The Legendary Mechanic Novels & Stories

I approached him and said in a firm, steady voice, "Tell me what happened. This is your last chance to speak the truth. If you lied to me, even one word, you wouldn't get a second chance." That short man arranged his disarrayed clothes and said, "Yes! I will tell you everything, Lady! I'm a mechanic who's working at Mechanic World. My name is Chip. Last month, I was working in the shop. A tall, dark man approached me and asked me to repair his Ford. I took a look at his car and told him that his car was beyond repair. But then, he started asking me weird questions about car accidents. He told me that he wanted me to create a car accident. He said the owner of the car owed him some money. So

He was not as reckless as Caleb, who drove a defensive vehicle like it was a sports car. That man was ruthless and emotionless. “Serves you right for not recognizing your own wife!” Jeremy cursed and then called his mechanic. “Tow my car for modifications. What kind of junk is this? It can’t even beat a regular car.” The mechanic on the other end was baffled by the scolding.

Removing car parts, attaching spare parts, fixing the car's engine, and all that stuff. The only thing keeping me going is my plan for a better life for my mother. Anytime I feel any weakness I always put my mother first. Whenever I'm working it's just as if... it just feels as if my mother is cheering me on. Telling me... Son, don't give up, you will make it in this life. I love my mother so much, too much. If anything ever happens to her my whole life would be ruined. "How come every mechanic I see here is dirty?" Hilton asked.

There was even a counterfeit Patek Philippe watch on his wrist. I thought to myself, we haven’t seen each other in a while, but did he really need to pretend this much? I reached out to remove his Prada sunglasses and said, “Stan, you should stay grounded.” “There’s nothing wrong with being a mechanic. It’s honest work, and you’re making money with your own skills. But wearing fake luxury brands just doesn’t suit you...” Before I could finish my lecture, he silenced me with a kiss. “Why don’t you take a closer look and see if I’m really wearing fake stuff?”

His fingers lingered briefly on the back of my hand, as if in silent apology, before walking to the window and dialing a number. “Dad, Harry’s already found that mechanic from back then.” There were two seconds of silence on the other end before Danny’s cold voice came through. “Take care of him.” … Suburban auto repair shop, 3:15 a.m. A scar-faced man kicked the iron door open, his dagger glinting under the moonlight. The mechanic cowered against the wall, trembling. “I-I won’t say anything!” “The boss says only dead men won’t talk.” Scarface sneered, raising the dagger high.

I said and entered his car the moment we got into the garage. Kelvin still stood outside, his hand frozen over the door's handle. I peeked out and asked, "Are you tired? Should I get another driver?" I asked and his eyes widened. He rushed into the car, fixing his seat belt into place, "Don't worry, I'm fine." He said and I nodded. He turned back quickly and started the car. I looked out the window the entire ride back, letting the cold breeze blow against my face, it would only be a few more months here and I would be leaving again.

Ethan crouched down beside the tilted motorcycle, tucking his leather folder tightly under one arm so the worn corners wouldn't touch the grease on the pavement. "May I ask just one quick question?" Ethan asked, looking up at the mechanic. The mechanic crossed his arms over his chest, his hostility slowly giving way to cautious wariness. "What?" "Were you moving when the impact happened?" The mechanic shifted his boots, suddenly reluctant. "...Barely." Ethan turned his gaze to the courier, his voice remaining patient, almost gentle. "And were you looking directly at the road ahead of you?"

"Oh my gods, thank you! I am starving." A self-pleased smirk replaces his smile when he responds "You're absolutely welcome. Shall we go?" I nod, and he leads the way back to his truck. We're at the mechanic's shop in less than 5 minutes, the shop almost walking distance from his home. The silver-haired mechanic, Steve, was a kindly gentleman who didn't charge me anything other than parts. "It was a labor of love to get you back on the road," he explains. "I honestly found the challenge of repairing your engine a truly engaging puzzle."

To put it bluntly, it was burning energy in exchange for strength and speed, which was a skill, even if it wasn't labeled as one. "If I use Overdrive Combat Power Enhancement and then the short-term burst, my mech's power..." Victor glanced towards the elevator entrance. Victor had a feeling; if he went all out, he might be able to slice the Behemoth in half with a single slash. "Equip!" There was no reason not to equip such an exquisite piece of equipment. The Legendary engine had other quirks too. When Victor chose to equip the engine, it immediately established a connection with his mech. The engine shrunk on its own to fit into Victor's mech.

When I didn't move, he dropped to his knees with a thud and tried to crawl over and wrap his arms around my legs. "Sara, I was wrong. I was so wrong. I'll give up Redline Racing, I'll stop being Mr. Black. I'll go back to being your private mechanic. Please." He wept, snot and tears streaking his face, utterly wretched. I walked over, expressionless, but not to help him up. I lifted my foot and slammed it hard into the replica's front bumper. The flimsy plastic cracked on impact. "Ethan, you're used to dropping millions on paintings to put on a show, used to people swarming around you. Can you really stand to lie under a cold chassis again, swallowing a mouthful of dust?"