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Now reading: Chapter 128: Shake Down from Fallout Game Merchant 2.0, a Game novel by WarmHoney.

Ding!

[Quest Complete: Boulder City Showdown]

[Objective: Free Hostages via Negotiation by talking with Jessup]

[Reward: Rare Silver-Tier Item Electro-whip]

Electro-whip:

An electrified whip the preferred thod of domination for the subjugation of slaves taken by the Zygerrian Slave Empire. It consisted of a tal grip and an electrified, retractable wire that glowed when powered up, and automatically retracted into the grip when the weapon was powered off. The whips were designed to stun, and although they were painful, they were not typically physically damaging, as Zygerrian enslavers preferred not to irreparably damage their rchandise. Electro-whips could withstand the blade of a lightsaber while powered up.

Ding!

[Level Up!]

[Level 27 has been reached!]

Six felt the rush of newfound strength and skill surge through him once more. His reflexes sharpened, his movents felt even more precise, and his mind processed combat scenarios with heightened clarity.

He brought up his Pip-Boy and imdiately allocated his skill points, pushing LEE WEAPONS to 96, ensuring that his already deadly close-combat abilities beca even more refined. The Electro-Whip in his hands buzzed with energy, a fitting weapon to match his increasing mastery of lee combat.

Then ca the perk selection. He scrolled through the options, considering his next move carefully. After a mont, he selected Action Boy, granting him 15 Action Points, making him even more of a whirlwind in combat.

Six grinned as the electro-whip materialized in his hands, the grip cold and tallic. With a flick of his wrist, the wire extended, crackling with electric energy.

Rebecca arched an eyebrow.

"Really? A whip?"

Six smirked, giving it an experintal crack in the air.

"Hey, don’t judge. It’s a rare silver-tier item."

She chuckled, arms crossed.

"Just saying, if I catch you using that on in the wrong way, you’re sleeping on the couch."

Six shot her a playful wink.

"No promises."

Shaking her head, she gestured toward the rchant facility they’d built in Boulder City.

"Co on, let’s see if we can actually get so work done before another crisis shows up."

Six powered down the whip, the wire retracting smoothly into its handle. He clipped it onto his belt next to his usual arsenal. With his lee skills at near perfection and extra action points fueling his reflexes, he felt deadlier than ever.

"Yeah."

He said, following her.

"Let’s get back to business—before the wasteland decides to throw another ss our way."

The crew was on the snowed road again, speeding down the highway with the clouded sky. The occasional traveler or trader would look at them in shock and surprise as the moving fortress, War Bus past them.

The War Bus rumbled forward, its reinforced fra cutting through the icy wind like a steel beast. Snow crunched beneath its heavy tires, leaving deep tracks along the cracked asphalt. The sky above was a thick blanket of gray, hinting at another incoming storm.

The 188 Trading Post lood ahead, a cluster of makeshift stalls and tents sprawled beneath the crumbling highway overpass.

Even in the dead of winter, traders and scavengers bustled about, exchanging goods and stories under the gray, snow-laden sky. Smoke from small fires curled upward, mingling with the crisp, frigid air.

As the War Bus roared closer, its sheer size and ominous presence stirred a wave of murmurs among the gathered rchants and wanderers. Many turned to watch, eyes wide with a mix of awe and apprehension.

A few instinctively stepped back, giving the massive vehicle plenty of space as it approached.

However, not everyone was impressed.

A line of NCR soldiers had already positioned themselves in the middle of the road, rifles raised, forming a human barricade. Their expressions were stern, their postures rigid.

The lead soldier, Corporal Reynolds, cupped his hands and shouted, his voice barely cutting through the growl of the engine.

"You there! Keep your hands where we can see them!"

Rebecca, seated beside Six, scowled.

"You’d think after everything we’ve done for the NCR, they’d show a little gratitude."

She leaned forward, crossing her arms.

"What’s the holdup?"

Reynolds took a step closer, his grip tightening on his rifle.

"You’re on New California Republic territory, operating an unidentified vehicle without clearance. All unauthorized technology is subject to requisitioning under NCR law. You will cede the vehicle and any other advanced technology you possess."

Six felt his jaw tighten. His grip on the wheel flexed. He let out a scoff, shaking his head.

"Huh. That’s how the NCR operates now? Just stealing from civilians at gunpoint? What makes you any different from the Brotherhood of Steel?"

Reynolds didn’t so much as blink.

"This is standard procedure. You will comply or face the consequences."

Six exhaled through his nose, fighting the urge to put a bullet between the man’s eyes. Instead, he squared his shoulders, his voice carrying the weight of soone who had seen far too much of this kind of bureaucratic bullshit.

"I am Six VI of the VI rchant Family. We’ve supplied the NCR with food, weapons, and dicine. Hell, we’re practically keeping your whole damn war effort running. And this is how you repay us? No wonder traders are starting to prefer the Legion."

A few gasps rippled through the onlookers, and more than a few traders began murmuring to each other, their expressions darkening.

Many of them were independent rchants who had long felt the NCR’s grip tightening on their livelihoods. If the Republic was willing to pull sothing like this on Six, what was stopping them from doing the sa to everyone else?

Reynolds’ sneer faltered, but only for a mont. He pulled out his radio, stepping away to speak with his superiors. Boone watched him closely, his hand hovering near his rifle.

Raul let out a sigh.

"We really gonna die on this hill?"

Six didn’t take his eyes off the soldiers.

"Damn right we are. If they think they can just take from without consequences, they’ve got another thing coming."

After a tense few minutes, Reynolds returned, his expression as sour as ever.

"Fine. You are free to go—but you’ll need to register your vehicle. That’ll be two hundred caps. No paynt, no clearance, and we confiscate the vehicle."

Six narrowed his eyes.

"You’re charging for driving my own damn vehicle in the Mojave?"

Reynolds folded his arms.

"That’s the rule. Take it or leave it."

Rebecca had had enough. She shoved the door open and stord toward the corporal, fire in her eyes.

"Listen here, you ass—"

POW!

The butt of Reynolds’ rifle slamd into Rebecca’s head before she could finish, sending her visibly pregnant self sprawling onto the icy pavent.

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