Chapter 58: Let the Veterans Earn Gold Coins First? Say No to Workplace Hazing! (6000 words)
After listening to David's arrangement, Finch suddenly spoke:
"Speaking of which, among the irrelevant numbers the Machine has recently flagged, there's one about a judge known for his uncompromising style—Samuel Gates.
I'd like to know if the Machine has additional predictive analysis on him. Perhaps we can collaborate with him."
David quickly searched his memory for information about this judge named Samuel Gates.
After confirming there was no issue with this person, David nodded and said:
"Yes, he's a good judge, but he alone isn't enough.
We also need someone in Congress, which is why I need to talk to Eddie Morra."
Finch frowned. He'd wanted to ask for a long time—many people on David's list were effectively off the grid.
These people included individuals like McCall.
So he could understand that David was seeking out these guys who faked their deaths to strengthen the team's operational capabilities.
But the rest of the people were mostly ordinary civilians, according to the information Finch had found so far.
These ordinary people had no special qualities at all, including the seemingly disheveled, alcoholic writer Eddie Morra.
In fact, calling Eddie Morra a writer was being generous—this guy couldn't type a single word on his computer for three whole months.
He was simply a disgrace among writers.
And then Eddie, who couldn't write, always used the excuse of looking for inspiration to get drunk in bars every day.
More importantly, all his living expenses, including money for drinking, were borrowed from his ex-girlfriend under the pretense of loans.
In this situation, the manuscript he finally managed to produce would, in Finch's opinion, also be ruthlessly rejected, just like his previous attempts.
Eddie was such a failure at life—even if he joined the team, Finch didn't know what he could contribute.
He really didn't understand why David valued Eddie so highly.
Since David mentioned this person again, Finch asked the question that had been bothering him:
"This person is just a struggling writer. Is it necessary to place so much importance on him?"
Facing the skepticism, David just chuckled:
"Yes, he is indeed a struggling writer now, but what if I told you that in the future predicted by the Machine, he would become a senator?"
Senator?
Was David joking?
Or did the Machine catch a virus and provide incorrect information?
How could a struggling writer with no credentials, no connections, and no money become a senator?
Finch was highly skeptical of this claim.
In America, running for office requires substantial funding, even on paper.
Not to mention those transactions hidden beneath the surface.
Those secret deals involved not only massive amounts of money but also assassination contracts in which the High Table participated.
In such a treacherous environment, he couldn't imagine how Eddie could successfully break through among the competitors and become an influential senator.
So Finch shook his head at David, clearly disagreeing with this assessment:
"The Machine can't predict things that far into the future. What you're seeing is obviously just one possibility among many.
In my opinion, Eddie is more likely to become a homeless person on the street, barely surviving on government assistance."
Regarding Finch's reasonable rebuttal, David naturally couldn't say that this was something that would definitely happen.
Nor could he say that Eddie was the person with the fewest side effects after using NZT-48.
Eddie represented not just the identity of a senator, but also a laboratory that could supply unlimited NZT in the future.
In David's opinion, Eddie's importance was no less than that of the Machine itself.
After thinking for a moment, David explained with the most reasonable explanation:
"I don't deny that this is a low-probability event, but among the people we know, he's the one most likely to become a senator.
Moreover, with our help, this low-probability event will become a high-probability event. Let's wait and see.
Leave his matter to me.
You can first contact that judge and file lawsuits against those low-level officials who have accepted bribes from the Tarasov organization.
As long as the Tarasov organization's influence in this area can be weakened, the people of Princeton will be more likely to return to normal life."
After speaking, David slapped his forehead and added:
"Oh, right, I can also confirm that Detective Joss Carter is trustworthy.
You can also try to bring her into our team.
We need support from legitimate authorities."
Finch nodded, accepting David's explanation.
At least David hasn't made a single error so far.
Being able to successfully escape from Pushkin's heavily guarded mansion also proves that David has indeed established a connection with the Machine through some method.
Perhaps all of this was truly foreseen by the Machine?
Finch shook his head and stopped overthinking, turning instead to arrange for Reese to begin comprehensive surveillance on the judge named Samuel Gates.
He himself began investigating the cases Samuel Gates would be presiding over soon.
As for McCall, having returned to his former self, he naturally wanted to completely eliminate the remaining Tarasov operations.
Attacking the Tarasov organization only on oil smuggling and counterfeit currency was far from enough for him.
As long as his friend Terri was still in danger, he would not stop.
