"Brother, this is as far as I can take you." Yellow Dog braked his little motorcycle and turned to address Chen Xuan on the back seat.
The sun had already set, tinting the ceaseless sandstorm overhead purplish red. In another half hour at most, darkness would fall completely. Even experienced searchers would not venture out after nightfall.
"No problem. We're close to the city center now. You've saved us a lot of trouble." Chen Xuan swung off the motorcycle.
He had never expected that, even in the twenty-second century, the most convenient way to get around Jiangcheng would still be a gasoline-powered motorcycle—and not some sleek, high-powered model, but a miniature thing that looked like a child's toy. Two people in protective suits almost completely hid the motorcycle beneath them. He had even wondered whether the pair of slender suspension springs on its rear wheel could support their weight.
Fortunately, it had held out the whole way.
Chen Xuan understood why they used motorcycles like these. Their main advantage was their compact size: no matter how the rider moved, the whole vehicle remained within the protective suit's shielding range.
A sedan or pickup would need its own shielding equipment, and that was generally only available at outposts. Even a star search team like the Frontline Band could not afford such luxuries.
Still, understanding their reasons did not stop him from finding these little motorcycles painfully undignified.
What kind of sight was a bunch of burly men riding "children's toys"?
The companions Chen Xuan had brought also climbed off their motorcycles and gathered around him.
"Listen—are you sure you don't need our support?" Liu Yi, another mechanic riding a motorcycle, looked doubtful. "There are ability users among the enemy too. I haven't seen what any of you can do, but this