Chapter 35: Cyberpunk and the Hospital

[Murmuring]

“What? What’s going on?”

In front of the dungeon, always bustling with people.

Even at night, the entrance to the dungeon was crowded with explorers.

A mundane, everyday scene that was nothing special.

But that day was a bit different.

Boom!

“Move aside! It’s D4C! Everyone, stand back!”

A flying vehicle landed at the dungeon entrance, and a squad poured out.

Dressed head-to-toe in ultra-high-grade bulletproof visors and NIJ Level 5 body armor, the squad immediately went into alert as they exited the vehicle.

They kept a wary eye on their surroundings with a threatening air.

The vehicle projected a restricted-access line, aiming taser cannons as if to say they’d use force if anyone crossed the line.

A red cross logo was painted on their arms and vehicles, with white letters inside the cross that read:

D4C

Dangerous & Difficult & Dirty Deeds For Cost

They were prepared to handle dangerous, tough, and dirty jobs—as long as the pay was enough.

It might sound like a shady business, but surprisingly, this company was a medical organization.

Information was automatically relayed the moment a client’s life was in danger, and if they failed to arrive within three minutes of receiving a call, they offered a 10% refund for every extra minute.

It was a service that most explorers, who risked their lives daily, rarely had the chance to encounter.

“I never thought I’d live to see D4C come to a dungeon.”

One explorer muttered.

The others standing nearby nodded in agreement.

“Is there a top-ranked explorer dying in there or something?”

The explorers speculated among themselves, watching the D4C team.

Although they parked their vehicle right at the entrance and blocked everyone from entering the dungeon, no one dared to complain.

D4C might be endlessly loyal to their clients, but they were ruthlessly strict with anyone who interfered with a rescue.

In the past, there had even been a bizarre case where D4C clashed with the Horde while rescuing a terrorist being suppressed by them, resulting in both units being wiped out—a testament to D4C’s formidable force.

***

[The client’s location transmission is coming in! They’re emerging from inside the dungeon!]

Receiving the information from a networker, the squad immediately began setting up a makeshift operating room inside the escort vehicle parked at the entrance.

Soon, a group emerged from the dungeon entrance.

“Help! Please, help!”

At the front of a group of five, Amon waved his phone frantically.

Amon, who was barely holding it together, was carrying Evan, the blonde, while Tori, with his sight impaired but arms intact, was carrying the mage Paul.

Trailing behind, looking like a waddling duck, was Hale, the blue-haired one who had lost both arms.

As soon as the D4C squad cross-checked the location on the phone and confirmed they were indeed clients, they rushed over.

“This is the rescue team! We’ve confirmed four individuals in need of assistance!”

With urgency but politeness, they took the injured members into their care.

First, they took the mage Paul and blonde Evan.

“Abdominal injury detected! Report the vitals!”

“Pulse at 25! There’s AA and Perfo!”

“Immediate surgery!”

“This one’s got Speedware short-circuiting!”

“Initiate blocking and reinforcement!”

After taking the two who needed the most urgent care, they quickly moved to treat Tori and Hale, who were in less critical condition.

As soon as Amon handed over the four to the squad, he collapsed to his knees and began to retch.

“Blergh!!”

He had sprinted all the way to the mid-boss room, then fought as soon as he got there, and as soon as the battle ended, he had carried an adult out on his back, sprinting all the way.

His heart was shouting in protest, begging for mercy.

“Cough! Blergh!! Gahh!”

With a clink, some of the equipment he and his party members had brought rolled off his body as he continued to heave uncontrollably.

Expensive swords, daggers, shotguns, grenades, and so on.

The moment the mercenaries saw the items spilling from Amon, greed filled their eyes.

Most of them resisted the urge, but a few couldn’t help themselves.

‘No one’s going to notice in this chaos.’

In the confusion, a few reached out for Amon and his party members’ equipment.

At that moment—

“Take your filthy hands off, you bastard!”

One of the squad members, who had been so polite to the injured just seconds before, suddenly aimed directly at the mercenary’s forehead.

“Eek!”

The mercenary turned pale and quickly melted back into the crowd.

As the squad member gestured with his chin, other members gathered the scattered equipment from the ground and carefully stored it in a case.

Retrieving the client’s assets was a standard service included during an operation, as clients’ possessions were also considered part of the rescue mission.

However, their true purpose in offering this service wasn’t purely out of love for their clients.

It was also to ensure they could seize these assets if the client was unable to pay.

In other words, by safeguarding this equipment so diligently, they were, in some cases, protecting what might become their future assets.

While the squad was rescuing the four people, the squad captain approached Amon, rubbing his hands together.

“Client, how will you be handling the payment?”

It didn’t matter if they were short on money.

They could simply repossess the implants of the patients.

And if that wasn’t enough… well, maybe they’d go as far as harvesting organs.

