HLM – Chapter 1015 Steel Behemoth

Before entering the Ford dealership, Wang Bo made a call. A white man in a sharp suit came out to greet him and asked, “Mr. Wang?”

Wang Bo shook his hand. “Hello, I’m Wang, from Sunset Town. I assume Kaplan has already given you a heads-up?”

The white man nodded politely. “Yes. Our mutual friend told me you have a considerable demand for pickup trucks and that I should take good care of you.”

This Ford dealership was enormous—easily over ten thousand square meters. It was divided into several sections: new cars, used cars, a service area, and a display hall.

The man Kaplan introduced was named George Harvedon, the general manager of Ford’s Christchurch branch and a regional director. He personally accompanied Wang Bo on a tour of the dealership.

They first entered the display section. In the center stood a steel behemoth, surrounded by various Ford vehicles like a pack of beasts guarding their king.

This steel behemoth was a pickup truck—though it had already surpassed the definition of a pickup. The thing was over ten meters long and more than three and a half meters tall. Wang Bo even had to look up at it.

“My God, this really is a monster,” Wang Bo exclaimed.

Motak rushed over and had his companion take a picture of him. “Ford’s concept series is out? Boss, buy this one—on the farm, it could handle everything with ease.”

Wang Bo really was interested. This wasn’t a pickup—this was an armored vehicle!

His usual ride, the Predator, was already a big boy. But compared to this thing, the Predator was just the little brother—much smaller.

George smiled. “Unfortunately, gentlemen, as your Māori friend said, this is our concept car. It’s not available for sale yet.”

Wang Bo stroked the vehicle. “Since you’ve built a full-scale model, production shouldn’t be far off, right?”

George shook his head. “It is a model—but not the kind you’re thinking of. Right now it’s just an empty shell. The engine, transmission, and operating systems are all missing.”

Wang Bo opened the door to look inside. Climbing up required a small ladder stored under the footboard.

George demonstrated the ladder, then put it away with a smile. “But you don’t need all that. See this button? Press it.”

The footboard slowly descended like an elevator. Wang Bo stepped on and pulled the button upward, lifting himself to the cab.

Seeing this, he couldn’t hide his amazement.

Ford truly lived up to its reputation as a first-rate automaker. This concept truck was pure fantasy—even getting in and out didn’t require effort. This wasn’t a farm vehicle; it was a luxurious toy.

It wasn’t even meant for farmers anyway. George said that once released, the vehicle would cost at least 500,000 NZD—considered a premium car in New Zealand.

Sitting in the driver’s seat felt even better.

The view from this cab made the Predator’s seem cramped. The driver’s seat wasn’t a seat—it was a throne. Sitting in it felt like being enveloped. It could recline fully into a small bed, and the rear wasn’t seats but a sofa—an actual business-class sofa. Even Atulu could comfortably have fun in this thing.

There were many more impressive details, but Wang Bo stopped looking. If he kept going, he wouldn’t be able to resist wanting one—and even if he wanted it, it wasn’t for sale.

“Take me to look at the F-series,” Wang Bo said as he reluctantly stepped down, giving the luxurious beast one last longing glance.

George led him out. “If you like big, domineering machines, there’s no need to dwell on concept cars. Our F650 and F750 are more than fierce enough.”

Wang Bo’s ranch used an F150—the entry-level Ford F-series pickup. It was perfect for ranch work, but for farm work, it was a bit insufficient.

He chose Ford not only because of Kaplan’s recommendation, but because he genuinely liked Ford pickups. Aside from being thirsty on fuel, they had no shortcomings. His ranch truck had done heavy duty work for almost four years without a single problem.

They first looked at the Ford Raptor F650, a mid-sized commercial pickup with a wide variety of options—customizable from the front end to the cargo bed and load capacity.

“In the U.S., this model is expensive,” George explained, “but it’s still the favorite of farm owners. It even has a nickname—the Burger King. You choose how much meat you want in your burger based on appetite.”

Wang Bo nodded. “Burger King, huh? Nice, I prefer it over McDonald’s.”

The F650 was indeed another steel beast—6.5 meters long, 2.8 meters tall, and 2.7 meters wide. Its massive dimensions and rugged lines made it imposing. It had four doors, a spacious interior, a huge bumper, air intakes, and headlights on the fender flares. From the front, it looked like a charging beast.

But unfortunately, they had just seen the steel fortress earlier. So the F650 felt a little less impressive by comparison.

George, knowing this, shifted the focus to performance.

“This big guy uses a 6.7L V8 Cummins diesel engine—maximum output 239 kW, maximum torque 800 N·m. Even in the wild, it runs like the wind.”

He also explained the operating systems:

ABS + EBD emergency braking, traction control, dual airbags, hydraulic power steering, rear air suspension, remote key, multifunction display, dual-zone automatic climate control, and more.

What pleasantly surprised Wang Bo was the power footboard—just like the concept car. Even a child could easily get in.

“What’s the load capacity?” Wang Bo cared most about this. The truck needed to haul grain.

George looked proud. “You’re asking about its best feature. Without modifications, it can carry 12 tons. That already surpasses ordinary pickups, as I’m sure you know.”

“And modified?”

“Once modified, it becomes a true barbarian—capable of hauling 17 tons, equivalent to a standard U.S. Class 8 heavy truck.”

Indeed, in terms of load capacity, the F650 deserved the title “steel behemoth.” It easily exceeded everything Wang Bo needed.