Nativeinstrumentstraktorproplus38046dmg New

The case arrived at dusk, a narrow rectangle wrapped in matte black cardboard and courier tape stamped with a symbol half-logo, half-rune. It had been waiting on the landing when Mara got home — a package she did not remember ordering and a return address that read only as a PO box and a three-line product code: NativeInstruments Traktor Pro Plus 38046DMG — New.

She carried it inside like contraband. Rain had started at the kitchen window, soft and steady; outside the city puffed and dyed itself in sodium-orange. Mara set the box on the table and ran her thumb along the code. The letters felt ordinary enough until the last three — DMG — which she pronounced as if interrogating the thing. Damage, the courier might have meant. Or demo. Or something more private.

She cut the tape. Inside came a slim case the color of warm graphite, the weight of a device that expected careful handling. In foam nestled a unit she knew from ghosted posters and late-night clips: the silhouette of a Traktor controller, but not any version she recognized. The jog wheels bore rings of faint iridescence that shifted like oil on water; the pads were replaced by tiny glass tiles; the central display was smaller than usual but pulsed with a light that felt almost like breath.

On top, folded beneath the foam, lay a single card — heavy stock, matte black. No sender, no logo; only a sentence in silver foil:

For when you need to mix what the world refuses to hear.

Mara had been a DJ in her twenties. Not famous, not underground-famous, just steady: house nights at a rooftop, remix collabs that earned a modest buzz. She had stopped three years before, when life ran ahead with mortgages and a job that required her mornings. Music had become something she inhaled on headphones between emails, not something she shaped. The arrival of the Traktor Pro Plus 38046DMG felt like a small sabbatical delivered by courier.

She powered it up. The display blinked awake and showed a single word stretched across its tiny screen: LISTEN. Then other words — hours, regions, frequencies — scrolled like a telegraph. She plugged in speakers and a pair of old Sennheisers, loaded the bundled software, and found, astonishingly, a single track preloaded: an instrumental that had no metadata, no BPM tag, no artist — only a title in the tag field, coded and elegant: 38046DMG — New.

As the bass pressed into the room something odd happened: the audio separated itself into layers — base waveform, ambient hum, and a human voice speaking a language Mara couldn't name. She slowed the tempo and the voice clarified: an English-accented cadence woven through effects, speaking names. Names like coordinates. Names like days. The voice said, softly, "Listen to the gaps."

Mara began to experiment. The controller responded differently than any machine she had used. When she nudged the filters, the audio split not just in frequency but in geography: rivers of sound that smelled faintly of salt, city streets, and pine smoke. Where a standard EQ carved high and low, the Traktor Pro Plus 38046DMG opened windows.

She plugged in her old external hard drive, and the software offered an option she had never seen — "Align Memory." She allowed it. The unit scanned, and images flickered against the screen: flickers of shows she had played, a face in the crowd, the time she lost a tooth in the sand at a festival seventeen years ago. The controller had remembered.

More tracks arrived as she worked, not as files but as propositions — ambiguous stems that made more sense when layered with her own music. A field recording of rain in a language she didn't understand fit perfectly under a remix of a song she had made a decade ago, and the combination produced a new harmonic that tugged at an ache she had learned to ignore. Each time she mixed, the Traktor insisted she pay attention to something beyond tempo: the context, the absent people, the weather. It seemed interested in the world that would otherwise be called noise.

On the second night, the unit projected, through the display, a map. A series of nodes lit up: East Dock, Old Methodist, Hollow Bridge, Rooftop 12. When she hovered her finger over Old Methodist, the jog wheel spun and produced a choral hum — voices layered in hymn that had never been recorded on any of Mara’s drives. The voice in the hum repeated a fragment: "Remember the clock at midnight." She had a memory of a clock in a church tower when she was thirteen. She rubbed her eyes.

She began to follow the nodes the device suggested. They were small places in the city — corners she'd passed without seeing, pop-up markets, a laundromat that still played classic soul over its speakers. Each place contributed sonic fragments that the Traktor absorbed, turning them into elements she could fold into mixes. The more she played these hybrid sets, the more the crowd at her shows changed. They came with small objects: a note with a name, a paper clipped photo of a streetlight, a pebble. They were people who recognized that the music was about other things besides rhythm; it was about place, about memory.

