"No, you don't understand. That kind of turbofan efficiency is just too high—the entire chanical structure is incredibly refined!
Honestly, even our engineers are having a hard ti understanding it. Are you sure there's no company backing them?"
Inside the garage, Sherman was still thinking about the flying motorcycle.
He had ridden hovercars before. As a car manufacturer, they had access to plenty of technical data.
But to use such a small turbofan to achieve that kind of performance? He had never seen anything like it.
**"Hey, don't say you haven't seen it—I haven't either. Back when I was at the company... ah, never mind, it's not important.
One thing's for sure—they're definitely not corporate lackeys. You'd have to be blind not to see that."**
El Capitain waved his hand dismissively and poured two glasses of liquor, looking quite at ease.
He was just a fixer—working under a boss, making so money, growing so businesses, and occasionally doing so good. Not a bad life.
As for the mysterious feats surrounding Leo…
It was like those mind-boggling pieces of black-market tech that occasionally surfaced on the Old Net—so things in this world were just beyond understanding.
Based on what the three big bosses had been doing recently, the El Capitain felt like sticking with "Boss" was the right move.
Sherman took a sip of his drink but still couldn't stop thinking about the motorcycle. "I have to figure out a way to get my hands on that thing…"
El Capitain shot him a warning glare. "Don't go down the wrong path. If you do, I'll be the first to deal with you."
**"Relax, that won't happen. Think about it—flying motorcycles! If we can manufacture them, they'd sell like crazy.
I'm just looking out for the boss. At the end of the day, we're all just workers. Doesn't matter who we work for.
And honestly, this boss has real vision! One hand on technology, the other leading a whole group of outcasts—he's practically ruling the city!
This is exactly how taCorp started out!"**
"You're not wrong."
Just as El Capitain spoke, he received a ssage:
[Sender: Burger King]
[Burger King: Open up, got a transfer.]
"They're back. Keep your wits about you."
"Don't worry, choom."
Sherman adjusted his clothes. Just now, he had gotten a good read on the temperants of these bosses from his talk with the El Capitain.
He sent a ssage to his engineers—it was ti to get to work.
When Mackinaw rolled in with a truckload of goods, it was deep into the night. The streets of Santo Domingo were nearly deserted.
Workers were on their night shifts, and everyone else avoided going out unless absolutely necessary.
The truck slowly pulled into the garage.
The lackeys checked their surroundings, ensuring no one was watching, before shutting the rolling door.
Bang.
The cargo ramp dropped, and the engineers rolled in their carts, preparing to unload everything.
Jackie and V stretched, effortlessly making their way to the VIP lounge, while Leo supervised the unloading.
"Prepare a workspace for . I need to inspect the cargo—I'll pay you."
El Capitain rubbed his face. "No need, I couldn't possibly charge you for that.
But I did hear sothing just now—Militech is investigating all recent vehicle traffic in and out of Night City. They want us to provide intel."
Before he could finish speaking, the cargo carts rolled out a massive ch.
Its towering barrel and jet-black riot shield imdiately stood out—it was unmistakably made of high-end composite materials.
As the vehicle moved under the garage lights, the lettering on the ch beca clearly visible:
"Militech."
El Capitain and Sherman exchanged glances, each seeing the shock in the other's eyes.
This was definitely a military-grade linear fra!
Strictly forbidden for civilian use—equipnt ant for the battlefield!
Leo had brought back two chs from the convoy—one fully intact Centaur ch, and another that had been pierced by V. Both were still in relatively good condition.
The two chs were carefully unloaded.
The engineers looked at Sherman, unsure of what to do. Without hesitation, Sherman activated a tool embedded in his cybernetic arm—a high-powered arc welder.
Sparks flew.
In no ti, "Militech" was altered into "Litemach"—from "Military Technology" to "Light Machinery"—leaving almost no trace of modification.
Sherman bowed slightly to Leo, presenting his work.
Leo gave him a subtle nod. Not bad. On the right track.
The El Capitain was impressed—his corporate instincts had dulled a little since leaving the ga.
But still… calling this thing "Light Machinery"—wasn't that a bit too ridiculous?
Now it made sense why Militech was so desperate. Their military-grade chs had been stolen.
"Alright, Boss, but this thing is too hot to hold onto. Keeping it here isn't safe."
"I know. Soone will pick it up soon—I just need to inspect it for tracking devices first."
"Understood. Follow —the workshop's in the back."
Jackie and V had already settled into the VIP lounge, while Leo followed the El Capitain to the workshop.
The place was mainly used for modifying cars, but if they could mod cars, they could handle Centaur chs too.
Honestly, the El Capitain and Sherman might have looked calm, but deep down, they were barely holding back their shock.
In a cyberpunk world, a linear fra was essentially an external exoskeleton.
Externally, it looked like a suit of reinforced armor, integrating directly with the user's skeleton and muscles through a neural link.
These exoskeletons were ranked from lowest to highest: Σ, β, and Ω.
As a police-grade linear fra for the NCPD, the Centaur ch was classified as Σ-grade, capable of lifting 600 kg—but only in theory.
Anyone actually trying to lift that much would be crushed. If they weren't built for it, they'd die.
What made the Centaur truly military-grade, though, were its rail cannon and riot shield.
The riot shield could withstand almost any firearm found in Night City, as well as mines and grenades.
And the plasma cannon…
Leo had been wanting one for a long ti.
Last ti, in the Badlands, all he found were damaged plasma cannons—single-use and completely worthless afterward.
But this one was intact. And very useful.
The linear fra itself also gave Leo so ideas—upgrading his cybernetic arms and enhancing Jackie's hands.
Once the disassembly was complete, everything was loaded onto a transport. Leo removed his gloves and sat at the table.
Sherman eagerly stepped forward. "Boss, about that flying motorcycle… you guys already used it, right? Do you think we could make our own?"
"I was already considering it, but I'll decide how production is handled."
The turbofan involved Adrian's tech. Leo planned to encrypt the design by splitting production across different locations.
Sherman nodded. "This stuff needs to stay secret. What if I move my people over to the Aldecaldos? Safer there.
I'll personally make sure they stay in line!"
Leo thought for a mont. "Alright."
"Great! I'll have them start packing."
Sherman turned and started organizing his team.
Leo turned to the El Capitain. "Any other news?"
"Yeah, two things. First, like I said—Militech is on the hunt."
"Got it. What about the Maelstrom?"
"Oh, now that is interesting!" The El Capitain grinned. **"They got a new boss—guy nad Royce.
They had a civil war in Watson, tore up Totentanz—their own damn bar!
The old boss? Vanished. And there's so guy nad Carter who's butting heads with Royce."**
"That'll change soon."
Leo pulled up his contact list: Chesson, Rosanne, and Brick.
Two arms dealers and a gang boss in exile—
The perfect way to spend so money.
[Recipient: Brick]
[Mysterious Hero: Hey, you left in a rush earlier. Forgot to ntion—I run a little arms business in the city. If you ever need anything, hit up.]
[Brick: I need it RIGHT NOW! Give everything you've got—the deadlier, the better!]
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