Junk Town of the Wasteland - 3

Max’s party’s pickup truck was surrounded by modified motorcycles.

A truly brutal scene.

Even so, Max leisurely rolled down the Driver’s side window.

Vrrrm──.

As Max rolled down the window and showed his face, the guy who had been showing off a heavy gun and demanding they stop lifted his Holographic Goggles and likewise revealed his bare face.

He had a prosthetic eye blinking with red light and no nose, as if he had been bitten by a beast. It was a menacing face densely packed with scars.

“Oh my, as I look at the license plate, it’s a vehicle I haven’t seen before. What brings you to this rugged Wasteland?”

The bastards didn’t just attack right away, because being a robber and an Outlaw was a profession where Discretion was essential to keeping one’s lifeline intact.

Even when avoiding MegaCorps and raiding small and medium-sized enterprises, they also avoided indiscriminate murder.

In most cases, they treated Small and Medium-sized Enterprises and civilian vehicles as long-term, periodic 'customers,' extorting only a manageable toll before letting them go. It was a bizarre sort of business ethics unique to the Wasteland...