So after asking David for information about the Tarasov organization's dealings in illegal weapons, human trafficking, etc., he directly disappeared into the darkness.
He wanted to dismantle all of the Tarasov organization's operations one by one until he achieved 'peace of mind.'
Now he was a night avenger!
...
David, who had finished everything, wasn't as exhausted as he had been in the previous days.
Still having energy left, he even proactively asked Charon about the medical assignments for the day when he returned to the Continental Hotel.
Charon looked at David, who had one foot in the grave, with considerable confusion.
A dying person, someone with no attachments, didn't go enjoy his final days, but instead worked frantically?
This was somewhat difficult for him to understand.
However, the Continental Hotel allowed physicians to stay for free and enjoy corresponding benefits, so they naturally wouldn't support these doctors for nothing.
"Kid, I remember you have seven medical assignments left this month, right? Perfect timing—a group of assassins have gunshot wounds to their knees and need treatment.
How many you can treat in one night depends on your efficiency."
Knee injuries?
David raised an eyebrow, vaguely realizing this was probably the work of an acquaintance.
"So many patients? Can I bring backup?"
Backup?
Charon glanced at David. There were quite a few physicians who had the same idea as David.
The Continental Hotel already had a mature set of protocols for this.
"Of course you can, and if they're willing to provide medical credentials and join the Continental Hotel, you can even get extra compensation.
But as everyone knows, there's no such thing as a free lunch, and income is often accompanied by risk.
You should be very clear about this.
Whether they join the Continental Hotel or not, you will be their guarantor and have joint liability.
If they report to the relevant authorities, we will know.
Then the consequences don't need to be spelled out, right?"
David nodded to show he understood.
Seeing that David grasped the situation, Charon didn't say more and directly gave David a small slip of paper filled with room numbers.
And said:
"There are many patients tonight, and there are also quite a few physicians taking on this assignment, so how many gold coins you can ultimately earn depends entirely on your speed."
David nodded, very aware of how competitive tonight's assignment would be.
At the Continental Hotel, it doesn't matter if you have a minor injury, a serious injury, or a critical injury—as long as it's an injury and you seek a physician, the price will definitely start at one gold coin.
And this kind of gunshot wound is difficult to treat in a regular hospital because there, doctors will report the gunshot information, which will cause unnecessary complications.
So even if it costs one gold coin, assassins will choose to return to the Continental Hotel for treatment.
Therefore, this kind of straightforward gunshot wound treatment assignment has always been the most sought-after task at the Continental Hotel.
David didn't hesitate and directly sent Chase the location information, with the text "Get here ASAP."
On the other side, Chase, who received David's text message, excitedly drove somewhat tipsy directly to the Continental Hotel.
He didn't expect that David would arrange something for him right after their conversation that afternoon.
This efficiency—one could only say it's worthy of David, whom House valued.
When David did things, everyone felt confident.
When David saw the slightly flushed Chase, he immediately realized this guy had been drinking.
And he seemed unusually excited because of the alcohol.
David thought for a moment and warned Chase:
"I think I've told you about the risks.
To prevent misunderstanding, I can explain it more clearly to you now.
Next, we're going to treat gunshot wounds. Most of the patients have their patellas shot through—the difficulty isn't high, but the pressure is considerable.
As stated before, if even one patient isn't treated before dawn, then we both have to..."
David stopped speaking and made a shooting gesture with his hand at his temple.
When Chase saw this gesture, his excitement immediately evaporated as if cold water had been thrown on him.
The pressure instantly maxed out, and rationality returned to Chase.
Chase took a deep breath. So this was what life-or-death pressure felt like?
Was this the pressure David faced every day?
This feeling... it was really incredible.
He felt every cell in his body was activated.
He was now filled with anticipation from head to toe.
"Then without further delay, let's move!"
David, who had been observing Chase's performance, nodded in approval.
If Chase had shown even a hint of hesitation just now, he would have refused Chase's help.
He needed workers, yes, but he didn't need useless workers.
Fortunately, Chase, who would take over the diagnostics department in the future, indeed had nerves of steel.
He could still remain composed under life-or-death pressure.
David tossed an unopened medical mask to Chase.
"Wear it. It can prevent a lot of trouble."
Chase put on the mask as instructed, only then realizing that David himself wasn't wearing a mask.
"What about you? Aren't you wearing one?"
David smiled indifferently:
"I'm a registered physician here. They can find out my identity even if I wear a mask."
Chase didn't quite understand David's words.
But seeing that David didn't want to elaborate, Chase didn't press further.
