Warhammer: The Time Traveler

Chapter 15 Return to Night City

The neon lights of Night City spread like a proliferating virus under the thick layer of pollution, turning the entire sky into a sickly purplish-red.

Acid rain occasionally pelted the car windows, leaving dirty marks.

Rebecca gripped the steering wheel tightly. The repaired Goodwood had finally stopped belching black smoke, but it still felt like it was about to fall apart at any moment.

The tires rolled over puddles, splashing up dirty water that reflected the messy light pollution from advertisements, like an overturned palette.

Pila sat restlessly in the passenger seat, his metal fingers repeatedly rubbing the newly "optimized" interface on his left shoulder, the bionic skin and mechanical parts rubbing together with a teeth-grinding sound.

The car sped across the overpass, the bridge covered in corporate advertisements like some kind of visual plague.

The desolate wasteland was gradually swallowed up by the chaotic giant buildings.

On a holographic billboard, a virtual idol blows kisses to the traffic, while below, the alleyway wafts the acrid smell of burning garbage and chemicals.

The air was a mixture of the pungent smell of exhaust pipes, the greasiness of stir-fried dishes, and that ever-present, burnt smell of electronic components—that was the damn smell of Night City.

"It felt like an eternity," Rebecca muttered to herself.

The newly installed prosthetic eye automatically adjusts its aperture, and neon lights float on her green iris.

The optical components silently focus, bringing the details of a gang shootout a few blocks away to life—bullet trails, concrete debris, and a staggering figure falling to the ground.

She quickly looked away; now was not the time to invite trouble.

“It was like a trip to hell.” Pila adjusted his flashy fluorescent goggles and sighed. “I still have to make up a story to fool Boss Mann… I have a creepy feeling about this, little sister. That ‘Red Robe Monster’… that thing he was wearing…”

He unconsciously touched the back of his neck, where there was only a barely visible micro-injury mark.

“Shut up, Pila!” Rebecca hissed in a low voice, like a wildcat that had been provoked. “Keep the same story! We just stumbled upon a tech lone wolf in the desert! He’s weird, but his skills are fucking amazing!”
He fixed the car, healed your sprained shoulder, and upgraded my eyesight, all in exchange for getting him some 'special stuff'! It's that simple!

"What robes, bones, and those... tentacle-like things... keep them all rotting inside me!"

She paused, her tone softening slightly: "It's not that we're going to keep it from the boss forever... it's just that we can't say it now. Those things are too eerie; if we told Mann, he'd think we'd lost our minds."

"Once we get what he wants and complete the first transaction, let him see the benefits of the real thing firsthand... then we'll lay our cards on the table."

“Okay, okay…” Pila raised her hands in surrender, “But Boss Mann isn’t so easily fooled.”

“That’s why we have to hold on tight!” Rebecca slammed her hand on the steering wheel in frustration, the horn blaring like a wheezing horn. “Think about what he gave us! Think about the high-end goods he promised! Think about how we weren’t chopped up and fed to the garbage compactor by the mob! This little risk is nothing!”

She gave a sly smile, revealing her sharp canine teeth. "We didn't lie completely, just not the whole truth, understand? Once the deal is done and Mann sees the benefits with his own eyes, it'll be easier to explain then. If we tell him now, he'll definitely think it's too risky and cut off the connection immediately."

Pila shook his head helplessly, but his eyes gradually became more determined.

In Night City, power and opportunity are like oxygen, and the mysterious "Red Robe Monster" gave them both.

Keeping secrets? It's just the price of survival.

The car rolled over the broken asphalt road and entered the Watson District North Industrial Park.

Rusty pipes crisscrossed overhead, like the veins of a giant.

They turned into a warehouse with a sign that read "Abandoned Logistics Company," their tires running over years of accumulated oil stains.

This is where Mann's team's temporary base is located.

The engine was turned off, and the silence in the warehouse was broken by a familiar sound of footsteps.

Dorothy's tall figure emerged from the shadows first, her sharp gaze sweeping over the vehicle and the two people, her face a mixture of worry and suppressed anger.