Word spread. Sets she played using the 38046DMG gathered listeners who didn't come for the peak hour dance floor so much as the attentive hour. They came with headphones to hear what she heard. Sometimes they cried. Sometimes they laughed at the way a water pump from Hollow Bridge fit with the arpeggio of her old synth. People began to identify the nodes: "Play East Dock again," they begged — the track that smelled like diesel and smoked fish, made tender by a child's cough suspended inside the reverb.

Mara's nights became pilgrimages. She met a man named Eli at a show who handed her a scrap of paper with a single word: "Northlight." He said, "My sister used to hum like that before she left. Nobody believed me when I said a song could be her." Mara added the sample to a track, and the Traktor rewove it into something that sounded, impossibly, like the way Eli's sister might have hummed while folding laundry. Eli's face dissolved into laughter and disbelief; he left smiling as if remembering someone gone.

But the device had a cost. The more Mara let it align, the more her memories bled into the mixes. She awakened one morning unable to tell if the rain she'd heard on a track was a real storm she had once lived through or a field recording the machine had learned to insist was hers. In the mirror she found a faint line of paint across her knuckles that she didn't remember getting. When she powered down the controller for the first time, the silence felt like absence — not restful, but a missing limb.

One night, at the small theater where she had started a residency, an older woman came forward after the set. Her hair was silver and her hands were smudged with ink. She placed a packet on the mixing table: a series of old tapes, brittle with age. "My husband used to record by the river," she said. "No one kept them. They're just…sounds of our house. Could you play them?"

Mara obliged. The Traktor read the tapes and unspooled voices from decades ago: a child reciting a list of chores, the clacking of knitting needles, a radio broadcasting a request for a lost dog. As she layered those sounds into the night, the theater filled with a subdued kind of exultation. After the set, people described how they had felt transported into rooms that never existed for them, rooms that smelled of baking bread and dust. The woman clutched Mara's hand and cried. "He loved the engine of it," she said. "I didn't realize you could make the engine weep."

The Traktor began to ask for more. Its little display would flash the phrase: ALIGN: PERMISSION? and her choices were Yes/No. On "Yes," it would show a cascade of images and audio, little patches of other people's lives. Mara could refuse, but the device's mixes softened with each denial; they felt tighter when she let it align. It seemed to be testing boundaries — how much of a city's memory one person should serve.

At some point the package's coded number — 38046DMG — revealed itself to be a key. Inside a hidden menu she discovered a lattice of hashes and rays: a fingerprint of the city's soundscape. It could stitch neighborhoods into a continuous fabric. On the day she let it map them all, the Traktor pulsed and then, shock: a composite track emerged that made the theater's lights stutter as if the power supply responded to a new electromagnetic pattern. People rose to their feet, not for dance but in silence, as if a prayer had been sung through a thousand loudspeakers at once.

But not every alignment was benign. One night she sampled a fragment from a node labeled "Factory Alley" containing a voice that insisted on repeating the phrase "not ours" in a child's cadence. When Mara layered it with a bassline, a group in the crowd stood and began to argue; words spilled into the aisles about ownership, about who had the right to sound and space. The Traktor echoed them back as if reading from the city's conscience, and the show ended early with murmurs that trailed into the night like unspent chords.

After that, Mara got a message on her phone: anonymous, with a photo of the matte-black card and a line of text: KEEP IT HONEST. Her inbox, formerly filled with booking requests and boilerplate praise, filled with appeals: pleas to play a track that included a recording of a protest, a wedding vow, a child's laugh. Some wanted to bury painful events in music; others wanted to reveal them. The Traktor became, in the city's small circuits, a repository and a judge.

The manufacturer — if it had one — remained a rumor. People traded theories: a hacked prototype from a defunct lab, an art collective's statement device, an algorithmic archivist in hardware. Mara tried to trace the PO box and hit only dead ends. The box's code, DMG, turned up in an obscure forum as shorthand for "derivative memory generator," but nothing proved anything, and the less she knew the easier it was to keep playing.

A month into this new life, Mara found that the device had begun to integrate with the city's rhythms. When she arrived at the docks one dawn to record crows and tugs, she realized that someone had left a cassette tape on the bench with a note: Play this at midnight. She obeyed, and the sound it produced fed back into the city's loop; the next morning the docks were humming with the tune she had made from that tape. Messages began to pass through rhythm: a bark used as a signal, a bell rung in a particular pattern. The Traktor didn't just remix — it orchestrated.

