Since they were heading to deal with the Maelstrom gang, necessary preparations had to be made—like getting Jackie, who always had his chest exposed, a bulletproof vest.
"I thought your clothes at least had ballistic plates installed so you could just zip up when needed. But now you're telling me that when you're not wearing leather armor, you don't wear any protection at all?"
Even though they were already inside the weapons shop, Oliver still found Jackie's reckless attitude hard to comprehend. Even Victor, who barely knew them, had warned them about protective gear. Someone like Jackie, a seasoned mercenary well aware of armor's importance, still chose to go without.
"You're being ridiculous."
Kai chimed in, criticizing Jackie's disregard for safety. If this were a game, he could understand—it was common for characters to wear as little as possible for aesthetics. But in reality, Jackie still dressed like a game character, which was taking it too far.
Kai wasn't familiar with the game's full story, but he had a feeling Jackie would eventually pay for his carelessness.
A bulletproof vest and armor plates couldn't compare to subdermal implants, which provided better protection against various firearms. However, against standard kinetic weapons, they were sufficient. Take Kai's Lexington pistol, for example—if someone wore a bulletproof vest, even a direct hit wouldn't penetrate deeply. There would still be time to get to a hospital.
"That's why I came with you guys, isn't it?"
Jackie didn't really care, but since his two friends insisted, he went along with it. His original plan was to save up for subdermal armor and skip the bulletproof vest altogether, considering how expensive even a vest was.
Of course, Jackie had been saying this for a long time. Every time he saved up money, he ended up spending it on something else—motorcycle parts, books, whatever. Subdermal armor had been on his list for ages but kept getting pushed back.
"But if I'm getting a vest, KK, don't you think it's time for you to get a better gun?"
Jackie eyed the pistol at Kai's waist. "Lexingtons are only used by low-level NCPD officers because of corruption and budget cuts. That gun can't even pierce the cheapest subdermal armor with a frontal shot."
"A low-tier handgun? Sounds perfect for low-tier mercs like us."
Kai wasn't too concerned. He had scavenged a few decent weapons from dead Maelstrom and 6th Street gang members before. While most were either broken due to poor maintenance or so heavily modified they were useless to anyone else, he had found a few decent ones—like a Constitution Arms Unity pistol. It held twelve rounds, packed a solid punch, and handled well. But Kai was comfortable with his Lexington and didn't feel the need to switch.
If the handgun lacked stopping power, he could always switch to a Copperhead assault rifle. Handguns were meant to be compact and fire quickly at close range, not for brute force.
And if he ever found himself in a situation where he had to rely solely on his pistol, he trusted his aim to hit unprotected spots. He seriously doubted the Maelstrom gangsters they were about to deal with would be walking around in full-body armor.
After buying their gear and stocking up on ammo, the three took Oliver's car toward the Maelstrom hideout provided by their employer.
[TN: How it's a two seater lol]
The location was in the northern part of Watson's industrial district. This area had once been a thriving hub of employment—officially described as "vibrant" and "full of opportunity." But now, it had become a slum for factory workers.
These workers earned meager wages, toiling seventeen-hour shifts in automated factories, performing the few tasks that machines couldn't. They never questioned why machines needed repairs or why maintenance costs were more than their lives were worth. Instead, they felt grateful for their jobs, working themselves to exhaustion out of fear of being fired.
Who could blame them? The factory owners saw them as expendable, yet they still felt thankful to have work—otherwise, their entire families would starve.
If Kai had to comment on it, all he could say was that it was a helpless situation.
What else could he do?
Was he supposed to be happy? Happy that he didn't have to break his back to feed a family? Or relieved? Relieved that he had no family to feed, like some twisted Batman scenario? That would be a hell of a joke.
For now, no one was paying him to kill factory bosses, so he had no reason to bother. But if such a job ever came up, he wouldn't hesitate. Whether the workers would survive afterward wasn't his problem—he was just a mercenary.
Thinking about it, it made sense why so many people joined the Maelstrom gang. No matter how dangerous and insane gang life was, it was probably still better than breaking your back in a factory. Many likely joined after watching their parents struggle and deciding they wouldn't go down the same path.
"If you really think about it, a gang probably has better career advancement than a factory job."
On the way, Kai shared his thoughts with Oliver and Jackie.
"That reminds me of why the 6th Street gang was originally formed," Oliver said. "Back in the day, our founders were ex-military who were sick of being exploited by the megacorps. They formed the gang to fight back. But things have changed—when I was a kid, I never imagined 6th Street would start extorting civilians like the other gangs. Now, it's all about connections and power."
"A gang that fought against corporations but ended up becoming like them. How ironic."
Jackie scoffed, then something clicked. "Wait a minute, Oliver—you were in 6th Street?"
"Technically, I was in it until yesterday. Got kicked out this morning."
Oliver casually recounted how he met Kai.
"The client specifically hired KK because they saw the surveillance footage from that incident."
"No, that's not what I'm stuck on. This is just one big coincidence. I used to be in the Valentinos but left to be a solo merc. Now, two guys from rival gangs are teammates."
"Wait—you were a Valentino?"
Now it was Oliver's turn to be surprised. But after a moment, he realized it made sense—Jackie's family was from that area, and he was well-connected with the Valentinos. In hindsight, it was obvious.
"Then once we finish this job, we should grab some drinks and celebrate getting out of gang life."
"You make it sound like we're about to pull off a kidnapping."
Kai was about to continue when the car's GPS spoke up.
"Destination: 50 meters ahead."
"We're here. Grab your gear."
As the factory grew closer, Kai felt a surge of anticipation for what was about to unfold.