The car's paint job had changed, but the interior had not. It was still the same vehicle. The plan was to return to Night City first, get some firefighter uniforms, blend into the ruins after the explosion, and then find a way underground.
As for where to get firefighter uniforms, that was Rogue's problem. In Night City, as long as you had money, you could buy human organs at will. What clothes couldn't you buy?
It was simply a matter of keeping things cleaner and maintaining secrecy.
After getting into the car, Rogue wanted to talk to Deathstroke about the food business, but Su Ming knew nothing about that. He had always been a hands-off boss. Gin handled all business matters, and Su Ming did not even know how much a kilogram of potatoes cost in his own supermarket.
There was nothing to discuss, so he could only tell Rogue to lie low after tonight. If they decided to pursue this business later, someone would come to discuss the details of cooperation with her.
Ciri, eating squid beside them, was somewhat speechless. She had no idea why Deathstroke's famous "free trade" had made its way into this world again. Wherever he went, swords and guns seemed to clear the path, followed immediately by merchants moving in, as if it were some kind of routine.
But this world did not seem to have any high-value resources, did it? Oil? In 40K, that was an outdated energy source. Mineral fuels were worthless now, while the civilian spaceships sold by the Wilson Group were all equipped with Anti-Matter Engines.
Had he set his sights on the labor force here? Or perhaps the local specialty—Cyberpsychosis?
After thinking about it for a long time, Ciri still could not guess. She simply gave up and continued