Interdimensional Scientist, Starting from Cyberpunk

These engines, of course, needed to be handed over to Adrian in the Marvel world for research.

The Vulture's turbine device worked well as a wearable unit, but it was far too conspicuous.

With the cover provided by Thorton Corporation, developing hover cars would be just as feasible.

Restarting the Mackinaw, they drove down the road. V, looking bored, rested her arm on the passenger-side window, appearing somewhat regretful about not going out for a drink.

Leo glanced at her. "Regretting not going for a drink?"

"A little. The streets feel too quiet, and there aren't even any trigger-happy idiots from the 6th Street Gang around."

"They're probably busy cleaning up the mess from the artillery fire. Likely just lying low in their hideouts."

V yawned, watching the peaceful streets of Santo Domingo.

This area barely qualified as an urban zone. At this hour, no normal person would be wandering around.

"What are we doing next?"

"What? You out of goals already?"

"A little." V leaned back in her seat, propping her legs up on the dashboard. "I always wanted to buy a badass car, but now I feel like I already have one."

"Technically, this is a company vehicle for missions. You can still buy your own badass car."

V thought about it, then shook her head. "Feels like... I don't want to drive anything else."

"Not even considering a hover car?"

"Those things... feel kinda out of reach." V paused, then added with curiosity, "Yeah, why do I want a car but don't feel anything for hover cars?"

Leo shrugged. "Last time, you were talking about turning the Mackinaw into a hover car."

"I was just saying it. Hover cars are cool, but if I think further, stuff like private jets and rockets never really crossed my mind.

What's up with that? Isn't human nature supposed to be increasingly greedy?"

"How would I know? Just tell me—do you want one or not?"

"I do."

Leo smirked. "For a second, I thought you were getting all philosophical. If you're so enlightened, how about clearing my debt?"

"No way!" V waved her small hand dismissively. "You still owe me 1.69 million! Don't even think about retiring before you pay it back!"

"Just 1.69 million? You don't think I can afford that?"

"Well, I'm gonna start charging interest."

"I was joking."

Leo's gaze shifted toward a nomad encampment at the end of the street—the former Red Shirt Psychiatric Hospital.

One thing was undeniable: with enough funding, nomads worked fast and efficiently.

The perimeter walls had been reinforced and electrified, the entrance replaced with an explosion-proof gate, and sandbags and concrete blocks had been stacked outside to form two guard posts.

Each post had an automated turret next to it. The entire camp was covered by 360-degree surveillance cameras, with a drone patrolling overhead.

To any outsider, it could easily be mistaken for a corporate safehouse.

As they approached, the nomads on guard recognized Leo's vehicle from a distance and opened the gate for them.

Inside the gates was a well-organized parking lot packed with the nomads' beaten-up vehicles, alongside crates of cargo ready for shipment.

Seeing the Mackinaw, the nomads excitedly waved at Leo.

"This place is actually looking legit now." V put her feet down and suddenly thought of something. "Wait, we're supposed to get a cut of their earnings, right?

You never mentioned that. You're not secretly hoarding the money, are you?"

"Do I look like that kind of person?" Leo said irritably. "We're in the startup phase. Spending money on luxuries would be stupid."

"Looks suspicious to me." V eyed him skeptically. "I'm not rushing you to pay me back, but don't go down the wrong path."

Leo rolled his eyes at her and got out of the car.

As soon as he stepped out, he saw Panam waiting at the entrance, a bright smile on her face—clearly thrilled with their recent success.

The first batch of production was done, the buyers were lined up, and the profits looked promising. This business had serious potential.

"Hey! V, Leo, you're just in time! Saul found a buyer!"

The three of them walked briskly into the office, where Panam casually tossed them two cans of soda before cracking one open for herself and flopping onto the couch.

"The buyer is a gang from Mexico City. Our synthetic blood is much cheaper than the usual stuff on the market, and the quality is excellent. They've tested it and are practically begging us to ship it over."

"That far?" V raised an eyebrow. "Why not sell it in the city?"

"We will," Leo explained, "but Mexico City is a crucial trade hub. If things ever go south in Night City, we'll need a backup plan."

This was a long-term strategy.

Every location had an entrenched power structure that was tough to break into. Even locals struggled to rise, let alone nomads, who were naturally seen as outsiders.

The stronger the hierarchy, the more it rejected newcomers.

The only way to counter that was to leverage the nomads' greatest strength—mobility.

By establishing a vast transportation network, they could compensate for the restrictions imposed on them in major cities.

Blood products were always in demand. Cybernetic clinics consumed vast amounts for surgeries, trauma care, and transfusions.

In 2076, blood contamination was a serious issue.

People's blood could be tainted with cyberware lubricants, electrolyte imbalances, illegal drugs, chemical immunosuppressants, and pollutants from years of breathing toxic air.

Especially in a place like Night City, most people had dirty blood—some even mildly radioactive.

For them, the only solution was an advanced dialysis treatment known as blood replacement therapy—removing contaminated blood and infusing fresh, clean blood.

On the black market, Scavs harvested blood from their victims, purified it, and resold it—an expensive and brutal process.

But compared to legally sourced blood, the lack of patent fees still made it a profitable business.

Leo's blood production method was even more cost-efficient. By undercutting prices, he could dominate the market.

Unless the biotech corporations decided to ramp up production and slash prices to suppress this new competition—but even then, their impact would be minimal.

Because Leo's blood was simply too good.

Unless the corps started adding extra chemicals to their products, they couldn't compete.

And that was unlikely—at least in the short term.

In other words, as long as they controlled the technology, medical supplies like this would always sell.

Leo ran through all this in his mind, planning to summarize it for V, but she had already zoned out.

"..." Leo turned back to Panam. "Alright, let's do it. Also, your vehicles are in terrible shape—not to insult you or anything.

I struck a deal with Mackinaw Company. You can trade in your old cars at cost price for new ones."

"But only Mackinaw models," he added. "No exceptions."

"Mackinaw's great!" Panam's eyes lit up. "What model?"

"A custom variant—based on the Laramore model. Upgraded engine, reinforced armor, and advanced weapon mounts—just slot in a turret, and it's good to go.

Buy your turrets from Rama Armory and weapons from Chesson."

The business was booming, but they also needed to arm up. As Leo laid out his supplier connections, Panam's admiration gradually turned to awe.

Nomads had always struggled.

Since Santiago's disappearance, Aldecaldos had wandered aimlessly, lacking direction.

But now, everything Leo did was methodical and well-planned.

They had never enjoyed such a structured system before.

As their discussion grew more intense, V's vacant expression turned suspicious—she wanted to jump in.

But she didn't know jack about vehicle mods, logistics, or supply chains.

Luckily, the conversation soon shifted.

Leo took a sip of his drink. "Anyway, any trouble lately?"

"There is one thing," Panam leaned back. "Not really trouble, but Cassidy keeps telling me to warn you.

You've heard about the 'Homeless Cleanup Plan' in the news, right? He's worried it might affect us."

Leo stroked his chin. Homeless and nomads were different, but in Night City, they were politically treated the same.

Most people in Night City couldn't tell them apart anyway.

And the person pushing this plan?

None other than Mayor Lucius Rhyne.

Leo thought for a moment. "Cassidy has a point. I'll look into it—might as well pull in some new allies while I'm at it."

After all, he had a few politicians waiting to meet him.

As their operations expanded, it was time to start playing the political game.