[Obtained: €$12,446] [Obtained: M2067 Defender Shotgun × 1 (Upgraded)] [Obtained: Militech Tactical Dagger (Upgraded)] [Obtained: Ammo Crate] [Obtained: Bounce Back Mk.1 Injector] [Obtained: Fragmentation Grenade × 6] …
Looking at the long list of loot in his inventory, Jake Quinn couldn’t help but curve his lips into a smile.
If he converted this money to cash, it would be nearly one hundred thousand!
He had hit the jackpot!
He sorted through the weapons, keeping only the best firearms, replenishing some ammo and medical supplies, and discarding all the basic, common gear.
Since he didn’t know how to dismantle cyberware, he had no choice but to abandon those parts as well.
“Time to head over and find El Capitan.” Jake opened his map, marked the Santo Domingo Dam Viewpoint, and started the ignition.
*El Capitan?* David Martinez was taken aback.
Muamar Reyes, better known as El Capitan.
No street kid raised in Santo Domingo didn’t know that name.
He was the undisputed top fixer of Santo Domingo, as well as the mastermind behind the AutoFixer website.
*He’s going to sell the car to him?* David couldn’t help but wonder.
*What is this evil spirit trying to accomplish…?* The car pulled away from Watson, following the GPS route toward Santo Domingo.
The performance of the Hazardous Driver far surpassed ordinary vehicles, darting smoothly through Night City’s intricate, tangled streets like a fish through water.
They soon entered Santo Domingo.
The Hazardous Driver looked completely out of place in these surroundings, sticking out like a sore thumb and drawing countless envious, greedy, and curious glances.
Along the way, they passed several 6th Street outposts.
The goons there lacked their usual fierce, ruthless postures; instead, they looked deeply troubled, as if hit by a massive crisis.
After all, nearly thirty of their crew had just been wiped out…
Having escaped 6th Street’s pursuit, David felt a wave of relief.
Now, looking at this dominant local gang of Santo Domingo, he no longer felt the urge to duck and run as he used to.
The vehicle climbed a steep uphill road, driving straight toward the dam viewpoint that jutted out over the cliff.
,The viewpoint was wide and deserted.
Tenacious weeds pushed up through cracks in the concrete, and the guardrails were heavily rusted.
In the distance, the desolate expanse of Coronado Farms glowed bright gold under the evening glow.
There was only one other vehicle parked there: a Thorton Galena “Rattler.” It was a meticulously maintained vintage sedan.
A man was leaning casually against its hood.
He wore a blue-purple casual suit jacket with no tie, revealing a tattooed chest beneath.
His hair was styled flawlessly, though his lower half featured only a pair of knee-length black shorts.
*Is that El Capitan?* David had heard the name countless times, but had never seen his face.
If he hadn’t been forced to come here, he never would have linked the middle-aged man before him with the legendary fixer.
The Hazardous Driver came to a smooth stop, keeping a polite distance from the Rattler.
David opened the door and stepped out.
El Capitan took the cigarette from his mouth, his eyes falling on the modified vehicle behind David.
“Don’t see fresh faces driving up to me in rides like that every day.
What’s the deal, kid?
Got business?” “Selling the car.” Jake didn’t waste words, controlling David to speak directly.
El Capitan raised an eyebrow, saying nothing as he took a slow, deliberate lap around the Hazardous Driver.
His steps were unhurried, his eyes razor-sharp—like an antique dealer scrutinizing a piece of unknown origin.
“Quadra 640 TS?” “Damn, kid.
This thing is heavily modded.” His gaze swept over the frame.
“Flared wheel arches all around, roll cage welded tight, every comfort feature gutted…
This is a pure track maniac’s toy.” “Gotta admit, though…” Admiration flashed in El Capitan’s eyes.
“Top-tier custom work.” Jake raised an eyebrow in the game, staying quiet.
El Capitan stepped up to the window and rapped his knuckles against it.
“CrystalDome.” He nodded, then looked up at the two heavy machine guns mounted on the roof.
“MK.31s.
Where’d you score big toys like these?” Seeing David remain silent, El Capitan pointed at the dense cluster of bullet holes riddling the body.
“Fresh impact marks.
Looks like you just ran into some serious heat.” “Cut the fluff.
How much?” Jake made David lean against the driver’s door, speaking in a flat tone.
El Capitan chuckled.
He leaned back against his Rattler, popped the cigarette back into the corner of his mouth, and blew out a lazy plume of smoke.
“A bone-stock Quadra goes for fifty-eight grand on the market.
This one’s got a CrystalDome, Militech heavy machine guns, plus a full rally spec conversion…” He held up a hand.
“I can give you seventy thousand.” Seventy thousand?
David couldn’t help but feel a surge of envy.
His mother worked her fingers to the bone at the ER every month just to bring home a few thousand eddies.
Seventy thousand eddies was enough for the two of them to live comfortably in Night City for years!
“That’s not going to cover it, is it?” David heard himself reply in a cold, detached voice.
*Damn devil…
so greedy…* David felt a pang of worry, terrified El Capitan might back out.
That was already a massive pile of cash!
“How much do you think it’s worth, then?” El Capitan asked back.
“The machine guns and the CrystalDome alone are worth way more than twenty grand,” Jake said, tapping the reinforced window and pointing up at the twin roof-mounted guns.
“And those rally mods aren’t something you get done at just any neighborhood chop shop.” “If you ask me, it’s worth at least a hundred thousand Eddies.” *One hundred thousand?!* David’s head buzzed.
*A hundred grand?!
Is he insane?!* He had never seen that much money in his entire life!
What surprised him even more was that El Capitan didn’t instantly reject the price.
“Sounds like you really know this ride.” He flicked his cigarette butt off the edge of the cliff, looking at David with a faint smile.
“You’re not just some dumb street thief who got lucky.” “Obviously.” Jake looked at the Hazardous Driver.
“This ride fought by my side.
You gotta pay extra.” “One hundred thousand it is.
Deal!” El Capitan agreed cleanly without hesitation.
“I like doing business with smart people.
Come here, put your hand right here.” He opened the passenger door of his Rattler and pulled up a bioscanner and transfer interface on the side of the seat.
David pressed his hand against the scanner.
A red light swept over his fingerprints, subdermal grip data, and retina.
[Verifying Identity: David Martinez] [Transfer Authorizing…] [From: Muamar Reyes] [Amount: €$100,000] [Ding!] A crisp, pleasant system chime rang in David’s mind.
At the same time, at the edge of his vision, a semi-transparent blue UI window popped up, displaying a clean update: [Account Balance Updated: €$114,922.2] “Upgraded your account level,” El Capitan said as he pulled back the scanner and casually shut the passenger door.
“You’re an AutoFixer VIP now.
Lower transaction fees, priority info whenever you buy or sell.” He leaned back on the hood of his Rattler and glanced at David.
“According to your account file…
you’re a Santo Domingo local?” “Yeah.” David nodded as he stood beside the Rattler.
El Capitan smiled, pulled another cigarette from his inner jacket pocket, and stuck it between his lips.
“For the sake of Santo Domingo, I’ll give you a word of advice: lie low for a while.
Don’t go wandering around outside.” *Triggered a narrative event?* Jake’s eyes sharpened.
Intrigued, he made David ask, “Did something happen recently?”