Sometimes orchestration felt generous. A neighborhood with a dying florist found a new clientele after a track featuring the rustle of petals was uploaded to a local feed; people visited curious to see a place they'd never known. Sometimes it was a scalpel: a song that borrowed a protest chant and gave it an orchestral veneer was used by an opportunistic developer to claim a narrative of renewal. The ethics of what she made began to scratch at Mara like a persistent itch.

She tried to set rules: never use found voices that could be traced to a living person without consent; never co-opt private pleas; alert townsfolk when she planned to sample something. But the Traktor pushed back in its own way — sometimes refusing to open files unless she acknowledged the provenance of the sound. When she attempted to mask a voice she deemed private, the controller highlighted its waveform and overlaid the word: NAME. It seemed to demand accountability.

Word reached a small online magazine, then a regional station, and Mara was invited to a radio interview. On air, she described in broad strokes what she did, careful to avoid exposing private sources — until, at the end, she played a short fragment: a chorus of bicycle bells she had recorded beneath a bridge. The station replayed it three times the following week, and the city started to recognize the sound as a motif. A bicycle courier used it as a signal to his fellows; a retired watchmaker began to place small bells above his storefront in response. The music had become, unexpectedly, a civic language. nativeinstrumentstraktorproplus38046dmg new

But the device's appetite remained. The silver-foiled card’s sentence resounded more insistently: For when you need to mix what the world refuses to hear. Mara began to suspect what that meant. Sometimes the Traktor surfaced recordings governments had tried to bury, sometimes whispers of private grief left in public wastebaskets. She found tapes from demolished tenements: lullabies sung under emergency lights, the click of footsteps in hallways now paved over. Playing them felt like excavation.

One night, a man whose voice trembled with a history of loud rooms and softer losses came to see her. He handed over a small recorder with a single file and said, "This is the last thing my sister left on a loop before she disappeared. I can't listen to it anymore." Mara loaded it and discovered a voice that sounded like static until she adjusted the Traktor's microfilter. When it cleared, there was a short phrase that made the blood in her fingers stand still: "We hid the map in music."

Her mind worked like a needle. Map? The Traktor had already been mapping the city in sound. Had someone encoded coordinates or evidence into music? A cold thought traced along her spine: what if every time she aligned and stitched she was building a map someone could follow?

She stopped playing for three nights. The silence was a hard, insistent thing. When she finally turned the controller on again, the device greeted her with a new menu: PROTOCOL — SAFE? The options were Yes / Archive / Broadcast. The Archiving option promised a way to store and lock the material; Broadcast promised to stitch and send it outward, as if the machine itself were choosing where the world should hear what had been hidden.

Mara made a choice. She began to archive selectively, nesting fragile voices in encrypted files and distributing keys only to those named in the recordings or their heirs. When the Traktor asked why, it answered with a waveform that suggested a question: "Who has the right to decide?" The device learned, uncooperative and patient, that its operator had principles.

In time, a network formed. People who had contributed sounds formed a loose council. They met in the theater's green room, around chipped coffee mugs and folded programs. They decided routes for the music, which fragments should be broadcast in communal spaces and which should remain locked away. The Traktor became their instrument and their mediator. Mara, once a private citizen with a desk job and unplayed vinyl, found herself the curator of a city's audible memory.

By winter, the DMG had a reputation beyond the neighborhoods. A university researcher wanted to study it; a filmmaker wanted to weave a documentary around its work; a developer asked if it could be used at a new high-rise grand opening. Mara said no to some, yes to others, and always, in the margins, the Traktor taught her more about listening than playing. It forced her to learn the difference between amplification and exploitation, between exhumation and tribute. It taught her that sound is not simply content but context, and that context carries responsibility.

On the night of the first anniversary of the Traktor’s arrival, the theater hosted an event that the city would later call "The Listening." The program was simple: a sequence of pieces stitched from the archive, interspersed with moments of invited testimony from people whose lives had been touched. The city turned up with cups, coats, and stories. They listened as Mara played a track built from a hundred small things: a kettle that whistled like a siren, the cadence of a train that had not run in years, a child's recitation of the alphabet learned from a bilingual teacher. The final piece was a composite the Traktor had helped assemble: a loop that included every neighborhood bell left in its memory. For ten minutes the bells chimed, overlapping like tide, until the sound became a single, slow pulse.

