Interdimensional Scientist, Starting from Cyberpunk

Vehicle manufacturing isn't Militech's forte, nor is it their primary business.

But the Behemoth Armored Vehicle, as part of their armored vehicle lineup, has consistently ranked on the "Most Trusted Armored Vehicles" list, dominating a large portion of the high-end armored vehicle market.

Seeing this vehicle, Andrew quickly dispelled any doubts he had—

Because this vehicle isn't sold to the public at all; only government entities and corporations can purchase this armored beast. Every day, Militech uses this vehicle to transport soldiers across the border.

Figuring they were corporate suits on business, Andrew decided it was best not to ask too many questions.

Thus, he introduced Leo to the mechanic, Mike—to hurry up and fix the car so they can leave.

"Wow… this is the first time I've touched this kind of vehicle. Even with 3.8 cm of armor plating and a windshield that can withstand heavy machine-gun fire, the powerful drive still allows the Behemoth to operate in the worst conditions.

Oh, look at this massive cargo hold… wait a minute, why does it seem like part of the cargo hold is missing?"

The Behemoth's rear compartment could seat people and had pop-out cargo holds on both sides. It was one of these pop-out cargo holds that Leo and V had removed.

Mechanic Mike was already deeply fascinated by the vehicle—unlike the beat-up cars driven by nomads, this was a true beast.

But why was a part missing? No wonder the vehicle seemed to have a "high-low" imbalance.

Leo smiled, "Just fix it, and don't ask questions."

"Uh…" Mike's heart tightened; the sheriff had already warned him not to be nosy. "Okay, sir. I think it might be a misaligned circuit…"

"Just fix it," Leo checked the time. "I'm giving you two hours. If it's done right, you'll get a tip. If not… you might lose some of your 'performance pay.'

Where's the comms tower?"

"It's not far, just turn right 300 meters out the door, then left. You'll see it, you can use it freely."

Leo nodded slightly, signaling V to follow him.

Once outside, Leo spotted the comms tower not far away. In the barren wasteland, it stood out conspicuously.

Connecting the communicator to the comms tower would allow him to find the sheriff's frequency over a wide area and contact the person he needed—Willy McCoy, the nomad fixer.

Climbing the comms tower gave a greater sense of how desolate the place was.

In reality, from a higher vantage point looking out at the wasteland, it wasn't entirely empty—you could see many ghost towns.

These ghost towns were left behind by companies that wanted to develop the wilderness but went bankrupt before they could begin, now serving as camps for nomads.

V found the right connector in the fuse box and hooked up the mobile radio. "So we're getting the nomads to help us smuggle?

Do you know how Night City sees them? They're considered society's parasites, criminals hiding in the Badlands."

"Of course I know, but in reality, true nomads were farmers just a few decades ago. Many of the buildings in Night City and Washington were built by them, as well as the ghost towns and oil wells in the Badlands.

You're from Heywood, just think of them as wandering Heywoodians."

"That's terrifying—the idea of wandering Heywoodians sounds as bad as locusts."

Bzzz—

The communicator buzzed.

"Hello? Who is this?"

Leo immediately replied, "Dennis Burgerking. You must be Willy McCoy, right? Got some questions for you. Do you offer smuggling services as of today?"

"Ah—who are you? Someone saw a Behemoth roll into town this morning. That's you?"

"You ask, I answer. If you want to make money, keep your mouth shut."

"Hmph—you think everyone's like you, willing to do anything for money? I don't trust you corpo scum."

"Fifty thousand euro."

". . . I said no."

"Hundred thousand."

"I . . ."

"Tough guy, huh? One hundred fifty thousand."

On the other end, McCoy's thought process was clearly getting disrupted—

Remember, nomads are dirt poor, far poorer than you'd imagine.

Besides vehicles, they lack weapons, medicine, cyberware, food, even clothes.

Nomad fixers don't fare much better. In the wasteland, besides freedom, there's nothing; making money is incredibly hard.