Soon, the two arrived at the door of one of the rooms.
Here, David also ran into two other night shift physicians who were also competing for medical assignments.
When they saw the medical kits in each other's hands, both sides understood they were competing rivals.
It was just that David was closer, and his hand was already on the doorknob.
Suddenly, the night shift physician, whom David didn't recognize, squinted and smiled:
"If I were you, I wouldn't open this door."
David raised an eyebrow but didn't let go, just turned his head slightly and asked curiously:
"Why not?"
The person smiled again, but there was no hint of warmth in his eyes.
He seemed dissatisfied with David's challenge:
"Because you're new here. Isn't it right to show some respect to us veterans?
You still have plenty of time to earn gold coins, but for us, every day is one day less.
If you give up this gold coin, we'll all be good.
If you don't, the chance of an accident happening outside the Continental Hotel is very high—so high that you might not even have time to call for assistance from the Continental Hotel."
Hearing this blatant threat, Chase thought to himself that David was indeed right—this side work was really dangerous.
Even walking the halls, people would threaten you to your face.
Fortunately, he wasn't a registered physician here, and he was wearing a mask so he wouldn't be recognized.
But as for David... Chase looked at David, whose face was uncovered, with some concern.
He didn't know how David would handle this death threat.
If it were him, he would probably choose to back down first when the situation was unclear.
But David, as the person involved, completely ignored the guy's verbal threat. He clicked open the door directly and said without looking back:
"Alright. If you're not afraid of dying, just try me."
After speaking, he shut the door firmly, directly isolating the other two physicians in the corridor.
Chase didn't expect David to be such a decisive person.
Clearly in the hospital, no matter how Foreman mocked David, David still maintained a calm expression and stated his diagnosis.
It was as if Foreman wasn't worthy of David's attention.
So in his impression, David always spoke with facts and never engaged in pointless arguments driven by emotion.
But now, David actually directly challenged them back?!
This was too bold, wasn't it?
Chase looked at David, who was in front of him and had begun to assess the assassin's condition, his heart filled with admiration for a moment.
The expressions on the faces of the other two physicians who were shut outside the door were quite something.
They didn't expect that the foolproof intimidation tactic against newcomers, which had always worked, was useless!
And this newcomer was so arrogant that he even invited them to try!
This kind of situation was simply unprecedented!
How could there be such a newcomer who didn't value his life?!
Newcomers were often the easiest to intimidate. As soon as they heard they might die outside, they would respectfully give up the opportunity to earn easy gold coins.
This was also a kind of unspoken workplace rule at the Continental Hotel.
Who knew that today, this method suddenly became ineffective!
"Pete, this kid is way too arrogant. Should the two of us pool some gold coins and put a contract on him to make him disappear?"
The physician who was called Pete instantly became furious and smacked his assistant on the head:
"Are you fucking stupid!
He's a physician of the Continental Hotel. You're putting a contract on him when he hasn't violated Hotel rules?
Are you slapping the Continental Hotel in the face or are you eager to die along with me?"
The assistant rubbed his head resentfully and said:
"Then what do we do? Just let him disrespect us like that?
If this gets around, we'll lose face."
Pete sneered:
"You've been learning from me for so long, why are you still like a complete idiot, without any ability to think?
Of course, we can't just let this go!
There are many ways to ruin someone, not just putting a contract on them.
Moreover, killing someone is just the crudest method. Making someone suffer for a lifetime is the best approach.
Don't sleep tonight—wait for me at the hotel entrance!
See which hospital he's from. How dare he be so arrogant?
He is indeed the first one who dares to talk to me like this.
I want him to lose everything from head to toe. He must kneel down and hand over all his gold coins begging for my forgiveness!
Let's go, to the next room."
...
Inside the room, David and Chase had already started a minor procedure.
With Chase's assistance, the surgery progressed very smoothly.
The treatment for assassins whose knees were shot through basically involved removing the bullet and then stabilizing it with a cast to create a patellar brace.
For those who couldn't bear the pain, they were given some painkillers.
Anyway, this wasn't formal medical treatment, and no one would accuse you of overprescribing painkillers.
Some assassins even limped when walking, yet still wanted to carry out contracts.
Then give them a large dose of epinephrine to make them temporarily ignore the impact of the knee injury.
As for whether the assassin would die from an overdose of epinephrine, that was another matter.
However, David did indeed learn from their casual conversation that these assassins were hired to protect a counterfeit currency operation.
As a result, today, for some unknown reason, a guy in a suit and mask suddenly came knocking.
