Chapter 216: Chapter 216: Premium Shields and Financial Realities
Intrigued, Alexander tapped the detailed spec sheet and began reading through the highly tactical, heavy-duty modifications, a cold grin slowly forming on his lips. The vehicle didn’t just have reinforced panels; it boasted a certified CEN Level BR7 rating, which meant the opaque armor lining was specifically engineered to stop armor-piercing rounds, including devastating 7.62 mm AP sniper rounds and heavy ballistic strikes.
He scrolled down further, checking the transparency protections. The windows were made of multi-layered, poly-carbonate bullet-resistant glass with a staggering thickness of 55mm, thick enough to absorb multiple high-velocity impacts in the exact same spot without a single splinter entering the cabin. The body shielding itself was a fortress, utilizing 14mm ballistic steel plates combined with ultra-dense Kevlar and Aramid fibers woven throughout the door panels, roof, and floorboards to easily deflect heavy fragmentation and floor-level grenade blasts. Finally, his eyes caught the wheel specifications, noting the Hutchison heavy-duty beadlock rims equipped with specialized internal run-flat inserts that guaranteed full mobility even if the reinforced rubber was shredded by tactical spikes or heavy gunfire.
"Now this is a real fucking vehicle" muttered Alexander to himself, his finger hovering over the buy button.
A notification popped up in bright red text: Estimated delivery time: 7 business days.
"Damn it," muttered Alexander, letting out an annoyed breath as he stared at the screen. "I need something I can drive off the lot today. I can’t just keep riding around in app taxis for a whole week while half the city is trying to track my movements."
He scrolled down to look at the pricing breakdown anyway, curious to see what the final damage would be, but the moment the total figure refreshed, his jaw tightened. The automated checkout displayed a staggering price tag of twenty-five million dollars for the fully customized, military-grade rig.
"Twenty-five million...?" said Alexander, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips as he rubbed his forehead. "Are you fucking kidding me? I only have three and a half million in liquid cash right now after paying off my immediate expenses. Son of a bitch, I’m broke compared to these high-end military specs."
Realizing he was priced out of the Tier-1 fortress market, he backed out of the heavy combat section and narrowed his search parameters, filtering for vehicles that were available for immediate pickup within his specific budget.
He scrolled through dozens of heavily used sedans and low-tier armored civilian cars until a particular listing caught his eye. It was a late-model Chevrolet Tahoe. The SUV was beautiful, painted in a sleek, glossy metallic silver with matching chrome details along the grill and heavy-duty rims.
Alexander tapped on the spec sheet to see what he was dealing with. While it wasn’t a literal tank like the military Hummer, it still boasted a certified Level 5 ballistic protection package. The silver plating was reinforced with specialized 12mm composite ballistic steel, and the windows were fitted with 45mm multi-layered bulletproof glass. It was definitely a bit lighter and more vulnerable to sustained high-caliber armor-piercing rounds compared to the Hummer’s brutal specs, but it was more than capable of stopping standard assault rifle fire and protecting him from a typical street ambush.
Best of all, the price tag was listed at a flat three million dollars, and a bright green indicator confirmed there was exactly one unit currently sitting in the local distributor’s secure garage, ready for immediate delivery.
"Three million flat," said Alexander, a satisfied smirk returning to his face. "It’s not a military fortress, but it’ll definitely get the job done for now."
Alexander immediately hit the buy button for the silver Tahoe, the transaction processing within seconds. However, instead of selecting the option to have it delivered to the TMC hotel, his eyes caught a flashing icon on the screen that read: Available for immediate pickup at the terminal.
"Perfect," muttered Alexander, closing the app. He leaned forward again, tapping the driver’s shoulder. "Hey, let’s change routes one more time. Take me to the industrial docks, warehouse section four."
The taxi driver’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, his eyes darting to the rearview mirror with a look of deep suspicion. "Look, man, I can’t keep doing this. First one house, then the hotel, now the industrial docks? This is way too many changes. I don’t want any trouble, and honestly, this whole thing feels wrong. I’m not getting involved in whatever illegal shit you’re caught up in. I’m dropping you off at the next corner."
"Are one thousand dollars enough to change your mind?" said Alexander, his voice perfectly calm as he reached into his jacket.
"No way, sir..!" said the driver, his voice rising in panic as he shook his head. "Look at the news, look at how the city is right now! No amount of money is worth getting my car shot up or ending up in a ditch. I have a family, I can’t just—"
"How about five thousand?" said Alexander, tossing a thick, bound stack of hundreds straight onto the front passenger seat.
The driver stopped talking, his eyes locking onto the massive bundle of cash sitting right next to him. He swallowed hard, his throat going dry as his fingers twitched on the steering wheel.
The driver stared at the money for a tense, silent second, then aggressively grabbed the stack of bills and shoved it into his glove compartment.
"Warehouse section four, you said?" said the driver, his voice a bit shaky but his foot already slamming hard onto the accelerator as he yanked the steering wheel toward the industrial highway.
Alexander leaned back into the seat and let out a loud, genuine laugh. He shook his head, looking out the tinted window as the city buildings began to blur past. It was hilarious to him how easily people compromised their morals when the price was right.
As he amusedly entertained that thought, however, he failed to realize that the exact same rule applied to him—he, too, had a price, and he was already bought and paid for by the highest bidder.
