"The pipeline is fixed; it shouldn’t leak anymore."
Li De stepped out of the bathroom drenched, his shirt soaked through from the splashing water. Thɪs chapter is updated by novèlfire.net
The bulging muscles that could punch a cow to death looked quite out of place with his current job as a pipe repairman.
The shop owner beside him smiled appreciatively upon hearing the water supply was restored, thanking him repeatedly.
Initially, he just placed an order at that bar with a try-it-out attitude, never expecting someone would actually take the job.
After all, when a regular repair company sends someone, it usually costs at least a hundred euros. Thirty euros wouldn’t even get you nothing, and self-employed workers would get beaten by companies.
Previously, people were reluctant to spend the money and would buy parts to fix pipes or walls themselves, but that was for homes they were settled in, so a little extra effort wasn’t a big deal.
Nowadays, most people in the United States have no fixed residence, so they don’t have the mindset for such things, usually asking the local gang charging protection fees for help or paying for a repair company.
The fact that someone came that same day and repaired it was surprising.
The sincerely grateful shop owner took a can of beer from the fridge, opened it, and handed it to Li De, smiling.
"I thought you guys were mercenaries or something, I was shocked when you came."
Even with a baseball cap and a toolbox, Li De’s strong physique was hard to conceal.
"Not all mercenaries, some people would rather chat or do their own things."
Even among the players, some don’t like to fight. For instance, there’s a guy stationed at the bar who’s making quite some money from other players’ tips daily.
Li De took the beer; he’s been following everyone in that bar hoping to gather some useful information.
He even knew about the incident a few days ago when they collectively went to Taiping Continent to go after the Voodoo Gang.
However, he found out these people seemed to have their private communication channels, and he was worried about exposing himself, so he didn’t go.
The gang warfare wasn’t his concern, nor did he wish to get involved; he just wanted to keep a low profile.
Thus, he frequently engaged in these seemingly trivial gigs.
Years of experience as a special agent have taught him many skills, allowing him to disguise himself as a repairman, electrician, detective, driver... No problem at all.
"This place surely is better. When I had a shop in Kabuki District, those Tiger Claw gang members would come every day to collect protection fees, and if you didn’t pay up, they’d smash the place, cut water and power; even the NCPD wouldn’t intervene."
Seeing Li De willing to chat, the shop owner got a bit more lively.
He had never seen this kind of place where, after fighting hard to drive those punks out, they didn’t collect protection fees, sell drugs, run casinos, ban prostitutes, nor did they freeload at the shops; instead, they managed the surrounding vendors’ safety and sanitation.
But the business indeed was thriving; those mercenaries spent money like water.
"Thanks to this group, damn, the street prices have soared; you know? The rent goes up month by month."
Despite that, the owner’s tone carried only complaints about missing the opportunity.
"But without those gangs being an eyesore, doing business is quite comfortable."
Then Li De suddenly said unexpectedly,
"With a lack of strong government control, gangs are bound to exist. If the New America won the unification wars back then, maybe Night City’s gang issues wouldn’t be so bad."
The shop owner burst out laughing like he heard a joke.
"Come on, buddy, everybody knows Miles is all talk; politicians are nothing but a bunch of lying cheats. You don’t really think they care about small fries like us, do you?"
"Anyone sitting in that position is just a liar spewing falsehoods. Isn’t the Sixth Street Gang just something they raised?"
Li De wanted to argue but thought better of it.
No point going back and forth.
The closed shop fell into an eerie silence.
Just as the shop owner was about to pull out cash for this New America fan to take and leave, a crackling sound suddenly erupted from a corner.
"Good afternoon, listeners, this is Doni Vormirian, currently the only host of Prelive Radio Station..."
Li De glanced at the shop owner.
This channel is currently the top target of Huang Ban’s wanted list, agents are scouring the city for the signal origin, and anyone daring to listen to the radio content is seen as challenging Huang Ban’s authority, shot on sight.
And this station hadn’t broadcast for the last three days; many thought the host was killed by Huang Ban, yet unexpectedly, they were safe.
The shopkeeper turned pale instantly. Geez, why is the radio suddenly sounding now?
He nervously glanced at Li De, who just coughed and said,
"No worries, I’m listening too."
"Phew... Then that’s fine."
The shopkeeper finally breathed a sigh of relief, then very tactfully took out the radio and placed it on the table. Both grabbed a beer each, even grilled a few skewers, and started to listen to today’s broadcast.
Brother Dao: "Oh, I’m sorry, audience friends, I had to halt for a few days due to traveling for material gathering."
"Guess where I went?"
"Hell! For a full three days."
"That’s right, I went to a place only dead people go. Oh my, you definitely can’t imagine what torment I faced or the terrifying monsters I saw. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that scene in my life."
Brother Dao paused midway; he wanted to cover his mouth and vomit again. When he returned, he scrubbed his skin raw but held back and continued broadcasting.