The Badlands earned its name for a reason: the environment was harsh, barren, and unforgiving.
Here, the most valuable resource wasn't gold, oil, or data—it was the wandering population. Humanoid creatures captured at will, ripe for experiments, living tools for whoever held power.
This place was a true Chaotic Zone—lawless, merciless, and despised by city dwellers while exploited by corporations.
No one knew exactly when the Badlands had become a shadowy experimental base for major companies. The sins of Night City were buried deep here.
Honestly, if Dakota Smith's knowledge of corporate experiments ever leaked, even the largest companies would suffer severe reputational damage. At minimum, a high-ranking executive would have to be sacrificed to appease public outrage.
But Dakota's immediate concern wasn't the secret experiments—it was something that had always existed in the Badlands, though rarely noticed: protein farms.
These were the sites used by Biotechnica to breed "protein" and cultivate high-sugar wheat. If the Cult of Mechanicus occupied them, it would mean seizing the majority of Night City's food and energy supply—the lifeblood of the metropolis.
Yet these farms were heavily guarded by armies of paid deserters. Not even the most reckless Night City scavenger would dare trespass.
"They're going to war with Biotechnica… are they insane?!" Dakota exclaimed.
She immediately contacted Rogue. She needed to understand what drove the Mechanicus before she could intervene. She didn't want the actions of these "garbage people" to drag her into chaos.
Even if she had some understanding of the Mechanicus, Dakota didn't believe that a cult of tens of thousands could confront a giant corporation head-on.
After all, Biotechnology was the developer of CHOOH2. Su Petrochemical and Pezochemical—companies controlling global energy—both relied on Biotechnology's tech to amass fortunes.
Their scale was immense, dwarfing any cult.
Despite the moral implications, Dakota did not want to become entangled with the Mechanicum and risk the liquidation of Biotechnica.
"I don't know the full details, but the Badlands and Military Technology have already been disrupted by the Mechanicum," Rogue said, giving her advice. "Do whatever the other side wants; at least they won't hurt the prisoners."
Rogue and Dakota were old acquaintances, and he warned her immediately.
"I… what? What's going on? Aren't they just a bunch of garbage men with some tech?" Dakota's eyes widened. With her intelligence system, all she knew about the Mechanicus was that they were homeless people emerging from the junkyard.
"Who knows? Maybe they've mastered some incredibly potent brainwashing technology—or maybe there really is a god. All I know is that undercover agents sent by Kang Tao and Military Technology ended up defecting to the Mechanicus."
Rogue shrugged, shocked that Xiao had developed the Mechanicus so extensively in just one month. Truly, he was a born magician.
"Oh my god… I was going to sever ties with the Adeptus Mechanicus, but it looks like they're trying to declare war on Biotechnica!"
Dakota grimaced. The Badlands and the junkyard had extensive borders, so there was significant overlap between the two.
Her primary business in the Badlands was used-car restoration: moving scrap, salvaging parts, and rebuilding vehicles for resale. The Adeptus Mechanicus excelled at finding parts and repairing motorcycles, supplying her with many second-hand vehicles.
Over the past month, the Cult of Mechanicus had brought Dakota considerable profits. Their cooperation had been pleasant.
"Emmmm… the goal probably isn't Biotechnica; maybe they just want to preach. So don't resist—join the religion. Those guys are petty. If they discover that you've made money off them but still don't believe in the God of All Machines, they could hang you up and burn you alive!"
Rogue considered this, looked at Dakota with a peculiar smile, and then ended the call:
"Old Bitch… even at your age, you still need a skin graft. Hope you lose face tomorrow!"
Dakota cursed under her breath, then instructed her subordinates to stand down. They removed their weapons, hung the seal of the God of All Machines on the walls, and waited for the mechanical priests to preach.
Thousands of mechanical priests led their followers through the Badlands in a wild, unrelenting charge.
Whenever they arrived at a camp and did not see the mark of the God of All Machines, they declared war—surrender or die.
Initially, a few pockets of lawless people resisted. Among them were the outcasts expelled from tribal families. But they soon fell to the overwhelming onslaught of the Mechanicus cultists.
For the first time, the mechanical monks demonstrated their full strength.
As a mechanical monk, one could push the prosthetic body to 200% output without worrying about nerve compression.
Overloading the combat prosthetics as if they would explode at any moment, the monks radiated astonishing energy.
Those in battle fought like true cybermaniacs: fast, ferocious, ignoring physical limits, unleashing violence with full output.
With indestructible power axes, chainsaws, and bolt guns, they were almost unmatched in both melee and ranged combat.
Especially the bolt guns. Originally smart bullets with built-in boosters, they didn't require marksmanship—the projectile tracked its target. A weapon for the wealthy.
The Mechanicus, however, stripped the intelligent guidance system, replacing it with small rocket boosters. Warheads were replaced with highly penetrative metal. A single shot's power rivaled a fully charged Ajax assault rifle.
These modified weapons ignored recoil completely; without prosthetic limbs, the recoil alone could shatter a person.
Yet the bolt gun was standard issue within the Mechanicus. Each believer had enhanced themselves to wield it safely.
To outsiders, the Mechanicus appeared no different from the Maelstrom Gang—both were lunatics obsessed with mechanical ascension.
The difference: The Mechanicum pursued perfection, valuing the preservation of human form. Even bishops who had undergone full-body modifications retained 100% human appearance when not in combat mode—more perfect than ordinary people.
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