For this reason, D4C had earned another nickname: the Legal Scavenger.

Fortunately, Amon had enough money to afford meeting a decent rescue crew rather than scavengers.

“It’s 100,000 dollars for the four of us, right?”

“Yes. We also offer installment plans.”

“I’ll pay in full.”

Amon’s hand trembled slightly as he handed over his phone.

Though Amon had some money, 100,000 dollars wasn’t exactly a casual amount for him.

But still…

‘Life is priceless.’

Convincing himself it was a worthy expense, he boldly opened the payment app.

The captain scanned the code on the screen with his eyes and swiftly completed the payment.

Ding!

A notification arrived on Amon’s phone.

“Payment confirmed, client. We will do everything in our power to ensure the patients survive.”

The captain then verbally recited the terms of the service Amon had purchased.

The arrival time had been 2 minutes and 28 seconds, so no refund would be given.

For each patient who died, 30% of the dispatch fee per patient would be refunded.

Hospitalization would incur separate charges.

Although he felt exhausted to the point of death, Amon kept his focus and listened carefully to the terms in this world where everything felt like a scam.

Once the explanation was over, the captain briefly scanned Amon’s body with his eyes.

He then handed Amon a bottle of water and a regenerative ointment.

Amon grimaced and declined.

“I’m fine. Just take care of my teammates.”

It was his way of saying he didn’t want to pay extra fees.

The captain understood and responded with a good-natured smile.

“Water and simple ointments provided to the patient’s guardian are entirely free. If you need sugar, we also offer glucose candies. Those are free too.”

Hearing this, Amon reluctantly rinsed his mouth with the water.

When the water helped Amon regain his composure, the captain suggested he board the vehicle.

“Guardian accompaniment is a basic option.”

After confirming this was also free, Amon boarded the transport vehicle.

The vehicle carrying the two most critical patients had already departed, so Amon joined the one with the less severe cases.

The door closed, and a feeling of weightlessness washed over him.

‘Paying upfront does have its perks.’

The moment they confirmed he could pay, they became exceedingly courteous.

It was a world endlessly kind to those with money.

Yet, Amon didn’t feel particularly pleased.

While his body swayed slightly back and forth, the captain sitting next to him held out a tablet to Amon.

“Um, client…”

“Yes? What is it?”

“We’ve confirmed that you’re enrolled in our company’s premium package. This means guardians are eligible for discounts on both dispatch and hospitalization fees.”

“Oh, right.”

Only then did Amon recall that the package he’d signed up for included these benefits.

In this world, where getting shot on the street was a daily occurrence, signing up with D4C was common sense if you had money.

As soon as he acquired some funds, it was the first premium package he signed up for, alongside Sonia.

“Please apply the discount, then.”

“Understood. Also, since this is your first time using our service…”

The captain adjusted the tablet screen and cautiously extended it.

“We noticed that you used your phone to contact us this time. However, according to our internal data, clients who use the 24-hour monitoring implant have a 20% lower mortality rate than those who rely on phones…”

“I don’t want the implant.”

“Ah, we also offer compatibility with magical tattoos for those who find cyberware uncomfortable.”

“No, thank you.”

The issue wasn’t with cyberware or tattoos.

D4C was still a megacorp, after all.

Having a 24-hour monitoring implant meant they’d collect everything from personal information to biometric and magical data—something Amon would never allow.

“Then how about a smartwatch…”

“I’m fine.”

Even after this, the captain persistently offered Amon various products.

Despite patients clinging to life right beside them, he insisted on pitching products.

‘This damned cyberpunk world.’

Of course, he understood.

From D4C’s perspective, the captain was just another cog in the machine, driven to meet his sales targets.

Yet, Amon couldn’t help but feel a creeping misanthropy.

***

Amon arrived at the hospital in three minutes.

During the ride, every conversation with the captain had been about products.

There was no warm talk about how the patients would be okay or asking if Amon was in any discomfort.

It was as if he was saying, “You paid, and we’ll deliver the service accordingly.”

The detachment of these individuals, who disregarded human life, left Amon filled with revulsion.

Far from feeling superior due to his financial means, he felt stifled by the bleakness of it all.

But amidst this bleakness, Amon held on to his gratitude.

“Thank you.”

It was rare to hear a word of thanks in this world.

Although he’d paid a hefty sum for this service, he acknowledged that they were still his benefactors.

Amon bowed his head in gratitude to the squad members.

“Thanks to you, we survived.”

The squad members paused momentarily at his words.

Because of the dark visors, their expressions were hidden.

Even the captain, the only one without a visor, stared at Amon, looking somewhat dazed, before he suddenly bit his lip.

He briefly turned off the camera on his chest and spoke.

“The patients will be fine.”

“Thank you once again.”

Amon bowed to them once more and headed into the hospital.