Warhammer: The Time Traveler

Chapter 24 Chen Yu's Recruitment

The workshops in the desert were immersed in a focused and orderly atmosphere.

Mann's team drove into the open area.

Pira's recovery and Rebecca's description of the mysterious "boss" and his extraordinary skills ignited their curiosity and respect, prompting them to come in person, both to pay their respects and to express their gratitude.

The workshop is bright and airy, with restored solar panels providing a steady and abundant supply of light. Several homemade work lamps cast a soft, warm white light that blends with the natural light streaming in from the windows, making the space both vibrant and tranquil.

The air was filled with the faint scent of heated metal, the aroma of clean coolant, and a subtle, almost imperceptible, refreshing ozone scent, as if a highly precise operation had just been completed.

Mann stood at the workshop entrance, his tall figure bathed in light, his gaze filled with sincere appreciation and scrutiny as he carefully examined Chen Yu's dark red robe and matte-finish mask.

Dorothy stood beside him, relaxed yet composed, her eyes filled with amazement and gratitude.

Falco, meanwhile, was keenly observing the rows of semi-finished devices, hanging tools, and quietly operating homemade equipment in the workshop—especially the servo skull that hung silently to the side, its jaw twitching slightly, which captivated the focused gaze of this technology enthusiast.

Rebecca and Pila stood to the side, their expressions a mixture of gratitude and nervousness.

Chen Yu turned around, his scarlet optical lens calmly looking at the visitor, and nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

Although the workshop is filled with various parts and instruments, it does not appear cluttered. Every tool and material is arranged in an orderly manner, revealing a set of efficient and calm technical aesthetics.

The heavy silence lasted for more than ten seconds, which felt like an eternity.

Finally, it was Mann who broke the silence.

He took a small step forward, the metal sole of his boot striking the concrete with a dull thud, his voice low and slow, carrying an undeniable weight:
“You saved my people,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “Pira… and Rebecca. I’ll remember this kindness.”

His gratitude sounded sincere and unadorned, but under the survival rules of Night City, it was a rather heavy promise.

However, the pressure and scrutiny hidden deep within those words almost solidified into reality.

Chen Yu's response was unusually calm, as if she had simply handled a routine repair order.

“An equal exchange. I fulfill the agreement, and they pay the ‘medical expenses’.” The synthesized voice came through the mask, so calm and unwavering that it completely ignored the heavy sense of obligation and the subtle probing in Mann’s words.

A mechanical tentacle silently slid out from the sleeve of his robe, rolling up a data panel on the workbench. The panel listed the rare materials consumed during Pira's treatment—materials whose value would leave any middleman in Night City speechless.

Mann's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

The other party's completely businesslike, even slightly distant, attitude thwarted his planned subsequent probing.

He took a deep breath and decided to be more direct.

The wind from the wasteland seeped in through the cracks in the door, carrying the soft sound of sand rubbing against each other.

“Rebecca said…you’re a ‘tech lone wolf.’” His gaze swept over the artifacts in the workshop that were clearly out of step with the times—precise mechanical tentacles, ancient-style yet technologically advanced servo skulls, and traces of energy remaining in the air. “But I’ve traveled all over Night City, even participated in the Corporate Wars, and I’ve never seen anything like your craftsmanship. Nor have I ever seen anything like these.”

He deliberately avoided the word "things" and chose a more neutral term, but his skepticism was obvious.

He paused for a moment, the light in his prosthetic eye intensifying slightly as he tried to capture Chen Yu's most subtle reaction—even though the dark red robe and full-coverage helmet revealed almost no readable signal.

"Where do you come from? What do you want? Why are you helping them?" The questions went straight to the heart of the matter, reflecting the deep-seated skepticism of the Night City residents towards the unknown.

Dorio leaned forward almost imperceptibly, and Falco's fingers curled unconsciously, a thin but clear tension filling the air.

In the distance, the faint murmur of the city echoed from the direction of Night City, only serving to highlight the silence and confrontation of this place.

However, Chen Yu's reaction once again exceeded their expectations.

He did not evade the issue, did not fabricate anything, and did not even show the slightest sign of being offended.

The crimson lenses simply stared steadily at Mann, as if they had already seen through all his concerns and probing.

“My origins are none of your business, Mann.” Chen Yu’s voice remained steady, yet carried an unquestionable authority.

He even called him by his first name, as if he knew him inside and out.

“As for what I want, and why I chose to ‘help’ them…” His mechanical tentacles rose gracefully, pointing at the crowd: “The answer is simple. I see your… potential value.”

These words startled Mann and the others.

Value? In this all-consuming city, the word often means exploitation and eventual abandonment.

Chen Yu continued, his tone as if stating the laws of nature: "You are familiar with the underground rules of this city and possess a certain level of operational capability and intelligence network. However, your equipment is outdated, and your prosthetic implants are crude and have poor compatibility, which severely limits your efficiency and chances of survival."

