980: Chapter 91: The Feast of Wolves 7 980: Chapter 91: The Feast of Wolves 7 In the well-known AAA ga “Cyberpunk 2077,” there is a very distinctive organization called “Trauma Team International Company,” essentially a satire of Arica’s grotesquely distorted ambulance industry.
Trauma Team—its na may not sound intimidating—but their business is “specialized in rapid dical ergency response services.” Considering Night City’s chaotic and violent environnt, this rapid response often involves snatching people away from ard factions.
As such, they are essentially specialized ard rcenaries.
For users who subscribe to Trauma Team’s services, their bills start skyrocketing at the speed of a space elevator piercing Earth’s atmosphere the mont the rescue request is made.
Such an abstract concept in the ga reflects the reality of Arica.
Anyone familiar with Arica knows that the most expensive thing there isn’t luxury goods or services—it’s the ambulance.
Many unlucky souls, after being injured, don’t first check their injuries.
Instead, they make sure to remind others: “For God’s sake, don’t call 911.”
But for the police, dealing with injuries at the scene isn’t a headache.
What’s the big deal about exorbitantly expensive ambulances?
We don’t have to pay for them.
One word: call!
However, for Burns, it’s the injured illegal immigrants in the container being shuffled into ambulances that crush his spirit.
“How many people are in the container?
Any numbers yet?”
Ambulances have been coming and going nonstop, and officers sealing off the periter from reporters have set up two barriers.
However, the exact number of injured individuals—still no solid figure.
A drug raid has reached this point, and enforcent details no longer matter.
Burns is focused on figuring out how to dodge the bla.
But he at least needs to know how big this ss really is.
“At least over a hundred.
Packed like sardines in a tin can, sir.”
Closing his eyes in pain, Burns realized this scandal would be near impossible to offload.
“What’s the situation with injuries?”
At this point, Burns’s only hope is that not too many are badly hurt.
His subordinate looked at Burns’s anxious expression, gritted his teeth, and replied:
“Six dead, more than a dozen seriously injured, most others lightly injured—quite a lot of minor injuries.
If you want, I can give a heads-up to the hospitals we’re collaborating with—too many injured individuals, nobody’s coming out of this clean.”
Boss, I can help you shoulder a little of this ss, though not much—but it’s my limit.
Burns hesitated but eventually gave an almost imperceptible nod.
Ergency departnts have communication chanisms for handling police-specific cases.
The key is that police referrals provide performance trics.
If relations aren’t maintained, future revenues could suffer.
Many mistakenly believe treatnt in Arica is free, but that’s an oversimplified misunderstanding.
Take the injured illegal immigrants in the truck container as an example—their ergency bills are covered by soone else.
The sa goes for ambulance fees.
Ergency hospitals and ambulance companies package these hard-to-collect debts and sell them off to other institutions before even treating the cases.
And these “other institutions” are no pushovers.
So have robust public relations to reclaim portions of these bad debts from governnt healthcare accounts under various excuses.
Others are adept in Financial Magic, transforming bad debts into solvable derivatives through financial instrunts.
Finally, they target the poor for paynt—but nobody really expects much out of this; it’s a low-priority endeavor.
On this profit chain, ergency departnts and ambulance companies feed off paynts from interdiary institutions.
Discounts aside, they still get to eat their fill.
Interdiaries feed off federal healthcare, local healthcare, clueless citizens, ruthless financial lobbyists, and others—technically skilled middlen taking a large bite.
There are also so fragnted small groups resorting to violent debt collection, organ trafficking, coercion—it’s not much, but they get sothing out of it.
But ultimately, one crucial point in this model is not making everyone miserable.
This is why Burns’s subordinates dare to shoulder a tiny share of the bla.
The police send performance stats your way every now and then.
Now the police are in trouble—wouldn’t you show so goodwill?
Treat the gravely injured with reckless abandon.
For minor injuries, selectively leave so unacknowledged.
Round up the disparities, and injury figures can be slashed in half.
Now that people are already dead, statistical wizardry can further reduce the total numbers.
Cops in Arica—well, that’s just how it is.
Gru may not be clean, but that doesn’t an the rest are squeaky clean either.
“Sir, the reporters have started live-streaming.
They’re accusing us of covering up the truth.”
As Burns’s head swelled with problems, a sweating officer hurried to report.
“Covering up the truth?
Are we the police, or are they the police?
A bunch of idiots!”
The lieutenant cursed furiously.
Yet, despite his mounting frustration, Burns still had to step forward and convey the police’s stance.
The Fourth Estate—isn’t it obvious?
Facing a forest of caras, Burns silently cursed these vulture-like reporters again, plastered a bureaucratic expression on his face, and began the damage control.
“Good evening, everyone.
I’m Lieutenant Burns.
Tonight’s operation was in…”
Burns rambled on without giving away any useful information.
These predators weren’t to be underestimated—they wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily.
“We’ve noticed many ambulances arriving.
Were there injuries in tonight’s operation?”
Of course there were, you idiot—you saw the ambulances pulling up, and you’re still asking?
The hell are you asking for?
“In the course of enforcent, we’ve made every effort to ensure the safety of innocent civilians.
However, as you know, this is Highway 10—accidents are unavoidable.”
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