason why Mexican cartels operating within USA and Mexico does not get their shit fucked over while American criminal syndicates do by the government; the former pays their taxes and somewhat cooperate, but the latter does not and gives the US government the middle finger. The US government promptly brings out the bat and smashes their shit in.”

He stopped and put his tools away.

Ah, she was so deep in thought over this that she forgot he had been Tinkering.

“Okay. Shoulder armor, done.”

Shoulder armor…?

That’s how she started learning about politics, governments, and taxes: in a junkyard talking to a Tinker. His words would prove right time and time again, but the story’s not there yet.

-VB-

A/N: the bit about Mexican cartel is an actual thing, though it’s one that the government doesn’t like to talk about. If you live in San Francisco, then you know what this is about.