[During the days of traveling through Evil Land, the battle-seasoned vehicle had a small issue that needed fixing.]
[Spending a certain amount of Technology Points could enact a repair action.]
[Note: The host itself must possess adequate repair skills.]
[Currently does not possess.]
That night, the vehicle from the Cyberpunk 2077 world broke down, and Lille studied car repair knowledge all through the night.
Fortunately, engineering knowledge was somewhat easier to grasp than scientific research knowledge. He consulted materials from both worlds, along with V's formidable hands-on capability—like directly grabbing live wires with her hands.
The Subdermal Armor somewhat resisted electricity, and when the current flowed through the body, it could still diagnose the electricity with prosthetics...
A human-shaped voltage tester it was.
Eventually, the two of them fixed the vehicle—though they still didn't understand what was wrong with it.
The vehicle technology in the Cyberpunk 2077 world had some differences from the modern one, starting with the fact that the fuel used wasn't gasoline, and for high-end goods like the Bimong Armored Vehicle, it contained many circuits for personal connection access.
The real world didn't have such complex vehicle circuits.
After they dismantled one of the two armored cargo containers in the back, the vehicle was able to move again—Lille thought perhaps the junk vehicle had taken few hits, causing the load to crush the power circuits.
Hitting the road just made the interior of the vehicle a bit cramped.
[Cyberpunk Armored Vehicle Repair Technology (Beginner Level) Acquired]
[Technology Points +50]
[Technology Points deducted for setting up the repair command]
[Technology Points -5]
[Current Technology Points: 535]
[V: This vehicle is the best-selling armored vehicle with military technology? Trash, it's good that in a day and a half we're heading into Evil Land; we'll need to find a replacement vehicle then.]
[You: I'm going to sleep.]
[V: Better hope you sleep forever.]
After sorting out the situation there and returning to the main world, things were still troublesome.
Skye was an orphan with nowhere to live, and it just so happened, as her employer, Lille's apartment could accommodate one more person.
The apartment had two bedrooms and one living room connected to a small kitchen, but it at least had a couch that could be laid flat to sleep on.
The problem was Skye was a girl, physiologically similar in age to Lille—
What would Maya, his mother, think?
Difficult, indeed difficult.
It wasn't that he was prejudiced against Skye being a dropout orphan.
On one hand, she felt Lille's life wouldn't last long and just hoped he could live out a happy remainder of his life.
On the other hand... Skye had a hard fate too, being an orphan, a wanderer.
What kind of person was Lille? He saw right through his mother's thoughts and, holding his forehead, said, "Mom, it's like this, I plan to start a side business in my spare time to contribute to the... community.
Skye knows some computer skills, so I'm letting her help."
Truthfully, being someone with a mental age of several decades, he was not that sensitive in this regard—
To him, Skye truly still seemed like a little girl, maybe in another five or six years it'd be a different story.
Skye knew nothing, only feeling that this charming and gentle lady cooked delicious meals.
Take that, fast food!
So she ate heartily, undistracted.
Once this topic came up, the conversation instantly shifted—no issues of male and female relationships could compare to the worries about life.
Maya expressed her concern, "Lille, you've grown up, and I understand you wanting to do something for the family and community, but what happened today was too dangerous!"
"But even if I don't do it, they would still rob—Mom, unless we are driven out, they won't stop."
Lille spread his hands; the rationale was quite simple.
Indeed, there are many simple truths in this world, such as when oppressed, one should resist.
Being bullied—why not stand up for yourself?
After standing up, your money gets taken—why can't you protect your money?
Protecting your money, getting beaten by robbers—why not give them the money to protect yourself?
Round and round it goes; if you keep giving up your belongings step by step, in the end, it seems like you have nothing left but your bare life.
Maya knew it too.
Lille continued, "Mom, I know you're worried about me, but I'm already 18."
In Latovia, if an 18-year-old man didn't want to be a serf under a feudal lord, he was a rebel.
So Maya truly understood Lille.
At that moment, while eating, Skye suddenly said, "Boss, you're of age now? If not, should we throw a party?"
Lille glanced at this glutton: "Turned 18 three days ago, right after I got out of the hospital."
"Uh... okay." Skye continued eating, not pondering what getting out of the hospital implied.
Maya said, "Alright... I just hope, you take care of yourself, understand?"
"Got it—let's rest now, Mom; you also take care of yourself, and oh, remember to take your phone when you go out."
Lille had modified Maya's phone so that it could be remotely turned on even when off, avoiding disconnection.
Although in the current situation, Lille didn't think someone would resort to kidnapping or similar coercion, it was still better to be cautious.
At this moment, a message from Matt appeared on Lille's prosthetic eye:
"The car is downstairs, let's go to the NYPD together."