His words were like a cold line of code, precisely dissecting the current state of Mann's team. His optical lens swept over Mann's thick subcutaneous armor, Dorio's drug-enhanced limbs, and the cobbled-together sensors on Falco's body, accurately pointing out the performance bottlenecks and hidden dangers that even they themselves vaguely sensed.

“Mann, your reactive armor’s energy distribution is inefficient. Dorio, your tendons and soft tissues are worn beyond limits, and long-term medication is causing cumulative delays in neural feedback. Falco, your sensor kit has a mixed model, and your data fusion is riddled with flaws.”

With each place pointed out, the person being called out became more serious.

Everything he said was absolutely correct.

“And I,” Chen Yu raised his chin slightly, and even through the mask, one could still feel the confidence that came from absolute technical strength, “can provide technical support that you cannot even imagine.”

From basic weapon maintenance and reinforcement to customized high-performance prosthetic implants, and specialized equipment for specific missions...

It far surpasses any product circulating in the market, and even exceeds some companies' laboratory products.

He paused briefly, allowing the weight of his words to sink into the other person's heart.

The only sound in the workshop was the low hum of the equipment.

"My proposal is: work for me. No longer this piecemeal, barter-based transaction, but a deeper, more stable partnership. You will gather the resources and information I need, and carry out specific exploration or acquisition tasks."

In return, I will provide your entire team with comprehensive technical upgrades and equipment support.

Chen Yu's crimson camera finally focused on Mann's face, his words direct and almost cruel: "This will significantly improve your success rate and survival rate when carrying out 'high-risk, high-reward' missions. For example, it will prevent situations like yesterday, where you almost lost members due to equipment or physical disadvantages."

Silence returned, with only the mournful sound of the wind blowing through the scrap metal outside the workshop.

Mann stood still, the muscles on his rugged face twitching almost imperceptibly.

Chen Yu's words were like a cold and precise scalpel, dissecting his deep-seated anxiety—the bottleneck in the team's capabilities, the ever-increasing risks, and the sense of powerlessness when faced with stronger commissions.

The technical prowess displayed by the other party is undeniable; their miraculous recovery techniques and everything in the workshop are proof of that.

The equipment and cybernetics he promised were undoubtedly a huge temptation, the kind of power they desperately needed to survive and even rise in Night City.

but--

What's the cost?
Completely bound to an unknown and technologically unpredictable "employer"? Losing the independence and autonomy painstakingly maintained? What exactly are the "tasks" he demands? Will he ultimately drag the team into an abyss of no return?
His experience in corporate warfare taught him that behind every technological gift lies an unbearable price.

His gaze swept over the tools that were flashing with strange light, then over the silent skull, and alarm bells rang in his mind.

Mann was struggling internally.

On one hand, there is a desire for powerful strength and a guarantee of survival; on the other hand, there is a deep fear of the unknown and an insistence on the team's autonomy.

He glanced at Dorio beside him and saw the same shock and hesitation in her eyes; Falco's eyes were more wary, and he shook his head slightly to indicate that the risk was extremely high.

Chen Yu took in their reactions but did not urge them. He simply stood and waited, as if he were a probability calculation machine that had already anticipated their hesitation.

The servo skull silently floated to his shoulder, and the faint light in its eye sockets swept over each member of Mann's team, conducting continuous biosignal analysis.

“This…is no small matter.” Mann finally spoke, his voice even hoarser and heavier than before, each word seeming to be squeezed from his chest. “I need time…I need to consider it. I need to discuss it with my people.”

He had to weigh the options, assess the true intentions of this mysterious "boss," and take responsibility for the entire team.

“Okay.” Chen Yu’s answer was crisp and decisive, as if it had been pre-programmed. “But my proposal is not valid indefinitely. Come back next time and give me your answer. And,” he turned to Rebecca beside him, “the first batch of 'medical expenses'.”

He said nothing more, turned and walked to his workbench, seemingly having put the negotiation that could determine the future of a team out of his mind, and immersed himself back in his technical world.

The tall, dark red figure, under the cold white light, exuded an almost absolute, suffocating sense of technical authority and alienation.

A mechanical touch deftly coiled up an unfinished part, and the laser soldering pen lit up with a dazzling blue-white light, hissing as if nothing had ever happened.

Mann stared intently at the retreating figure, his expression extremely complex.

He ultimately said nothing, only giving Dorio and Falco a wink to signal them to leave.

The group silently drove away from the mysterious workshop hidden in the desert ruins and stepped back into the sunlight of the wasteland.

The engine roared again, carrying heavy thoughts and a choice that could change everyone's fate, bumping and jolting its way back to that neon-lit, perilous steel jungle.

Behind them, the lights of the workshop gradually disappeared behind the sand dunes, like a secret that briefly awakened and then quietly closed again.

(End of this chapter)