The Legendary Mechanic Wiki Novels & Stories

The Mechanical Logic of the Flight The interceptor roared to life, its "Zero-Point" engine producing a "Low-Frequency" vibration that rattled the hangar’s "Mechanical" floor. Ethan slammed the vehicle into gear, bursting through the "Broken" pressure-gate and into the "Labyrinth" of New Geneva’s streets.

Beside it sat Sean’s Porsche GT3, a beast of a machine that mirrored its owner’s aggressive confidence. Matt, our lead mechanic, was hunched over the engine bay of the Porsche, his hands grease-stained as he made the final adjustments. He was a man of few words, but his precision was legendary. He moved with a surgical focus, tightening a bolt here, adjusting a valve there, ensuring that every single component was tuned to perfection. Coal stood between us, his arms crossed, looking more like a general than a strategist. He glanced at the clock and then at us.

“He wasn’t going to talk, Lys. And even if he did, everything that came out of his mouth would have been a lie. It’s better this way.” I turned to the mechanic who stood there watching the whole scene, his eyes wide with terror and he stepped back as I pointed at the dead body. “See that?” I told him, my voice deadly cold and hard. “That's what happens to anyone who tries to screw me or my brother over.” The mechanic swallowed hard and nodded quickly, his hands shaking visibly. “I-I didn’t mean any harm, honest.” I stepped closer, towering over him. “I don’t care. You tried to set us up.”

"Almost like it was designed by a Primary. Who are you?" Julian looked up, and for a moment, the billionaire stared out of the mechanic’s eyes. But then, he blinked, and the mask of the anonymous traveler returned. "Just a man who knows his way around a wrench," Julian said. The woman smiled, a look of profound respect crossing her face. "Well, 'Mechanic,' if you’re looking for work, the Archipelago always needs people who know how to talk to the machines."

"For your sake? Who do you think you are? When I dropped by your shop to repair two watches, two of the internal mechanisms went missing. I don't care if you want to run a luxury goods business, but you should focus on fulfilling my requests first and foremost, no? "Not only did you waste my time, but you also damaged my watches. And yet you're still trying to get me to contract your services? Are you joking with me right now?" Terence elbowed Rebecca, causing the latter to nearly jump out of her skin. A wobbly smile stretched across her lips as she explained, "There are professionals who specialize in repairing watches. Unfortunately, our business doesn't—"

He was determined to face his fears head on, stand up for himself and move on from everything that has happened. The public already saw him as a gigolo but it wasn’t too late to redeem his image. The mechanic slowly stood up from where he was bent over the car and turned to them where they stood. “The brake was tampered with, it’s extremely loose, it would have been a miracle if the brakes actually responded to you, “ The mechanic finally said confirming Jayden fears. He just knew who did it, he was very sure about who did it, because it all made sense! Charis had every reason to try and end his life.

Your inability to pay off your debt is a direct consequence of your ineptitude. Ves had to suppress the urge to raise his middle finger. Instead, he challenged this stupid System. "I admit, I used to be a stupid kid, but I cleaned up my act. I'm a mech designer now!" [It is your lucky day! The Mech Designer System is the ultimate tool in this galaxy to design any machine that falls under the category of mechs. Any authorized user is allowed to use this System's many tools to design any mech imaginable with no conceivable limits.]

He seems hesitant, perhaps because he's confessing to his boss that he has access to this type of person. I don't give a fucking shit. -"And…" I encourage. -"Did any of them recognize the car?" I continue asking. -"Yeah, a crooked mechanic from California. Los Angeles, to be specific. Denney Cooper recognized the plate, and admitted to having it made for some strange guy. Almost six feet tall, dark hair, military build, and an unmistakable tattoo. Something about a bow and arrow on his arm." I listen carefully and take in the man's features. It's certainly not Jack, but some son of a bitch of an acquaintance.

I said plainly, stating the faults caused by the race. “Okay, Sir!” The mechanic replied. He signalled his co-worker. The co-worker nodded and ran towards the other route. He returned shortly, sitting behind the wheel of a tow truck. I watched as the mechanic attached the winch to the car’s axle. He gave the driver a thumb up as a signal to start driving. “So, ready to celebrate? 156th win so far.” Jasper said enthusiastically. Hm! I slid my hand to my pocket and got a pack of cigarettes. I took out a stick and discarded the rest in my pocket. I lit it with a lighter.

My car broke down on the road, so I took off my jacket, popped the hood, and started checking the problem right there at the curb. A brand new convertible swung in and stopped in front of me, close enough to make a point. My ex-wife Sarah got out on the arm of a man in a tailored suit, one hand clamped over her nose in disgust. "Leo, all these years since the divorce and you're still a bottom-rung mechanic who reeks of motor oil." I wiped the grease off my hands. I could not be bothered to explain that this limited-edition supercar was one I had picked up brand new. When I stayed quiet, Sarah shoved a screenshot of her trading profits in my face. "See that? David got me into a tech stock. On