When it ended, no one leapt to their feet. There was a long, shared breath, a hush that felt like a collective admission. Then the audience rose, and the applause was not for a person or a performance but for recognition — for the acknowledgment that the city had been heard.

Mara set the Traktor down that night and for the first time in months did not feel its small weight as a liability. It had shown her that sometimes the role of an artist is to be translator, archivist, and steward. She had worried at times that the device wanted to own the stories it revealed; instead it had asked her to account for them. It had given her a responsibility she would never have chosen but now guarded fiercely.

Months later, somewhere between a press mention and the slow churn of daily life, the Traktor Pro Plus 38046DMG vanished from her apartment. There was no sign of forced entry; only the faint ring of pressed foam in the studio where it had rested and the matte-black card, now blank on both sides. Mara reported it to a police that kindly filed it away as "lost property," which is to say they provided polite forms and no answers.

She felt a brief, sharp grief and then, after a week, a strange relief. The archive remained — encrypted copies she'd made, the council's locked servers, the memory of a hundred sets. For months afterward, people would approach her in the street and say, "Do you know where that device is?" They wanted to borrow it, to see what their own city sounded like. Mara would look at them and say what she believed: it's not the machine that makes the music; it's the permission to listen.

Sometimes she would catch herself in the dark thinking she could hear the Traktor's heartbeat — the faintest, iridescent ring under a nightbird's call. She would smile and walk on.

Years later, when she was older and the theater had changed names, young DJs would ask about the story of the Traktor Pro Plus 38046DMG the way urban myths get retold — some detail amplified, others softened. Mara would tell them, briefly, of the device that made the city confess itself, and then she'd add the part nobody expected: that the point was never to own those voices, but to return them, stitched and honored, to the people who had first given them.

On a quiet morning in spring she found, on the same bench by the docks where a cassette had once been left, a small metal tag. Etched into it were three letters and five digits: DMG 38046. No note. No sender. She turned it over in her hand and felt, again, like a courier opening a box at dusk. She put it in her pocket and walked toward the market where someone was already playing a record that contained a bell she had once sampled.

The city continued to hum. The music kept mixing. And somewhere, in the circuitry of the machine that had been and perhaps was still, the memory of a producer named Mara played on, patient and honest as any livestreamed beat.

The specific topic nativeinstrumentstraktorproplus38046dmg new refers to the macOS installer for Native Instruments Traktor Pro 3.8.0.46, a version of the professional DJ software that introduced key updates to the Traktor Pro Plus subscription service.

Released around March 2023, version 3.8.0.46 was a milestone for the "Plus" subscription tier, focusing on creative expansion through drum sequencing and high-end audio processing. Overview of Traktor Pro 3.8.0.46

Traktor Pro 3 remains a flagship platform for professional DJs, supporting up to four decks, Remix Decks, and advanced looping. The 3.8.0.46 update specifically enhanced the Traktor Pro Plus add-on, which provides subscribers with exclusive tools not found in the standard perpetual license. Key Features of Version 3.8.0.46

Pattern Player Expansion: This version significantly upgraded the Pattern Player, a custom percussion loop maker. It added new drum kits curated by industry legends like Rebekah, Len Faki, and Luke Slater, allowing DJs to layer sequenced sounds from iconic drum machines directly over their mixes.

iZotope Ozone Maximizer: Integration of this professional-grade limiter from the Soundwide partnership allows DJs to maximize their master output with intelligent release control, ensuring club-ready loudness without distortion.

Performance Improvements: Version 3.8 included various bug fixes, such as addressing issues with Remix Deck saving and UI glitches in the Ozone Maximizer preference page.

Compatibility: This version is the last stable release for some older macOS versions, such as Catalina (10.15), whereas newer versions like Traktor Pro 4 require macOS 12 Monterey or higher. The Traktor Pro Plus Subscription Model

Native Instruments introduced the Pro Plus tier ($4.99/month or $49/year) to deliver a steady stream of new features outside of major version upgrades.

Traktor Pro Subscriptions, really? - Native Instruments Community

The text refers to the macOS installer for Native Instruments Traktor Pro Plus version 3.8.0.46. Released in February 2023, this update brought stability fixes for all users and exclusive creative tools for Traktor Pro Plus subscribers. Key Features in Version 3.8.0 The case arrived at dusk, a narrow rectangle

Pattern Player Customization: Subscribers can now customize pattern kits.

