Chapter 95 19.1 Dialogue Options?

While I might not be the best at holding up a casual conversation, I'd like to think that I was pretty decent at holding one if it actually related to a topic that I actually cared about. Granted, those topics were kind of few and far in between with how niche some of my interests were, I could always just steer the conversation around to my favor using blunt shamelessness and a combination of confidence and brute force. As much as the world wanted anyone to believe otherwise, most people are introverts in one way shape or form.

Hell, I was one too. I just had the unenviable experience of losing my ability to care about what I said to people.

So here I was, asking random people around the port for any reputable mechanic that could fix a [Rig] of our size. I didn't say that it was Imperial business, of course. That was just common sense.

"There's not a lot of [Rig] mechanics left here, boy," an old woman that I was talking to explained. "Ever since the war, the Empire deemed it necessary to draft most mechanics to maintain the Imperial fleet. Understandable, of course, but it also meant that [Port Khong] has seen better days."

"I see," I nodded in courtesy. "But that also means there are still some here left, right?"

The old woman scoffed, "They're the ones that failed the draft. They're far too green to service a [Rig] the size of what you're describing. At best, they can fix a small fishing boat. But a [Rig]? Far from it."

I raised an eyebrow at this old woman's words. Well, it was an understandable assessment, but if they're the only ones left, then maybe one of them was this healer mechanic that we're supposed to recruit according to Guidance's script.

"Any idea on where to find them?" I went ahead and asked.

The old woman gave me a curious stink eye as she replied, "Are you sure about that? I can tell that your [Rig] is owned by someone rather powerful. Recruiting a failure of a mechanic is liable to get you killed, boy."

I almost let out a scoff. Seeing as I pretty much had an equal say as the one in charge, I highly doubt that recruiting a poor mechanic would get us killed.

Well, maybe. It might sink us, but Guidance was there to fix that if there would ever be some kind of dire problem.

"If there's no other choice, then I might as well bank on potential," I respectfully answered. "Failures don't stay failures, after all."

"Fair enough," the old woman hummed in her rocking chair. "If you're that determined, you might find one of them by the scrapyard. It's just by the main port. You won't miss it."

"Got it," I nodded. "Thanks for the information."

"You're welcome, boy," the old woman chuckled. "Polite young men such as yourself are hard to come by these days."

I returned the chuckle as I turned around and made my way back to port. The old woman sweetly smiling at me aside, that conversation went smoother than I expected. She wasn't the first person I asked, but she was the first that actually held a long conversation with me. I guess that was my [Kattleynan Ally] quirk kicking in. Huh, never thought that would come in handy when I had no choice but to have it with me.

"Now where is this scrapyard..."

Walking back to the red sea of errors, I kept my eyes peeled for this scrapyard that I shouldn't have missed when we first got here. Seeing as I didn't even know it existed, it was probably in some place that I didn't even bother looking at.

Looking out to the port, I spotted our [Rig] in the furthest dock by the side. Seeing how massive it was, at least I wouldn't get lost once I went exploring.

Letting my feet carry me in the opposite direction of the [Rig], I supposed that it was a good decision that I did this alone. I could only imagine what they were doing right now, but at least I won't have to worry too much about it right now. Instead, I could let myself breathe as my surroundings slowly transformed into something more destitute and metallic-like. In hindsight, I could see why the old woman told me that I wouldn't miss this scrapyard while I made my way back to port.

Then again, this wasn't exactly near our [Rig], or even the Portmaster's Office, for that matter.

"This is the place, I suppose..."

Staring up at the metal monstrosity that seemed to function as a gate, I walked into what was ostensibly a squatter's area. Shanties and cobbled-together houses littered the streets, some even built over the red waters as they floated lazily by the sea.

Quite frankly, it reminded me of my time in some of the poorer areas back in the old world.

As I kind of expected in a place like this, what few residents that lived here gave me a cautious look as I walked deeper and deeper into the scrapyard. I could feel their eyes land on the pistols on my back, assuredly already thinking about whether or not I was there to cause trouble. I wasn't, of course, but that could change if they suddenly designated me as someone that they could steal from.

Not that they could even do that in the first place. Having an inventory system was a godsend like that.

"Whaddya want, stranger!?"

I blinked at the youngish tone screaming at me. Looking to the side, I raised an eyebrow as a kid with brown overalls and a green beret gave me the most questioning look I could ever get from a kid. I couldn't even tell if they were a boy or a girl with how short they are. Then again, maybe they're just that young that-

"Yeah, I'm talking to ya!"

Oh? Well, that was just rude. "I'm here to look for a mechanic."

For some reason, the kid's eyes lit up. I didn't even manage to react as they suddenly ran up to me with a huge grin on their face.

"A mechanic, ya say?! Well, you're looking at one!"

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