After shooting through their knees, he zip-tied them all together and even called the cops.
If this hadn't been intercepted by the corrupt detective they'd been bribing for years, then there probably wouldn't have been anything for David and these night shift physicians to do.
Regarding Reese's choice, David could only sigh deeply.
It seemed that Reese was completely unaware of the danger these assassins posed.
These assassins he had let go would eventually make a comeback and become new obstacles on their path forward.
He seemed to have to make Reese truly understand.
When they came to the corridor after the treatment was completed, Chase suddenly asked:
"By the way, is this line of work always so dangerous?"
David smiled, took out the gold coin with the scales embossed on it, and displayed it, saying:
"Of course. Did you think I was joking with you?
In this line of work, the rewards are high and the risks are high.
Do you see this gold coin? If you treat it as pure gold, it's not worth much.
But what this gold coin can do is beyond your imagination.
It can even buy a person's life, and it can also save a person's life.
As long as the payment you offer is generous enough, they'll even kill a sitting president for you."
Hearing David's words, Chase vaguely realized that he seemed to have come into contact with another social structure... no, it was another operating system.
If what David said was true, it would undoubtedly be a very frightening thing. The entire society would be operating under this shadow system.
"Then how can one avoid having their life purchased with this gold coin?"
"Like me, pass the medical certification and join here, and then you'll have the so-called immunity."
Of course, this immunity is only effective in most cases. Sometimes, you'll still die when you're supposed to."
Such remarks made Chase frown:
"Then if one doesn't want to continue, how can they leave?"
"For us physicians, you just need to turn in 99 gold coins and forget everything here to withdraw from the Continental Hotel."
99 coins?
Seems manageable.
If it's just small assignments like treating gunshot wounds every day, you could quickly accumulate enough to leave.
But Chase also just witnessed that these small assignments were so competitive that physicians would threaten each other.
He didn't think it would just end with some verbal sparring.
In his opinion, these guys really meant what they said.
After all, as long as there's one fewer physician, when this situation occurs again, they'll have more patients to treat and will be able to earn more gold coins.
So earning 99 coins would probably take considerable time.
And during this time, accidents could happen at any moment.
David didn't have a mask covering his face like him. It felt satisfying for David to challenge them directly just now.
But what about the potential retaliation?
Chase couldn't help but ask:
"Those two guys won't really come after you, will they? Do you need my help?
I know quite a few private security firms. As long as you pay them enough, they can provide 24-hour personal protection."
David shook his head:
"No need. It's better if they come after me.
Otherwise, their existence is always like a landmine, and it's troublesome not knowing when it will detonate."
Chase really didn't know where David got the confidence to be fearless of threats.
With David's physique that seemed like he'd collapse with a strong breeze, he probably wouldn't last one round in a street fight.
Moreover, the physiques of the two physicians across from them were clearly much more imposing than David's. By all appearances, David would be at a disadvantage.
Perhaps David was strapped for cash?
Thinking of this, Chase silently decided that he would pay to hire bodyguards to watch over David for the next few days.
After all, David was also a member of the diagnostics department and was willing to show him the ropes in this kind of environment.
As for David's earlier remark that he would die if the treatment wasn't completed, Chase now understood.
Since people were competing for this assignment, there was no such thing as not being able to complete it.
The so-called death threat was just pressure David deliberately applied to him.
David was truly putting in tremendous effort for his training.
In comparison, the money he spent on external protection was truly insignificant.
David had no idea that Chase beside him actually wanted to arrange security personnel for him. Right now, his mind was full of trying to treat as many assassins as possible before other physicians.
One must know that the next dose of targeted therapy was priced at ten gold coins.
His current savings were only this one gold coin in his hand!
Fortunately, with Chase's assistance, the two finally managed to complete treatment of eleven patients by working against time.
However, since these weren't fatal injuries, David's harvest tonight was: lifespan 0, gold coins 11.
After saying goodbye to Chase and promising to show him some assassin-specific services later, David lay exhausted on the bed and experienced the feeling of falling asleep instantly for the first time.
It was just that as dawn approached, David felt the fogginess in his head again.
It seemed that the tumor had made a comeback.
David shook his cloudy head and went out to work after washing up.
Looking somewhat dazed, he didn't notice a tail following behind him.
[Milestone: 500 Power Stones = +1 Chapter]
[Milestone: 10 Reviews = +1 Chapter]
Enjoyed this chapter? Leave a review.
20+ advanced chapters on P1treon Soulforger