Chapter 371.1: Authority and Duty

Gracie's Clinic.

On the white long table lay an open silver briefcase.

Inside the briefcase was a jar about half a forearm in length, filled with a dark green solution, soaking a completely transparent kidney.

It was made from an unknown flexible material, and its exquisitely detailed structure made one marvel at the level of civilization required to create such a meticulous miracle.

And this miracle, which encapsulated thousands of research outcomes, was merely a speck of dust from a glorious era that passed.

Gracie's face wore a fascinated expression as he ran his gnarled index finger over the jar, muttering to himself.

"BO-166..."

"What?"

"The code for this item..."

Gracie mused in a trance, "A bionic prosthetic from Ideal City, a gem of mechanical engineering and biology. It's the ideal replacement for biological organs, as perfect as a piece of art... Even if it's just a replica."

Every marvel from Ideal City was but a replication Federation Era.

Yet, even so, for the many survivor settlements of the Wasteland Era, these replicas remained an insurmountable chasm.

As Gracie was absorbed by the art piece before him, Ample Time was deep in thought beside him.

After watching the balding middle-aged man for a while, he suddenly spoke. "Aren't you going to ask about Edmund?"

He had heard that Edmund the Butcher, once Gracie's apprentice, had caught the eye of the Dagger Gang's boss Jeff during a surgery. He started working for the gang after that

Gracie referred him to do business, but Ample Time sent him off to the New Alliance’s prison, earning him a reward of 100 silver coins and 200 contribution points.

Ample Time did not believe that Gracie was unaware of what had happened to his apprentice.

However, when Ample Time mentioned Edmund, Gracie just smirked indifferently. "Why ask about that guy, does he have anything to do with today's trade?"

Ample Time's expression turned odd. But seeing Gracie's smirk, he suddenly understood what transpired. "... Did you do it on purpose?"

The New Alliance and the marauders were enemies. It was a well-known fact in Clearspring City.

There was no need to hide it at all. After all, the New Alliance was born from the conflict between Shelter 404 and the marauders.

Under such circumstances, the likelihood of their deal going through was less than 10%. If anyone benefited from Edmund's hospital’s closure, it was unquestionably Gracie's clinic.

Without those cheap parts, mercenaries who accidentally got blown up would have to opt for more expensive bionic prosthetics...

Can't afford it?

There's always someone who can.

Even if only one-tenth of Edmund's customers went to him, he would make a killing if he squeezed out a 500% profit from them.

The high-value bionic prosthetics were where the real profit was!

Organ harvesting from clones? That was just a cheap workaround.

"I don't understand what you're saying... But I believe in one thing, if you always walk by the river, you're bound to get wet eventually. Doing business with marauders, you either get killed by them, or you become one yourself."

"So, I only deal with safe clients, in safe places, with safe transactions." Gracie chuckled and closed the silver briefcase, sliding it into a drawer under the table.

Then, seemingly from nowhere, he produced a gilded storage box, gently placing it in front of Ample Time. "Here's 500,000 chips, count them."

The storage box neatly contained 50 black and white plastic tokens, each side adorned with a crown-like pattern.

The glossy black shine was as if brand new. There wasn’t a fingerprint or speck of dirt in sight.

Ample Time accepted the storage box and briefly counted the chips. He suddenly asked, "I'm suddenly curious, how much do you make on the flip?"

Gracie smiled faintly. "That's a trade secret. Besides, why ask me? You've made a pretty penny yourself, haven't you?"

Ample Time smiled. He didn’t deny it.

Indeed.

He sold the kidney for 500,000 chips. When converted to silver coins, it would be about 1,000,000 silver coins, The cost was only 600,000 silver coins.

Even though he found a few people to pool together the silver coins, all of them would make a significant profit after the transaction was completed.

That was far beyond what an average player could earn through missions...

Weighing the less than half a pound in his hand, Ample Time couldn't help but think to himself.

If the silver trading platform could be likened to a stock exchange, with his savings, could he be considered a shareholder of Wasteland Online?

Well... Even if just in spirit.

"If you need bionic prosthetics, you can contact me."

Gracie said with a smile. "I will, but I probably won't need to anytime soon. Recently, a batch of bionic prosthetics from Ideal City showed up in the inner city, and the prices I've heard are around 500,000 chips as well... I was wondering if that mysterious seller was you."

"I've only sold to you so far."

NPCs also engage in transactions. Ample Time didn't find it strange, just a bit curious as to who had such deep pockets.

