EXP Exploit
I don't think the Devil planned the Fallout 4 System particularly well for balance. With the New Vegas System everything was linked to Street Cred, so I had to get out there and interact with people to level up. The Fallout 4 System is not, and just uses the same EXP system as the game. In Fallout 4 you basically got EXP for everything you do, crafting, cooking, hacking, talking, basically so long as you initiated the action you got EXP for it.
So when I set my logic coprocessor to launch the commands for each individual item created by my company personally, well… it's not my fault the game was rigged from the start.
Imagine, if you will, an order shipping out to Phoenix, Arizona for a thousand rifles, a thousand pistols, five hundred rounds of ammo for each piece, and three hundred units of Stimpacks and Medex. Those rifles all drop 30 EXP points. The pistols 20 and 20 points per hundred for all the ammo and 10 points each for the stims and painkillers. Plus it's a 500 point quest to ship it all out.
I complete this in a day granting me a grand total of 256,500 Experience points from one day's work.
It cost me 3875 points to get to level 51 and each subsequent level up cost 75 more points than the last. Meaning I leveled up 47 times in one day's work. So you might understand my lack of surprise at the midnight update patch nerfing my crafting exploit.
It doesn't matter!
For I, Big Juan, have already got the best perks from the Fallout 4 perk chart. First I took all the damage perks. Once upon a time I built my entire combat gimmick around the 25 percent damage boost I get from cowboy themed weapons. Now I just have a flat double damage on any weapon I pick up plus a bunch of other neat little tacked on abilities like an incredible capacity to deliver crippling shots.
Nobody escapes the slaughterhouse cause I shot out all their knee caps.
With a full thirty perk points dumped into DPS, I then purchased the wonky crafting abilities from Fallout 4, and I mean wonky. For starters, Fallout 4 has some of the worst designed weapons in all of shooter gaming in just their base models, but then the extensive crafting perks just turns the dial to eleven on everything. AND IT IS FUCKING BEAUTIFUL!
With Rank 4 in Gun Nut I can fire 50 cal rifle rounds out of a weapon made of plumbing pipes. And I thought Jury Rigging was some Wagh! power. My weapon designs no longer need to have any bearing in engineering. It works because I say it works.
I should watch out for sudden growth spurts cause this feels like some Warboss play.
My mind filled with an endless sea of ideas and know-how, greatly augmenting my world class knowledge base. I'd say it's on the level of clairvoyance, like Perterabo in 40K - the Primarch who only needed to look at a piece of tech to know how to make it better. I find that pretty interesting considering I spent the remaining two perk points on V.A.N.S.
The first Rank of the perk gave me a clairvoyant sense of direction. I'd always know how to get to where I want to go and where what I want is. I get that GPS is a thing, but it's an honest to God psychic power. Who knows how far a mind with an IQ of 240 can expand freshly awakened psychic powers of Satanic origin. Sounds like a comic book origin story that strums a lot of interesting threads but not too many to be disinteresting.
The second Rank is just a flat out plus 2 to Perception. An easy pick up of an extra 40 percent to my sensory powers which at base are like someone stuffed two MRI machines inside my head along with a pair of microscopes and some binoculars. With cyber ears, lab grown skin, and nasal filters the downsides of super hearing and touch are EZPZ to handle, and if I ever get tired of being able to tell exactly how my food was prepared by taste alone I'll look into getting a cyberware tongue.
Definitely Orochimaru style if I go that route.
Gaining 47 levels in a day, gaining all those new perks that provided so much raw information was simply too much. I entered a lightly euphoric fugue state that ended in V and Jackie dragging me out of my workshop covered in sacred oil with enough incense smoke escaping the door to trip the fire extinguishers located outside my workshop.
"More dakka! More dakka!" I shouted in a haze as the water flooding my office brought me out of my delirium.
The pair scattered the moment I started struggling, not stupid enough to try to tangle with me even if they weren't mostly ganic.
I shook my head and slapped myself a few times on the cheeks to clear the brain fog completely.
"Alright, I'm back." I declared and stood up causing Jackie to look away while V stared at my dangling charisma.
I swiveled my hips and laughed as V's head followed the penduluming arc.