...
The current state of Hell's Kitchen and the inaction of the precinct chief are closely related.
The precinct chief is actually appointed by the mayor, and although the mayor can directly appoint the chief, he must consider whether the city council will raise objections.
In the city council, the council member of Hell's Kitchen is sponsored by Kingpin.
Through monetary support, private intimidation, and other black-and-white tactics involving the political sphere, it is a clever move among the gangs.
With the current level of corruption, Kingpin is not yet in control of the precinct chief, but it's no problem for the city council to appoint some ineffectual trash.
Sitting in front of Lille now was the precinct chief, Milton Robinson.
"Tell me, why did you start fighting?"
Milton placed his hat on the table and sat down with his large belly, making a creaking sound.
Matt slammed the hard drive onto the table.
"This was a case of burglary, the suspect was possibly armed illegally, we were merely defending ourselves, not engaging in a so-called brawl."
Milton was taken aback—trouble, he would have to work overtime and it was related to the gangs.
Lille could tell from his expression that expecting him to submit evidence to the prosecutors was somewhat unlikely.
After all, New York wasn't Gotham—at this time in New York, perhaps a couple of low-ranking police officers were linked with Kingpin.
But not the chief; he just found it troublesome.
And he was timid—his family didn't live in Hell's Kitchen, he was just afraid there really were gangs.
"Alright, I'll review it, what a hassle..."
Lille furrowed his brow—this was the worst-case scenario, the police shirking their duties, and he wasn't even willing to have a subordinate hand over the evidence to the prosecutors.
Without anyone curbing Kingpin's secret expansion, his power would grow day by day, bringing more corruption.
This type of corruption is like a virus, with people neglecting their duties, eventually, it will penetrate the marrow of the system—this is why dereliction of duty is a criminal offense.
Just then, Lille saw a middle-aged man with gray at his temples hurrying across the street—it was amazing that there were still police officers volunteering to work overtime at midnight.
The Qilusi Eye easily captured the officer's badge—
George Stacy.
Chief of the New York City Police Department!
In any universe, George Stacy was a rigidly upright chief!
"Chief Stacy!" Lille immediately raised his hand and called out to the chief.
George hesitated for a moment, looking at Lille and Milton, the latter of whom immediately stood up, albeit unsteadily.
"Chief Stacy, I am dealing with a brawl that occurred in Hell's Kitchen..."
"It was burglary! And the perpetrator also had an illegal firearm and almost committed murder!"
Lille's frail body burst out with a forceful voice, trying to sound more agitated.
"Chief Robinson, in the apartment building, there are eight households, more than twenty people, including women and children!
The perpetrator blatantly broke in during broad daylight when the men weren't home and even fired a gun in threat!
Such things happen every day in Hell's Kitchen! The evidence is right here! It's not just some gang brawl!"
On the contrary, recently, the gangs in Hell's Kitchen have been very harmonious, tightly united under the contracts Kingpin secured to make big money.
George listened and frowned—
Truth be told, handling security in Hell's Kitchen had always been a challenging task.
Yet often there was a lack of evidence, and most brawls during fights were proved to be gang skirmishes—how could that be managed?
But if civilians were being threatened, then he needed to take a look—
Summarizing, George Stacy was a man of strong professional ethics, a justice-serving elite of society.
This means his sense of justice is also the uniquely elite type of justice.
If Robinson reported to him that both brawls and security incidents were gang-related, he would believe Robinson and treat such cases with impartiality.
In any case, it doesn't matter how many of such social scum die, the more the better.
Yes, he disliked Robinson's laziness, but he still recognized Robinson as a colleague and tried his best to trust him.
On the contrary, if someone on the street grabbed his leg and cried to him that Hell's Kitchen was literally Hell, their legs broken by criminals just yesterday...
He might suspect that the person had their legs broken participating in a brawl, damn gang members.
Trusting the system over public opinion, that was Chief Stacy.
However, evidence also forms a part of the system.
George picked up the hard drive, mildly interested, and said, "You know me?"
"I've seen you on TV, er... maybe other places too?"
George looked deeply at Lille: "I heard that the public security cameras in Hell's Kitchen are all broken..."
Lille immediately responded, "This certainly wasn't captured by a public camera, it's from a private camera—after all, we don't have the skill to pull footage from public cameras.
But... I believe public cameras might have captured some footage too."
It was rare indeed—although George thought this, he knew what he needed to do.
If things were as this young man described, Chief Robinson might be guilty of dereliction of duty.
"Chief Robinson, I am very interested in this case—you two, I need witnesses, you wouldn't mind being witnesses, would you?"
Matt was quite surprised, and Lille patted his shoulder, saying:
"Of course, we wouldn't mind."