Players Invade Cyberpunk

Chapter 1322: Chapter 429: Mine Is Huge, Bear With It (Part 2)

Just like this, the salaries and income of their doctors are more than ten times that of their Tokyo University counterparts at the same level, and there’s no need to worry about medical disturbances, as the hospital keeps a bunch of official thugs ready to tear you apart and sell you if you dare cause trouble.

Otherwise, the residents wouldn’t be envious either, because their salaries could be over a hundred times that of a small resident.

And this is just the tip of the iceberg of the entire Europe and America medical system, not to mention the insurance system, their systemic exploitation of all social strata has reached a staggering level.

And as one of the exploited groups, the soldiers are long used to it.

Because the world is just like this, there’s nothing worth being surprised about.

When this incident happened, no one wanted to continue fighting, everyone was ready to grab their plates and get more food, but the Henan chef player wouldn’t have it.

He looked coldly at the French prisoner of war in front of him who was ready for a meal and said,

"Pick it up."

"Huh?"

The prisoner looked baffled, and the Henan player stressed again,

"Pick it up! I told you to pick up the bread! That’s what you’re eating today, and if you don’t clean the canteen, don’t expect dinner tonight."

"But...."

In the canteen, the chef is the boss, daring to dump food in front of him means you’re looking for trouble!

The French prisoner of war hadn’t reacted yet, while the Cuban prisoner of war who had already eaten was already making a run for it.

Only the other three nations’ prisoners of war remained in the canteen, wanting to cry without tears.

"It’s all you French’s fault! Making us go hungry."

"If it weren’t for you beasts shooting flares over our heads to draw in the Horizon Mercenaries, we wouldn’t have been caught here, would we?"

"That’s what you deserve, blame yourselves for not running faster than us!"

"Eat shit, you!"

The French prisoner of war grabbed the soggy meat patty from the ground and stuffed it into the other’s mouth.

"Mmm!"

————

When William woke up again, he felt his body growing weaker, as if life was slowly draining from him, a feeling that truly filled him with despair.

He had seen many comrades suddenly die in the midst of battle, and now it seemed it was his turn.

Turning his head slightly, he saw a doctor in a white coat sitting nearby watching Super Dream.

He tried to call out,

"Doctor."

No response.

"Doctor."

Still no response.

Frustrated, William clambered out of bed

"Doctor!!!"

"Huh?"

It was only then that the resident took off the Super Dream headband.

"Oh, you’re awake, how are you feeling?"

"Doctor... am I going to die."

"Of course, you’re definitely going to die."

William collapsed back on the bed, hopeless in this life, feeling completely drained.

"Doctor, can I at least send an email to my family."

At the very least, he needed to tell his family how to claim his death compensations, otherwise the company would surely deny his death in action.

"Sure, you can do that later yourself."

Seeing the doctor so agreeable, William felt somewhat comforted, so he asked further,

"Then could I ask you to send my body... no, send my ashes back to Europe?"

A body is a business; regardless of the cause of death, as long as the body remains intact, a corpse is worth between 1500 and 3000 Orokin, according to Night City rates.

"I can’t do that."

The resident outright refused the request, looking at this guy strangely, wondering why he would ask for such an odd task.

"Who knows when you’ll die, if you’re going to die, do it at home, I’m not taking the trouble to send your ashes anywhere."

"It was cardiac arrest from an overdose of excitement drugs. I’ve already removed the monitoring equipment from you, the surgery and equipment fees amount to 800 Orokin, to be deducted from your prison labor earnings."

"What?"

William was momentarily at a loss, his brain buzzing entirely.

"B-but... how could...."

He couldn’t even piece the words coming out of the resident’s mouth into a complete sentence, his entire worldview was shaken.

But the resident couldn’t care less what he was thinking,

Screw it already.

Your salary is over a hundred times mine, so what, my clinical experience is a hundred times yours!

Get a specialist appointment for just 15 bucks, just ask if you’re scared!

Though it doesn’t seem there’s much to be proud of here.

Thinking about reality, the resident himself wanted to curl up and cry, it’s truly painful!

Meanwhile, Henry in the corner of the infirmary snapped a photo of their twisted expressions.

One was the disbelief of surviving a disaster

The other was the depression over being cheap labor.

Together, they formed a perfect cinematic shot

Absolutely brilliant!

After the resident bleakly walked out of the ward, Henry caught up to him

"Doctor! Doctor!"

Stopping the departing resident,

"What’s up? Didn’t I already agree to film the whole surgery process for you?"

"Nothing else, I just wanted to ask if I can interview you again, an exclusive one at that."

Looking at the swaying camera opposite him, the resident hesitated a bit,

"You can ask whatever you want, I’m in a hurry."

Henry brought him into the corridor, pointing the camera at him.

He didn’t quite understand what 800 Orokin meant for the average person, or how much difference there was between the resident and those roadside quacks, but from the man’s earlier reaction, it seemed cheap.

But Henry was a bit surprised that he was willing to save enemy prisoners of war.

"Can you tell me why you’re willing to save a British prisoner of war? As far as I know, both Cuban civilians and you people detest what they’ve done, and many Cubans even want to cross the walls to assassinate them."

"What do you mean, why?"

The resident found the question puzzling,

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