[Acquired: €$12,446]
[Acquired: M2067 Defender Shotgun * 1 (Improved)]
[Acquired: Military-Spec Tactical Knife (Improved)]
[Acquired: Ammo Crate]
[Acquired: Bounce-Back Mk.1]
[Acquired: Fragmentation Grenade * 6]
…
Jake looked at the long list in his inventory, the corners of his mouth curling up uncontrollably.
Converted into real cash, this money would probably be nearly a hundred thousand!
He hit the jackpot!
He selected the best gun models to keep, restocked some ammo and consumables, and dumped all the low-tier white weapons.
Since he didn’t know how to dismantle cyberware, he could only abandon those as well.
“Time to pay El Capitan a visit.”
Jake opened the map, marked the location of the Santo Domingo Dam Overlook, and started the vehicle.
El Capitan?
David froze for a moment.
Muamar Reyes—known to all as El Capitan.
As a street kid raised in Santo Domingo, there was no one who didn’t know this name.
He was an all-knowing fixer in Santo Domingo, and also the mastermind behind the AutoFixer website.
So he’s planning to sell the car to him?
David couldn’t help but ponder.
What is this evil spirit’s motive behind doing this…?
The vehicle departed Watson, following the mapped route toward Santo Domingo.
The performance of the Type 66 “Hoon” far exceeded that of ordinary cars.
Even on the intricate, chaotic streets of Night City, it darted through traffic as nimbly as a fish in water.
The car entered the Santo Domingo district.
The “Hoon” was wildly out of place with its surroundings, like a scantily clad woman drawing countless envious, greedy, or curious gazes.
Along the way, they passed by several 6th Street outposts.
The gangers’ faces lacked their usual ruthless swagger, replaced instead by heavy anxiety, as if they had stumbled into some major crisis.
After all, nearly thirty of their men had just been wiped out…
Having shaken off 6th Street’s pursuit, David felt much relieved.
Looking at these local Santo Domingo tyrants now, his eyes no longer held the instinctual urge to avoid them at all costs.
The car drove along an uphill road.
It headed straight for the dam overlook extending out over the cliff.
The overlook was vast and empty.
Stubborn weeds sprouted from the cracks in the pavement.
The guardrails were heavily rusted.
In the distance, the desolate expanse of Rancho Coronado glowed golden under the sunset glow.
There was only one car parked here: a Thorton Galena “Rattler”.
It was an impeccably maintained vintage sedan, with a man leaning back against its hood.
He wore a blue-violet casual suit jacket without a tie, revealing a tattooed chest beneath, his hair groomed immaculately, while his bottom half consisted of just knee-length black shorts.
Is this El Capitan?
David had only heard his name, never met the man.
If he hadn’t been forced here, he would never have connected this middle-aged man before him with the famous El Capitan.
The “Hoon” slowly came to a stop, keeping a polite distance from the Rattler.
David pushed the door open and stepped out.
El Capitan took the cigarette out of his mouth, his eyes landing on the vehicle behind him: “Rare to see an unfamiliar face rolling up to me in a ride like this.
What’s up?
Something on your mind?”
“Selling a car.”
Jake didn’t waste words, controlling David to speak directly.
El Capitan raised an eyebrow without speaking, simply taking a slow walk around the “Hoon”.
His steps were measured, his eyes sharp and discerning.
Like an antique dealer scrutinizing an artifact of unknown origin.
“Quadra 640 TS?”
“Not bad, kid.
This ride’s modified like crazy.” His gaze swept across the chassis: “Widened fender flares all around, roll cage welded tight, comfort features completely gutted…
clear as day it was built for some purebred track lunatic.”
“Though I gotta admit…”
El Capitan’s eyes filled with admiration: “Top-tier custom job.”
Jake raised an eyebrow, staying silent.
El Capitan then walked over to the car window, rapping his knuckles against it.
“CrystalDome.”
He nodded, then looked at the two towering military machine guns: “MK.31s.
Where’d you score big heavy metal like this?”
Seeing David remain quiet…
El Capitan pointed at the dense cluster of bullet dents across the frame: “Bullet marks are fresh.
Looks like you ran into a little trouble just now.”
“Cut the noise.
How much?”
Jake controlled David to lean against the car door, his tone flat.
El Capitan chuckled.
He leaned back against his Rattler, popping the cigarette back into his mouth and slowly blowing out a puff of smoke.
“A stock Quadra goes for fifty-eight grand market price.
This one’s got CrystalDome, military MK.31s, plus that professional rally setup…”
He held up his fingers: “I can offer seventy thousand.”
Seventy thousand?
David couldn’t help feeling a surge of envy.
His mom worked herself to the bone at the ER center for just a few thousand eddies a month.
Seventy thousand eddies was enough for the two of them to live comfortably in Night City for years!
“That’s not enough.”
David heard himself speak in a cold, indifferent tone.
Damned demon, so greedy…
He felt anxious inside, terrified that El Capitan might walk back on the deal.
That’s already a massive sum!
“So how much do you think it’s worth?” El Capitan countered.
“Military machine guns and CrystalDome—those two alone are worth way more than twenty grand.” Jake tapped the car window with his finger, then pointed at the two machine guns on top.
“Plus those rally modifications—that’s not something any random garage can pull off.”
“The way I see it, at least a hundred thousand eddies.”
A hundred thousand?!
David’s brain went completely numb.
Is he out of his mind with that extortionate demand?!
He had never seen so much money in his entire life!
What surprised him even more was that El Capitan didn’t reject it right away.
“Looks like you really know this ride inside out.” Flicking his cigarette butt over the cliff edge, he looked at David with a subtle smile: “Not some dumb street thief who just happened to jack a car.”
“Of course.”
Jake looked at the “Hoon”: “This is a comrade who fought shoulder to shoulder with me.
That means adding money.”
“A hundred thousand it is.
Done deal!”
El Capitan said briskly.
“I like doing business with smart people.
Come over, place your hand right here.”
He opened the passenger door of his Rattler, pulling out a biometric scanner and transfer interface from the side of the seat.
David placed his hand on it.
The scanner’s red light swept across his fingerprints, subdermal chip, and retinas.
[Verifying Identity: David Martinez]
[Authorizing Transfer…]
[From: Muamar Reyes]
[Amount: €$100,000]
Ding!
A crisp, pleasant system notification chimed in David’s mind.
At the same time…
At the edge of his field of vision, a translucent blue UI box popped up, cleanly displaying:
[Account Balance Updated: €$114,922.2]
“Upgraded your account.”
El Capitan retrieved the scanner and casually shut the passenger door: “You’re an AutoFixer VIP now.
Buying or selling rides down the line gets you discounted fees and priority info.”
He leaned back against the Rattler’s hood, looking at David: “Checking your account profile info…
Santo Domingo local?”
“Yeah.”
David nodded, standing beside the Rattler.
El Capitan gave a slight smirk, pulling another cigarette from his suit inner pocket and dangling it from his lips: “For Santo Domingo’s sake, I’ll give you a word of advice—lately, keep your head down and stay off the streets as much as possible.”
Triggered another plot point?
Jake’s eyes sharpened as he asked with curiosity, “What happened recently?”