The Gold Robbery Mastermind
Arthur Sterling wove his battered vintage bike through the bustling, sunlit streets of Los Angeles.
The motorcycle itself was nothing particularly special or expensive.
However, his [Driving] skill had officially hit level four that very morning, and the massive, supernatural difference showed immediately.
Even in the thick, chaotic California traffic, his enhanced brain plotted the absolute perfect racing line.
He expertly sliced between slow moving civilian cars, effortlessly leaving them far behind in his vibrating rearview mirrors.
A complicated, cross city ride that should have normally taken at least twenty minutes was flawlessly completed in exactly ten.
He rolled to a smooth stop outside a massive, nondescript warehouse situated in the grimy industrial district.
The sprawling brick building was quite large, probably measuring four or five hundred square meters in total size.
America's booming, trillion dollar logistics industry meant massive, forgotten warehouses exactly like this were absolutely everywhere.
Yet Arthur could not help but smile warmly as he killed the roaring engine.
Every single illicit, underground garage he had ever worked in alongside Old Parker had looked exactly like this weathered, industrial building.
A sleek, unassuming Volkswagen pulled up to the curb about four minutes later.
Charlie Croker stepped out of the driver's seat, his sharp eyes immediately falling on the scattered cigarette butts near Arthur's heavy boots.
"How long have you been waiting here?" Charlie asked smoothly, assessing the young mechanic.
"About five minutes," Arthur replied casually, stepping forward and stubbing out his cigarette on the cracked asphalt.
He was not actually much of a heavy smoker, but it helped perfectly pass the time while projecting a calm, unbothered image.
Charlie quietly and intensely studied the young mechanic standing in front of him.
Most Westerners usually could not easily tell the subtle differences between various white nationalities, much like whites could rarely separate French from German at a simple glance.
All Charlie knew for absolute certain was that the kid was indeed white.
"Hope you are actually reliable," Charlie muttered under his breath, glancing skeptically at the battered, ticking vintage bike.
Then he fished out a heavy set of brass keys from his jacket pocket.
"Follow me."
Charlie confidently unlocked the heavy steel warehouse door and walked inside into the gloom.
Arthur followed closely behind him, his steps light and perfectly balanced.
Having already thoroughly tested his newly acquired, lethal combat strength by violently beating Vince into a hospital bed, he felt completely secure.
Combined with the fully loaded Colt M1911 pistol safely tucked inside his invisible dimensional private space, he was absolutely not worried about encountering any sudden danger or an ambush.
Since it was still quite early in the day, the interior was reasonably bright.
Even without turning on the main overhead industrial lights, the natural sunlight streaming through the warehouse's dusty upper windows was more than enough to see clearly.
Arthur immediately spotted a massive, heavy duty Dodge Ram 3500 Van parked perfectly in the center of the concrete floor.
In his previous life back in Xia Country, this was exactly the type of utilitarian vehicle often referred to as a simple bread van.
Looking at the heavy, cumbersome vehicle, Arthur was genuinely somewhat surprised by the choice.
"You want to heavily modify this thing?" he asked the middle aged white man who called himself Charlie.
It was absolutely not surprising that Arthur felt shocked by the request.
Although the Dodge Ram 3500 Van was widely considered a high performance passenger van, its actual market positioning made it quite an awkward, heavy platform.
If someone desperately wanted better, heavier cargo capacity, they could simply switch to a slightly larger commercial light truck.
And if they wanted significantly better road handling while still maintaining some decent cargo space, switching to a heavy duty pickup truck would be far more effective than modifying this specific kind of top heavy vehicle.
At the very least, Arthur had rarely ever heard of anyone spending massive amounts of money to modify this kind of clumsy van for illegal smuggling or fast getaways.
After all, the actual mechanical potential for modification compared to the massive financial cost was simply disproportionate.
Charlie nodded firmly, completely ignoring the mechanical skepticism.
"I want this specific vehicle to have significantly more horsepower, and I also need to install some heavy circuitry, advanced electronic equipment, and large storage batteries inside."
"I need all the standard glass in the rear compartment completely replaced with specialized one way privacy glass so absolutely no one can see inside from the outside."
"At the exact same time, I need it to maintain a very specific, high load capacity."
Arthur immediately understood that this was a massive, highly complex modification task.
He walked over to the silent vehicle, slowly circled it for a while to let his mechanical instincts map the structural frame, and then spoke again.
"Can I open the doors to take a closer look?"
Arthur had not had much direct, hands on contact with this specific type of heavy American van before, knowing only the rough specifications of some basic models from his technical reading.
Charlie simply shrugged and made a polite, sweeping gesture of invitation.
Arthur pulled open the heavy side door and poked his head inside to look around the spacious interior.
He then climbed fully into the vehicle to carefully inspect the internal structural supports and the mounting points.
