"That truck is going to need a lot of work." Jose said as he looked at Miguel.

"She sure will. The engine is a mess, the brakes are basically gone, the interior is, well, look through the window. It'll need a ton of stuff to it to get it back and running."

"Then why do it?"

"You know exactly why, you just don't want to say it. That was the price. An old body for an old body, they said. I didn't know that was what they had meant when I agreed to that, but hell, I'm not complaining."

"About that," Miguel said. "Why the fuck did they do this to you? So you could get a truck? I don't get it."

"According them, and I learned this only after everything, I had this weird genetic trait, and my organs could not only save lives, but would net whoever had that a ton of money. They found a braindead woman's body and here I am. Look, Jose, everyone wins here. They got what they wanted, and I got what I wanted and something I didn't even know I wanted. I'm calling it a victory. So, can we stop about all that, and you can see what we can do to repair my only old body now?"