"My eyes feel dirty."
That's what Oliver, now behind the wheel, kept muttering the entire ride.
He was the only one among the trio who couldn't fight his curiosity and actually read through that disturbingly philosophical mess—and now he looked dazed.
He never imagined words alone could hit harder than braindance, etching themselves into his mind and straight-up wounding his soul.
"You knew it was messed up and still kept reading. Looked to me like you were into it. Don't tell me that's your thing."
"Piss off, Jackie. You're the one into that sick crap. I like normal women."
Grumbling, Oliver rested his left hand on the wheel and rubbed his eyes with his right as they sat at a red light.
"I just feel… polluted. I got curious, wanted to see how it ended, and boom—now it's stuck in my head."
"So basically, the writing wasn't half bad?"
Leaning back in the rear seat, Karl stared out the window at the luxury cars cruising past on the City Center strip.
"Anyway… we've been driving this Hera for a while now. Don't you think it's time we picked up something with four seats—and maybe bulletproof?"
"It's barely been a month! What do you mean 'a while'? You just got bored, Karl. This Hera's a damn fine ride and you're already eyeing a new toy?"
"Am I really that fickle…?"
Karl tapped his cheek, thinking about how he'd never actually driven the car even once.
"I never got anything new, so how can I already be tired of it? I was just wondering if maybe you'd want something faster, Oliver. I mean—"
His eyes stayed locked on the flow of traffic outside, watching cars speed past them.
"In terms of speed, this Hera doesn't cut it. What if we have to tail someone and can't keep up?"
"Can't keep up, huh…"
Oliver thought about it. Yeah, Karl had a point.
The Hera wasn't exactly a performance beast. There were times on past gigs when Oliver had wanted to ram a fleeing car and force a stop—but always eased off. The Hera just didn't have the guts to survive a head-on hit. One wrong move and the front end would fold.
"So what kind of car's got both speed and durability?"
"No clue."
Karl wasn't a car guy. No surprise there.
But he did have a plan.
"What I do know is that cars can be modded. I once rode in Johnson's Enforcer—the cop version of the Hera. Fully tricked out, fast and rock solid. Took a hit straight on and the front didn't even flinch. I'm just thinking—can't we get ours upgraded like that?"
"You're saying turn our Hera into something like a patrol Enforcer?"
Jackie scratched his chin.
"Honestly? I'm in. Everyone knows NCPD doesn't mess around behind the wheel. They'll pit you before they ever bother drawing a gun."
"So, what? We hit up Johnson and ask how the Enforcer's built?"
Hearing that, Karl shook his head.
"Thing is, the NCPD mods are just upgrades on top of a pre-modified base model straight from Hera Corp. Unless Johnson's willing to hand us one and let us strip it down piece by piece to copy it, we're outta luck."
"So we commission a custom build? That's gonna cost a ton…"
Oliver winced at the thought of spending the eddies he'd just scraped together.
Still, he didn't hesitate much.
"We can talk to someone from Hera Corp. Gotta be some contacts through a fixer or two. And we're working with the Old Captain, right? Dude's a used-car pro. After this job, we hit him up—he's gotta know someone."
"There's actually a simpler, cheaper way."
Karl figured Oliver was forgetting the obvious.
"If we're talking about car mods, no one knows that better than the folks in the Badlands. You forgot about V? He's helping T-BUG with that cyber-dog right now. Once they're done, we can roll the Hera out there and let him take a look.
Nomads know vehicles better than anyone in the city."
"V, huh…"
Oliver remembered how V instantly recognized the type and specs of his cyber-eye during their first meet.
Thinking about his nomad roots—it made sense.
These were the same guys who stormed a Scav camp 50 deep for just 30k eddies. Prices from them would be fair. Maybe even dirt cheap.
"Alright then. Once T-BUG's done with the dog, we'll reach out to V. No job—just a ride through the Badlands to let the Hera breathe."
With the plan settled, the Hera came to a stop.
"Target spotted."
Oliver stared out the left window at the chip bookstore crowded with people. His eyes scanned the group—built like tanks.
"Definitely Animals. Just look at those meat slabs. Jackie, even if you trained your whole life, you'd never catch up."
"Come on, those guys are juiced to hell. Me? I just down some protein powder here and there," Jackie replied with a shrug.
"So what now? Go in and flatline 'em all?"
"Shooting at night's too loud. Gunshots'll echo like crazy. This is downtown—NCPD'll be here in sixty seconds, tops."
Karl shook his head.
"Besides, I heard Johnson's been posted around City Center lately. Let's not stir up trouble on his turf. A direct hit's out of the question."
"I'll keep driving. Gonna find a place to park."
Oliver pressed the gas again.
"These Animals won't stay here forever. Sooner or later they'll head back. We just follow, pick the right spot, and handle business."
"Remember—the leader's gotta stay alive."
Karl added,
"I still need to squeeze out where he stashed the ride Old Captain wants back."
"Let's think worst-case."
Jackie checked his weapon.
"I don't see the car outside the shop. If they left it back at their turf, we'll have to pay Pacifica a visit after cleanup."
"And that's exactly why this gig's worth 80k eddies."
Karl didn't seem bothered at all.
Pacifica, huh?
He'd never been.
.
.
.
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