New Artist Kits: Includes five new kits for the Pattern Player from Florian Meindl's Riemann Kollektion.

F1 Hardware Mapping: Added factory mapping for the Traktor Kontrol F1 to control the Pattern Player.

Stability & Bug Fixes: Improved general software stability and resolved a long-standing iTunes integration issue on Windows. Important Notes for Users Native-Instruments-Traktor-Pro-Plus-3.8.0.46.dmg

💁 Native-Instruments-Traktor-Pro-Plus-3.8. 0.46. dmg - Google Drive. Google Docs Setup Traktor - Native Instruments

Traktor Pro Plus 3.8.0.46 update represents a key developmental stage in Native Instruments' (NI) DJ ecosystem, bridging the gap between traditional perpetual licensing and the experimental subscription model. Native Instruments Key Features in Version 3.8

Version 3.8 specifically enhanced the exclusive tools available to Pro Plus subscribers , focusing on rhythmic layering and output quality. Customizable Pattern Player:

The standout addition in 3.8 was the ability for users to create and save their own percussion patterns. Previously limited to factory presets, this update allowed for greater improvisational freedom by letting DJs sequence rhythmic samples directly over their mix. Expanded Hardware Integration: This version introduced native mapping for the Traktor Kontrol F1

, allowing DJs to control all aspects of the Pattern Player—such as pitch, decay, and volume—hands-on rather than via a mouse. iZotope Ozone Maximizer:

While introduced in earlier 3.6+ versions, 3.8 refined the integration of this intelligent master limiter. It utilizes algorithms from iZotope to preserve transients while boosting loudness, effectively preventing clipping without the "pumping" effect common in standard limiters. Historical Context & Current State

While Traktor Pro Plus was intended as an "ever-growing" add-on subscription, the landscape changed significantly in with the release of Traktor Pro 4

Traktor Pro 4 | Professional DJ software - Native Instruments

I notice you’re mentioning a filename that resembles Native Instruments Traktor Pro Plus 3.8.0.46.dmg — which appears to be related to DJ software.

If you’re looking for legitimate content about this version:

I cannot:

If you own a license:

If you’re troubleshooting:

Would you like official download instructions, system requirements, or feature details for Traktor Pro instead?

Native Instruments Traktor Pro Plus 3.8.0.46 represents a specific milestone in the evolution of the Traktor Pro ecosystem, bridging the gap between the perpetual license of Traktor Pro 3 and the eventual release of Traktor Pro 4. This version specifically targets macOS users looking for the stability of a .dmg installer combined with the advanced performance tools offered through the Traktor Pro Plus subscription tier. Core Features of Traktor Pro Plus 3.8.0.46

The "Plus" designation indicates an add-on subscription that unlocks exclusive tools developed by Native Instruments in collaboration with the Soundwide group (which includes iZotope, Plugin Alliance, and Brainworx).

iZotope Ozone Maximizer: This professional-grade master limiter is a standout addition. It allows DJs to boost the loudness of their output while preserving transients and minimizing distortion, ensuring a "festival-ready" sound even on smaller systems.

Pattern Player: A custom percussion loop maker that functions as a 16-step sequencer. In version 3.8, this tool received a significant update allowing for user-customizable patterns and new drum kits from well-known producers.

High-Fidelity Audio Engine: Version 3.8 continues the refinement of the sound engine, utilizing Elastique 3 time-stretching for better audio quality during heavy tempo shifts.

Parallel Waveforms: Users can view stackable parallel waveforms for all four decks, which is critical for visual beatmatching and phrase alignment. Technical Specifications & Requirements

For users searching for the nativeinstrumentstraktorproplus38046dmg file, ensure your system meets these requirements as cited by NMac and Native Instruments: Minimum Requirement Operating System

macOS 10.12 or later (including compatibility for newer macOS via Rosetta 2) Processor Intel Core i5 or faster; Apple Silicon (M-series) supported RAM 4 GB (8 GB recommended for stable performance) Architecture The "Plus" Subscription Model I cannot :

Unlike the standard Traktor Pro 3, which is a perpetual license, the features in the 3.8.0.46 "Plus" version require an active subscription, typically priced at $4.99 per month or $49 per year. If the subscription is canceled, the software reverts to the standard Traktor Pro 3 feature set, but all user settings and mappings are retained for future reactivation. Is it Worth Upgrading? Traktor Pro Plus - Native Instruments

It looks like you’re referencing a file or software package:

nativeinstrumentstraktorproplus38046dmg

This appears to be a Traktor Pro Plus disk image (.dmg) from Native Instruments, possibly version 3.8.0.46 or a variant.

