This morning, the scent of used oil and rust hung sharper than usual in the Sector 7 workshop.
Johnny stood in the center of the shop, staring up at the steel plates that blocked out the real sky. He realized one thing: In his old world, as Guts, power was about how big your sword was and how hard you could swing it. But here... power was about Gears, Mako, and Circuits.
Even though SOLDIER First Class operatives wielded swords just like him in battle, understanding mechanics was still a top priority. Understanding machines was the key to dissecting the anatomy of Shinra's power, because every inch of that corporation stood on a complex network of Mako Reactors and highly technical energy transmission systems.
The memories of the "original Johnny" were there in his head, but they were vague and full of laziness. The old Johnny only worked as much as necessary—welding sloppily, moving boxes, wiping tables, and then running off to play.
"This isn't enough," Johnny thought. "If I want to understand my enemy, I must understand how this world works."
Garrick, his father, was busy tinkering with an old electric fan at the workbench. The mustachioed, middle-aged man hummed a small tune, his grease-stained hands moving nimbly.
"Dad," Johnny called out suddenly.
Garrick turned, his work glasses sliding down his nose. "Hm? Did you already deliver Mrs. Folia's order?"
"I did. But it's not about that." Johnny stepped closer, his eyes serious. "I... I want to learn about machines. Teach me everything. Not just how to carry heavy things."
Garrick paused. The screwdriver in his hand stopped turning. He stared at his son as if Johnny had just grown a second horn.
"What's gotten into you?" Garrick asked suspiciously. "I thought you only wanted to focus on being a monster hunter?"
"Hunting monsters is still my main goal," Johnny answered firmly. "But, Dad... Shinra built this city with machines. Reactors, robots, weapons... they're all machines. I'm curious about how they work. How pistons move, how electricity flows."
Johnny pointed to a dark corner of the shop, where a dusty, wrecked motorcycle was parked—a pathetic skeleton of metal.
"Besides..." Johnny's voice lowered slightly, and he scratched his cheek which didn't actually itch. "If I can fix that... it would be nice. I could take Aerith for a ride around the Sector on a bike. Her feet wouldn't get sore."
Silence for a moment. Then, Garrick's laughter exploded.
"BWAHAHAHA!" Garrick laughed so hard he slapped his workbench. "You love-struck fool! Turns out your motivation is a girl!"
Johnny pouted but didn't deny it.
Garrick wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, then looked at Johnny with pride. The warm gaze of a father.
"I'm proud of you, Son. Whatever the reason... whether it's to understand Shinra or just to give that flower girl a ride... the desire to learn is good. Your lazy streak is finally gone."
Garrick tossed a wrench toward Johnny. Johnny caught it with lightning reflexes.
"Alright. Starting today, you aren't a porter anymore. You're my apprentice. But remember, I'm a strict teacher. Don't cry if you get hit with a wrench."
================================================================
For a full month, Johnny reduced the frequency of his hunts. He traded his greatsword for a small screwdriver, and monster blood for black grease.
However, he remained disciplined in visiting Aerith every week, bringing stories of his progress (and sometimes small burns from a soldering iron).
In the workshop, Garrick started from the basics. He placed an old motorcycle engine block on the table.
"Listen," Garrick said. "An engine is like a human body."
Garrick pointed to the metal tube in the center. "Cylinder. This is the heart chamber. And this..." He lifted a heavy iron rod. "Piston. This moves up and down inside the cylinder. It moves because of an explosion."
"Explosion?" Johnny asked.
"Yes. Fuel and air enter through the Valve, then the spark plug ignites it. BOOM! That explosion pushes the Piston down," Garrick demonstrated with his hands. "That up-and-down motion turns the Shaft, and then that power is channeled through Gears and a Chain to the rear wheel."
Johnny's eyes lit up. This logic made sense to him.
"The piston is like a repeated sword thrust," Johnny thought. "The chain is the muscle channeling the power. And the Oil... this lubricant is the blood so the iron bones don't break from friction."
"Understood?" Garrick asked.
"Understood. Piston hits, Shaft turns, Chain pulls. Brutal but effective," Johnny summarized.
Garrick nodded. "Yeah... that's one way to put it."
However, the real challenge wasn't the crude machinery. The challenge was Household Appliances.
Since personal vehicles were rare in Sector 7, Garrick's workshop survived by repairing washing machines, refrigerators, and blenders.
Johnny sat at the workbench with cold sweat trickling down his temple. In front of him lay a small, complicated green board (PCB).
"Don't press too hard, Boss!" whispered Puck, sitting on the desk lamp. "That's not a monster's neck! That's an electronic brain!"
"Quiet, you," hissed Johnny, his large, calloused hands trembling as he held the hot soldering iron.
"This is called a PCB, where copper paths organize the program," Garrick explained patiently. "And this small tube is a Capacitor; it stores electricity temporarily to give the initial jolt. If you install it backward... BOOM, it explodes."
Johnny gulped.
Day by day, Johnny learned to recognize those annoying little components:
Thermostat: The fussy temperature sensor tasked with cutting the current so the oven doesn't explode. Johnny often got annoyed fixing it; the thing was so sensitive that a slight misalignment meant the bread would never bake or would end up as charcoal.
Solenoid: An automatic water valve in a washing machine. "Like a fortress gate," Johnny thought.
Heating Element: The wire inside a toaster. Johnny liked this part, the principle was simple: add electricity, get searing heat. Like a technological version of Aerith's fire magic.
"Boss, you're installing that Electric Motor into the blender, right?" Puck commented while Johnny was reassembling a broken blender. "Why are you putting the Thermostat there? A blender doesn't need that, it's for juice!"
Johnny froze. He looked at the component in his left hand. Wrong part.
"Dammit. Why do they all look alike," Johnny grumbled.
"Because you're stupid, Boss," Puck teased, flying out of the way of a bolt Johnny threw at him.
================================================================
Despite the frustration and small explosions, Johnny learned quickly. His sharp combat instincts turned out to be useful in diagnosing problems.
He could "hear" when a machine sounded wrong—whether it was a loose Belt, a worn-out Gear, or an Electric Motor humming unstably.
One afternoon, Garrick tossed him a broken Iron that its owner had declared dead.
"Try fixing this. If it lights up, you pass stage one."
Johnny disassembled it deftly. He checked the Power Cord (safe), checked the Heating Element (broken at the tip).
"Just needs to be reconnected," Johnny muttered. He soldered the fine wire with the precision of a surgeon—the same hands capable of cleaving a monster in two. Then he checked the Thermostat and cleaned off the rust.
He reattached the protective Casing, then plugged it in.
The indicator light glowed red. Johnny turned the temperature knob.
CLICK.
The Iron started to heat up.
Garrick smiled broadly while exhaling cigarette smoke. "Good. You have talent, Son. Your hands are rough, but your touch is gentle."
Johnny stared at the Iron with a strange sense of satisfaction. Fixing something broken offered a different kind of fulfillment than destroying an enemy.
He turned to the corner of the room, staring at the wrecked old motorcycle.
"Just you wait," Johnny thought. "Soon I will bring you to life. And I will take Aerith to see Midgar."
Inside his pocket, Puck clapped slowly. "Good job, Apprentice Mechanic. Now, buy me an apple with the money from that iron repair."