So everyone relies on so-called "family ties" to support each other—of course, this also significantly lowers people's expectations for high rewards.

One hundred fifty thousand euro was a number they could barely dream of.

McCoy's breathing grew heavier, but he quickly regained his composure. "Damn it, devil! Shut up! I… I told you, it's not about the money!

The border checkpoint isn't processing customs clearances right now, no one can smuggle anything through, got it? At least not for another three months!

There's no way to get you clearance right now!"

V's heart sank—no way they could wait three months in this godforsaken place.

She looked at Leo, only to find him smiling slightly, completely at ease as he said, "Good, it seems you know the rules."

"What? You… you're trying to con me!"

"Not entirely—I see, you're saying that it's impossible now, which means that previously cleared goods haven't gone through yet? Names, locations—I suspect this batch might be related to Militech."

"You bastard, you… you…"

"What's the rush? I'm just suspicious it's related to a corporation. I'm not affiliated with any corporation—how about this, give me the job, and I'll help the client move the goods.

And I'm still willing to give you a hundred thousand as a referral fee."

On the other end, McCoy immediately shut off the communicator.

He was impressed by Leo's ability to lie with a straight face—everything Leo said pointed to one conclusion, that he was an undercover Militech operative investigating recent smuggling activities!

But he hadn't directly said it, instead offering McCoy a hard-to-refuse deal and giving him an out.

Now McCoy couldn't tell if Leo was actually investigating or just trying to make a quick buck—or maybe both.

His flushed face quickly cooled as he took a drag on his cigarette. Just as he was about to speak, Leo added:

"Think about it—a thousand euro is enough to buy a nomad family's meds for half a year. If you use it for CHOOH2 fuel, it's enough to run a convoy for four or five months."

McCoy was puzzled—what did that mean? Was he trying to tempt him?

But didn't he just offer a reward of a hundred thousand euro?

Leo continued, "Too bad, time is money. The offer is now ninety thousand euro. Congratulations, you just lost your meds and fuel."

McCoy's face, which had just cooled, turned red with anger again—

"Damn it, you're screwing with me? You're driving a Militech Behemoth, and you expect me to tell the client that this guy is helping them smuggle?

Who's going to believe that?"

"Eighty thousand euro—I can pretend to be a Bakkers family nomad who refuses to join the Snake Nation. But the vehicle is indeed an issue.

So you'll have to lend me a car. The good news is, I can leave my car with you as collateral. Car is life, right?

Okay, now it's seventy thousand euro."

McCoy felt his heart pounding harder with each word—money, all that money!

"Bastard! We're still negotiating, aren't we?"

"But you haven't accepted yet, so I'm just deducting some of my budget to make up for the time I've wasted—sixty thousand euro."

McCoy lost his composure—within just a few moments, he had lost a year's worth of fuel for a convoy! And medicine, food...

He hated Leo for reminding him what a thousand euro could get, now all he could think about was the money he was losing!

He had to make a decision!

"Alright, alright, alright! You damn dog, is there anything besides money that matters to you? Fine! I'll do it!"

Leo's tone shifted, from the previous light-hearted to a cold, stern one: "Since that's settled, I'm now your superior and client, so do your job well.

And with your filthy language, it seems no one ever taught you how to speak properly?

Mr. Lacks Everything Including Money McCoy, the price is now fifty thousand euro. Want to take a moment to think it over?"

McCoy nearly ground his teeth to dust—making money had never been so difficult.

"No need! I'll send someone with the car right now! Yes, you stay where you are! I don't want to reveal the tribe's location to you… dear client!"

As soon as he finished speaking, V burst out laughing, silently giving Leo a thumbs-up, mouthing: "That was awesome, Leo."

She felt like McCoy's tongue had almost twisted into a knot.

Good thing the wind was strong; otherwise, if McCoy had heard her laughing, he'd probably drop dead from anger.

Leo smiled and continued, "Then I'll wait here for you. I'm giving you three hours."