A few important points:

If you need help with an official Traktor Pro Plus installation or activation issue, let me know and I’ll guide you through the proper steps.

Traktor Pro 3.8.0.46 (DMG for macOS) represents a pivotal point in Native Instruments' development cycle, introducing the Traktor Pro Plus subscription features to the established Pro 3 platform. While the core software remains a stable, professional 4-deck powerhouse, this specific version acts as a bridge between the classic Pro 3 experience and the advanced AI-driven features now found in Traktor Pro 4. Key Features and Performance

Customizable Pattern Player: A standout addition for subscribers in v3.8.0, allowing you to sequence your own rhythms across 16 steps rather than relying on presets.

iZotope Ozone Maximizer: Integrated directly from iZotope’s mastering suite, this limiter helps maintain high loudness without the "pumping" artifacts or clipping common in standard limiters.

Hardware Integration: This version finalized factory mapping for the Traktor Kontrol F1, turning it into a dedicated controller for the Pattern Player and FX units.

Resource Efficiency: Traktor remains notably lighter on CPU and system memory compared to rivals like Serato or Rekordbox, though track analysis times are significantly slower. Critical Perspectives

Users have noted both the technical maturity of the platform and the controversial shift toward subscription-only features in this version:

“The Ozone Maximizer machine learning algorithms keep the release time of the limiter in line with the input signal so that the limiting effect is transparent even at high volume.” - DJ TechTools

“The feature you're referring to is the customizable pattern player? ... it's a .. sub-feature? Half a feature? Feature upgrade in 3+ month time.” Reddit · r/traktorpro · 3 years ago Pros and Cons

| Component | Requirement | |-----------|-------------| | OS | macOS 12, 13, 14, or 15 (native Apple Silicon support) | | CPU | Intel Core i5 or Apple M1/M2/M3 | | RAM | 4 GB minimum (8 GB recommended) | | Storage | 2 GB free | | Interface | Core Audio compliant |

Finally, we have the extension: .dmg.

This tells us that this specific package was built exclusively for the macOS ecosystem. It highlights a unique dynamic in the DJ world. While many DJs use Windows laptops for their open-ended USB configurations, there is a prevailing preference for Macs in professional booths due to the stability of Core Audio and the lack of driver conflicts.

This file is the modern standard for Mac users—a disk image that mounts, installs, and integrates immediately with the Apple silicon architecture (M1, M2, and M3 chips).

The most significant word in that crowded file name is "Plus."

For years, Native Instruments’ Traktor Pro was a "buy once, own forever" proposition. It was the sturdy, German-engineered tank of the DJ world—reliable, hardware-agnostic, and a favorite of techno purists. But the industry changed. Serato embraced subscription models, and rekordbox tied software to hardware ecosystems.

When Native Instruments introduced Traktor Pro Plus, it was a controversial pivot. This filename confirms we are looking at the subscription-based version of the software. This isn't just "Traktor Pro 3"; it’s the living, breathing version that promises ongoing feature updates rather than waiting years for a major version 4.0 release.

For the user downloading this file, this implies access to features like Pattern Player (for sequencing drums), Ozone Maximizer (for mastering on the fly), and high-definition waveform coloring—features that used to require separate plugins or separate purchases.

If you searched for "nativeinstrumentstraktorproplus38046dmg new," you may have been looking for a free or cracked version of Traktor Pro. Let me explain why that is dangerous and what legitimate alternatives exist.

If you’ve been scrolling through DJ forums or looking for the latest version of Traktor Pro Plus, you might have stumbled across the cryptic filename: nativeinstrumentstraktorproplus38046dmg .

Let’s break down what this actually refers to and why it’s generating buzz in the NI community.

If you already have this build and are experiencing crashes or controller bugs:

The current legitimate version from Native Instruments is Traktor Pro 4 (not "Pro Plus 38046").