"Please, hermano. I've already seen it too many times on the news, I don't need a personal showing." Jackie begged as he kept a hand over his eyes and the other outstretched to ward me off.
Jackie's words broke V's trance and she wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth. The soaked woman came back and grabbed my hand and wrist, not even making it halfway around the pillar of lab grown meat and artificial bone.
"What happened, Big Guy?" V asked with a voice full of concern, "Gloria said you never came home last night and now we find you… like this!"
She indicated up and down me and around to the general fucked up-ness of the situation.
"Holy shit!" Jackie shouted as he looked into my workshop without the billowing smoke obscuring his vision, "What is this?"
V and I came over and we saw my workshop filled with towers of weapons and armor and at the center of it all hanging suspended from the ceiling with thick chains a borg body that would get Kenworth and Smasher stiffies if they still had cocks. A towering behemoth of steel, death, and edge with a mix of whimsy that came together to form a work of art and cold-blooded function. Even with how brilliantly tolerant Kenworth is for Chrome I'd still need to crunch numbers on whether or not this thing will send him over the edge.
But I got the feeling that fugue-Juan does good work.
Moving through the piles of glistening instruments of doom I found a body suit made of MK V ballistic weave, one of the single most useful pickups from the many crafting perks I took from my frantic leveling up. A single layer of 200 GSM fabric is enough to stop 9 millimeter fire, making it 3 times stronger than kevlar which is still used in body armor to this day. On top of this the fabric was programmable, capable of taking on the appearance and texture of any type of clothing material.
I pulled it on so that Jackie would stop complaining about my nakedness, much to V's dismay. Picking up three Charisma points did more than make my genitals hypnotic. My body was freaky sexy, smooth skin and hair without blemish, perfected symmetry and ratios. I was officially a 12 on the hotness scale and the piles of well oiled death dealing machinery around us was proof that I'd landed a 12 on the crazy scale too.
Beyond the mountains of misfit gear I discovered a place of worship, an altar amidst the chaos. Upon it lay my weapons glowing with the bronze magic scrollwork caused by enhancement from three Greater Dazhbog runestones each. My revolvers and my shotgun waited on velvet pillows on the left and right sides of the altar, but changed. More powerful, more comfortable in the hand, more smooth in action. I'd pushed them as far as I could in every conceivable direction without changing the core of who they are.
My guns flanked the centerpiece of the altar, an absolute beast of a weapon with more in common with a tank cannon than a rifle, but kept the rifle pattern for the better perks. I lifted it to my shoulder and looked down the rangefinding scope past the revolving action that housed six saturnite slugs the size of beer cans. The name engraved on the side 'La Ultima Cena', and I knew this weapon was built for when God wants that tank over there destroyed, and the building behind it too.
I put it down and looked at the suit of armor freestanding behind the altar, the Stealth Suit Mk IV. I'd used ballistic weave to remake the exo-muscular system, tripling its Strength enhancing properties, then sealed it in a semi gloss charcoal colored synth skin layer. Over it lay a most welcome sight, a shiny graphite version of the Praetor Suit with a fully enclosed helmet via Crystal Dome tech and a CBRN filter attached to the jaw. Glowing with a similar bronze scrollwork across it that came from Greater Reinforcement glyphs. A pair of saturnite mantis blades were hidden in the bracers ready for quick deployment, and the Delta V Jump Boots would get me there all the faster. Overall, slick work. Slick as fuck. So slick it might be the slickest.
I walked around it and it opened up allowing me to slip into it before it quickly enclosed around me.
"Fuck the hell yes." I smiled as I put the three perk points I grinded during my hands on crafting spree into Pain Train.
For obvious reasons.
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I've worked on this chapter for days. It all started with me wondering what if for just one day the Fallout 4 System worked just like it does in game. So I did the math laughed about Juan gaining 47 levels in a single day. Then said fuck it, I've already done the math. So Juan set up an exploit and here we are. From now on Juan has to build everything by hand rather than just use a menu and poof EXP.
Which is what he did at the end of the chapter.
Happy New Year Juan, enjoy the OP poured on top of your OP.
You can support me and my family at
ko - fi . com / jmanm