The old man took out a palm-sized metal plate from under the workbench, with twisted edges and vague lines engraved on the surface - not a modern circuit, more like some kind of ancient carving.
"This thing is mixed with the garbage you dug up today. It is not an electronic component, and the material composition cannot be scanned. But I see that you are collecting these 'antiques'." Old Qiao threw the metal plate over, "I'll give it to you, it will take up some space."
Icha caught it. It was cold in hand and unnaturally heavy. The board is engraved with a pattern of entwined feathered snakes, with two tarnished black stones inlaid in the positions of the snake's eyes. The moment he touched it, there was a slight tingling sensation in his temple.
Like a hallucination, several frames flashed before my eyes: a huge pyramid stadium, a rubber ball streaking across the blood-red sky, and tens of thousands of people in the audience shouting silently. The scene flashes away.
"... Thanks." He stuffed the metal plate into the inside of his backpack.
"By the way," Old Qiao lowered his head again and fiddled with the soldering iron, "There is a game at the 'Underground Bowl' tonight. I heard that the new prosthetic sponsor of the 'Stingers' has obtained a military-grade neural accelerator. The odds have been opened to 1:5.3."
"Yeah."