"You two little bastards!" She strode closer, her voice trembling with rage. "Four whole days! No word from you! We thought you'd been dismantled and sold for scrap by the Luan Dao Gang!"

Rebecca and Pila hurriedly got out of the car. "Hey, Dorio! Relax!" Pila tried to hide her nervousness with her usual flippant manner. "We're back safe and sound, aren't we?"

"All intact?" Mann's deep voice came from the deeper shadows.

He strode out, his massive body exuding an invisible pressure. His prosthetic eyes flashed with a cold, scanning light as he scrutinized the two men. "Your car doesn't look 'complete'."

His gaze lingered on Rebecca's unusually clear prosthetic eye and Pila's freely movable left shoulder. "And... you two look like you've 'leveled up'."

Rebecca's heart skipped a beat, but she quickly put on an expression that was a mixture of smugness and lingering fear: "Damn, don't even mention it! We almost didn't make it back! Those cyber lunatics from the Chaotic Blade Society chased us until we were out of ammunition and supplies, and our car was practically riddled with holes!"

"So how did you escape?" Falco's voice drifted down from the iron staircase on the second-floor platform.

He leaned against the rusty railing, holding a data tablet in his hand, his eyes as sharp as a gun scope.

Pila picked up the conversation and began reciting their carefully crafted story: a desperate escape in the desert, stumbling upon a half-buried repair shop, and encountering a reclusive, top-notch, but eccentric tech lone wolf.

They carefully filtered out all the supernatural and bizarre details, packaging the other party as a typical cyber world freak.

“He’s amazing!” Rebecca interjected at the opportune moment, exaggerating the capabilities of her new prosthetic eye. “Look! He replaced it for me! It’s so clear I can count how many eyes a fly has 500 meters away! He even fixed Pira’s leaky, broken shoulder on the side!”

"The price..." she shrugged, pointing to the chip in the car that contained the other party's list of supplies and data collection requirements, "is to help him get some tough stuff—military standard battery cells, prototype neural interfaces for specific frequencies, and some restricted alloys."

He also wanted us to record the "market gossip" and "gang spiel" from the streets. He said he needed to "research materials," and only those that were "to his liking."

Mann listened in silence, his expression unreadable.

Dorothy crossed her arms, her brow furrowing deeper and deeper.

Falco was silently recording something on the data panel.

“A lone tech wolf? In a place like that? And he needs all this?” Mann finally spoke, his tone calm but full of pressure. “What name did he give? Which company did he work for before?”

“He didn’t say,” Rebecca shook her head, trying to keep her expression natural. “He seemed like the kind of old-fashioned tough guy who hated the company and just wanted to do things his own way. His shack was shabby, but his tools were top-notch, and his skills were impeccable!”

“He said that although these things were difficult to handle, they were crucial to his ‘project,’ and he was willing to exchange them for better technology.” She silently added in her mind: It’s not too late to explain those strange parts after you’ve seen what he gave you with your own eyes.

Mann's gaze swept back and forth between the two like a searchlight, sharpening his senses to capture every subtle physiological reaction.

Rebecca felt a faint burning sensation at the implant site on the back of her neck, as if it was about to be exposed at any moment.

Pila unconsciously avoided direct eye contact.

A brief silence fell over the warehouse, broken only by the faint sound of sirens from the distant street and the electrical noise of fluorescent tubes overhead.

Ultimately, Mann seemed to accept this explanation for the time being.

He nodded slightly: "It's good that everyone is alright. Next time we take a job, we'll find out more about their background."

“Falco, verify the list they brought back.”

"Dorio, get them something to eat."

The crisis appears to have been temporarily averted.

Rebecca and Pila breathed a sigh of relief, but knew this was just the beginning.

Mann's doubts had not completely dissipated, and the secret they were hiding was like a ticking bomb buried inside their bodies.

The brother and sister exchanged a glance, both seeing the tension and determination in each other's eyes.

This secret must remain buried in my heart for now.

(End of this chapter)