Was it Liszt?

Or was it the nutrient paste merchant, Ditway?

Or perhaps... It might have been the Administrator...

However, it was unlikely to be the administrator.

Ample Time thought it over and couldn't quite connect that venerable man with the image of a mercenary merchant.

It wasn't that the NPC lacked business acumen, just that the character didn't quite fit. Besides, with so many talents in the New Alliance, there was no need for him to get involved personally.

"Is that so? Well, it doesn't really matter." Gracie chuckled, "I haven't signed any exclusive agreements with you, who you sell to is your business, and anyway, my clients will eventually come to me for transplants. Anything else? If not, I suggest you make a trip to the bank, carrying so many chips on you isn't a good idea, there are plenty of pickpockets in Boulder Town."

Ample Time smiled faintly.

Right... Pickpockets...

As the agility type player with the highest stats in the game, any pickpockets who could steal from him probably hadn’t been born yet.

It wasn't that he was overly confident. But really, with his skills, there was no need to be a petty thief; just joining any trading caravan or mercenary group would d. There was nothing he couldn’t get his hands on.

Putting away the box, Ample Time was about to leave. However, he thought of something and stepped in his tracks. "...Right, let's make a deal."

"What kind of deal?" Gracie raised an eyebrow.

"Next time you have competitors in business, you don't have to beat around the bush, just let me know... You know what kind of competitors I'm talking about."

The New Alliance prohibited players from privately invading settlements above neutral status, but that didn't include the dens of marauders.

Also, the criteria for defining marauders were flexible. As long as sufficient evidence was submitted to the great administrator's assistant, there was a chance to receive a legitimate bandit elimination permit, allowing them to pop off and fight whoever they wanted.

The types of evidence included, but were not limited to, video, photos, recordings, and other things like that. The assessment of the evidence would also consider the level of the enemy and the reliability of the intelligence.

If the conditions were insufficient, follow-up investigation missions were usually triggered to further verify the situation... Because so many issues were involved, it was usually a quite complex process.

However... If someone could help lock down their target, things would be much easier.

Especially since Edmund’s den had loot far exceeding that of ordinary marauders’ hideouts... It was a win-win situation for them, promoting justice and allowing them to make money.

Wasn’t it just perfect?

Looking at Ample Time, Gracie's suddenly revealed a meaningful smile. "Finally found a lucrative trade, have you?"

"But I still have to warn you, when you try to take something from the abyss, the abyss is also staring right back at you.”

Ample Time’s expression didn’t change in the slightest.

What a joke. He couldn’t die...

"You just need to tell me if you're interested."

"Of course, I'd love for you to deal with all my wayward competitors." Gracie extended his right hand with a smile. "Here's to a fruitful collaboration."

...

"What happened next?"

"Later, my friends took those homeless people to the New Alliance, where the House of Refugees welcomed them..."

In Boulder Town's small pub.

Ample Time, while sprinkling cumin brought by Old White onto skewers of grilled lizard tail, casually talked to Dori about the recent events.

Maybe because he had been stuff like that frequently lately, he found he could surprisingly tolerate weird shit like that.

Perhaps, once back in Dawn City, he could share his experiences of tasting exotic foods with Irene...

Sitting across the wooden table, Dori listened intently. Her face was filled with keen interest, her legs swinging lightly under the table. She held a brand-new pen in her right hand as she wrote briskly on a palm-sized notepad.

Although she had only been on the job for a short while and hadn't even passed the probation period, she was already displaying the demeanor and actions of a journalist.

Dori continued to ask, "Will they be any different after going there?”

"Well, hard to say," Ample Time thought for a moment. "The New Alliance also has poor people, but we give them food to keep them from starving, we teach them skills to earn a living, giving them a choice in how they want to live."

"Whether they want to integrate into our society and how to integrate is up to them. If they feel uncomfortable, they can leave, and they're welcome to return anytime."

Feeling his mouth getting a little dry, Ample Time took a huge swig of cold beer.

Watching Dori hastily taking notes, he couldn't help but tease, "It seems you've adapted well to your new life."

The corners of Dori's lips curled upwards slightly. She tossed her pen aside, leaning back in her chair and stretching comfortably. "It's alright, although it was a bit tiring at first, I found it quite interesting after getting used to it."

"I have flexible work hours, and there is no need to stay up late. I get to hear a lot of interesting gossip as well... Of course, the key point is the pay isn't bad."