Coming out a moment later, he lay down flat on the cold concrete and closely examined the bare steel chassis, checking for rust or weak suspension links.
Afterward, he walked to the front of the bulky vehicle and popped the heavy hood to check the current state of the V8 engine.
After a good, long while of silent, meticulous inspection, Arthur stood up, wiped the thick grease from his hands on a rag, and looked back at Charlie.
He asked directly, "About how much do the electronic equipment and batteries you plan to install actually weigh?"
Charlie replied smoothly, "It should be roughly around four hundred pounds."
Arthur calculated rapidly in his highly enhanced mind.
Four hundred pounds was roughly over one hundred and eighty kilograms of pure dead weight.
He spoke again, his tone highly professional and analytical.
"This specific van currently puts out about four hundred horsepower from the factory block."
"The heavy electronic equipment and dense batteries alone are roughly equivalent to the dead weight of two strong adult men."
"Then add the driver, and possibly one or two other people needed to operate the equipment in the back."
"Under normal, everyday driving conditions, the remaining safe payload of this van might already be severely reduced to less than three hundred kilograms."
"How much remaining payload do you still absolutely need it to safely carry?"
Charlie heard that the young mechanic had flawlessly arrived at the exact same mathematical data he had already calculated himself after only a brief, visual inspection.
He could not help but feel a massive surge of joy, knowing with absolute certainty that the unknown technician his old underworld friend had found this time was indeed a highly skilled modifier.
Consequently, a bit more of a genuine, relieved smile appeared on Charlie's face.
He stated a staggering, impossible number that completely shocked Arthur.
"At least one ton or more."
Arthur's brow twitched violently.
He turned to look deeply at Charlie and stopped speaking for a long, tense moment.
Although the interior space in a Dodge Ram 3500 Van was certainly not small, this specific one was the standard passenger model.
Its safe cargo capacity was already nearly half a ton less than the dedicated cargo version of the exact same model.
The other party's request was not just high anymore.
Mechanically speaking, it was practically an impossible demand that would snap the axles in half.
If it were not for his very strong suspicions about the true identity of this middle aged white man calling himself Charlie, Arthur would have seriously suspected he was just a crazy person here to cause trouble.
Could this guy truly be Charlie Croker from The Italian Job? Arthur thought, his heart racing with raw excitement.
If it really is him, then this guy's target is exactly a full ton of gold.
After a rapid mental calculation, thanks entirely to his current [Intelligence] which far exceeded that of any ordinary person, he quickly formulated a flawless modification plan in his mind.
The massive amount of relevant mechanical knowledge and practical experience brought by his Level 4 [Repair] skill provided the exact suspension and engine upgrades needed.
"No problem. I can basically meet all your extreme requirements," Arthur stated confidently, crossing his arms.
"However, the raw modification costs will absolutely not be low."
"I will give you a highly detailed list of heavy parts that need to be completely replaced, and you can securely source them yourself."
"Once all the necessary parts for the Dodge actually arrive here, I can perfectly finish the entire build in two days at most."
"But I must remind you that the raw parts cost alone will not be less than seventy thousand dollars."
"And that is absolutely not counting my separate labor fee for the complex modification."
Before Arthur could even name his high labor price, Charlie spoke up and firmly interrupted him.
"Ten thousand dollars."
Arthur was completely stunned, but he clearly saw Charlie's firm, non negotiable attitude.
"I will pay you exactly ten thousand dollars at most," Charlie declared, his eyes locking onto Arthur.
"Five thousand will be paid upfront right now, and the remaining five thousand will be paid immediately after the modifications are fully complete and tested."
"If you can accept that price, I will go buy the parts immediately."
"If you cannot, I will find someone else."
Ten thousand dollars was admittedly a bit lower than Arthur's initial expectation for such a massive, structurally impossible job.
However, he was incredibly interested in confirming whether this Charlie was indeed the legendary gold thief Charlie Croker.
After some quick, strategic thought, he nodded and agreed.
"Fine. I will write a precise list of the required parts for you in just a moment."
"You also need to deliver the electronic equipment, batteries, and heavy wiring that need to be installed as soon as humanly possible."
"As a side note," Arthur added, a sharp, challenging smirk appearing on his face.
"If you add another five thousand dollars to my fee, I absolutely guarantee I can finish the entire, impossible modification within a single day."
"I will do it even if I have to work straight through without eating or sleeping."
"I mean exactly what I say."
This time, it was Charlie's turn to be completely stunned.
He had never met a mechanic so wildly confident in their own speed and endurance.
He pondered the bold offer for a tense moment before slowly nodding in agreement.
"Fine, fifteen thousand then," Charlie agreed, extending a hand to seal the deal.
"I want to see the modifications perfectly finished within a day."