Cyberpunk - Badland Madman [Cyberpunk 2077] Chapter 10 - The Debt, Judy's Test, Misty's Peace & Tinkerin

The low hum of machines and a few evenly spaced beeps breached Cypher's ears. The muffled sounds slowly turned into gibberish, and then fully understandable speech. The last thing he rembered was blacking out to Judy arriving.

Slls like… dicine.

He slowly opened his eyes only to be blinded by all the bright white lights. It was a hospital alright, futuristic to look at with all those machines working. The room was ordinary, however, only the lights and the light patterns on the wall reminded him that this was Night City.

"The doctor will be with you in a mont, Mr. Blackwell."

Cypher turned his head sharply towards the sound, but only found a smiling bust of a robot on the table, its eyes glowing warm green, a red cross painted on its chest. Probably so kind of low-level AI to monitor patients, he reckoned.

Just as the robot had said, the door slid open with a gentle hissing sound. A bald old man entered, wearing a very sleek-looking white coat over a simpler-looking black suit. The thing to notice was the man's left eye, which was a cyberware, glowing blue; no lids, and just a protruding eyeball. It even had sleek wire lines going along the forehead to the back.

"Good morning, Mr. Blackwell. I'm Doctor Haytham Kembly, assigned to your case. I handled the extraction of the round that penetrated your left lung. There's no cause for concern. The Trauma Team delivered you here within ten minutes of the alert. Your recovery is nearly complete, and you are cleared for discharge this evening. Stay on the prescribed dication, and you should be able to walk and run again in two days."

My lung?

Cypher raised his head to look down at himself, ignoring the corpo-speak of the professional doctor. Other than discomfort, he felt nothing. He had to give it to Cyberpunk. They'd gotten nearly everything wrong, but in terms of dical advancents, things were preem, as the people say.

"Gotcha, doc. Guess my lady friend headed to work, huh? Think you can let her know I'm awake?"

"It's already been done, Mr. Blackwell," replied the small robot beside his bed.

"If there's nothing else, I'll take my leave. Thank you for choosing the Trauma Team," the doctor gave a very corpo-like answer and left as stiffly as he walked inside.

Alone again, well almost, Cypher relaxed on the highly comfortable bed, staring at the ceiling, and then out of the window, where he could see a few Trauma Team AVs flying around. It was so surreal yet real.

Digesting what had transpired last night, he sighed. He didn't regret it, and he surprisingly didn't feel scared. Dying… didn't scare him much. Rather, he felt angry that he didn't do better and got shot.

"Hey, robot?"

"Mr. Blackwell, you may address as Trauma Tom or simply Tom. How may I assist you?"

"Tom…" Cypher felt more scared of asking this question. More than dying and getting shot. "What's the bill?"

"As of this mont, your total bill is fifty-eight thousand eurodollars."

"..."

Cypher's brain automatically multiplied it by two and got the US dollar equivalent. It made sense, however. He didn't have a Trauma Team coverage, so it was probably purchased for an ergency, and even that was likely the lowest tier. He didn't know what was covered under that, but clearly, taking a bullet out of him wasn't on it.

He whispered and coughed like a dumbass. "Living the Arican dream, huh? dical bankruptcy, magical. Hey Tom, you think I can flip that into an EMI or sothing?"

"Of course, Mr. Blackwell. Please specify the duration you prefer. We offer three, five, and ten-year plans at eighteen, twenty-five, and thirty percent interest, respectively. We also provide extended coverage, including a twenty-five-year option at fifty percent interest."

"..."

"Say… What if I don't pay?"

"Mr. Blackwell, failure to settle your charges will lead to consequences. Trauma Team International follows strict financial protocols. Should all internal asures be exhausted, your outstanding debt will be assigned to an external collection entity."

So gears ran in his head, and Cypher ca to a conclusion right away. "Let guess, Scavs? Yeah, figures. They'd just snag , chop up, and sell off my body parts so they get their money back."

Of course, the little fucker didn't respond to that. But that silence was enough for an answer.

Cypher wasn't that bad at so simple calculations. He could get the rough figure in his head. If he took a three-year EMI, then he'd be paying roughly over two thousand each month, and a total interest of twenty-five thousand. But it was going to be heavy on his pocket, as good BD runs won't last forever.

"Tom, so say I grab the five-year plan, yeah? And later, I co up with enough money to pay the whole thing off in a year, what goes down then?" He asked because he knew this was Night City and things couldn't be so simple.

"An excellent selection and inquiry, Mr. Blackwell. Once a plan is chosen, adherence is required regardless of your paynt tiline. For the five-year plan, even if you have funds available tomorrow, the full principal and accumulated interest are due, totaling one hundred and one thousand and sixty-two eurodollars."

"Fuck! I knew it!" He cursed loudly; he had to at that. "Fine, give the five-year deal. I'll make it big in Night City, or I'm killing every damn Scav that cos for ."

"Fantastic choice, Mr. Blackwell. I will finalize this."

"So you are going to sell to Scavs?"

"I made no such assertion, Mr. Blackwell."

"Really?" Cypher eyed the small robot bust on the table. "Get your ass outta here."

"I am a machine, Sir. I do not have an ass."

"Sure got sass, though."

Right then, he received a notification in his vision. He didn't have Kiroshi optics or anything, just simple stuff that flashed images right onto his retina. That allowed him to see information and make calls with the neural link.

The new notification ca from the Trauma Team, detailing his EMI package. It appeared that Judy had paid five hundred for him to get the Full Body Life Coverage. But in that package, he was charged a hundred eddies every minute until he arrived at the hospital. Thankfully, there was no ammunition used, or equipnt damaged, or else that would have been charged to him as well.

Ugh… Gotta get my shit together.

"Tom, wake up when soone enters."

"Understood, Mr. Blackwell."

####

Lake Farm, Cypher's House,

"Ain't liking this. Door's smoked, wheels tore up the dirt. AV scorch marks, too. Our boys got no Trauma Team watching their backs."

"Nash, look! Those tracks roll right into the damn water!"

Tall, brute-looking Nash eyed the surroundings again, noticing the motorbike still at the front, parked. Having already seen the insides of the house, he could imagine what had happened.

"Our boys are dead. Bet Cypher flatlined them. Leadhead always had razor aim. Go to the Trauma Team Tower and nose around for him. Won't be hard." Nash ordered the team of five raffens he led.

"That BD junkie's grown a spine. Just gotta break it, or yank it clean out. Gotta be worth sothing."

####

Judy was the unstable, emotional type, soone who felt responsible for those around her, and if sothing happened, she would feel deeply upset. It didn't make sense to Cypher why she even bothered with a brain potato like him. He was just a BD custor who let her use his place for the dives.

But for whatever reason, she cared enough to grab him from the hospital and, instead of letting him head ho, dragged him to her place in Kabuki. In her words, going ho to Lake Farm was suicide.

"Eight thousand to the raffens? Seriously?" Judy's voice spiked as she kept walking in tight circles, arms clamped across her chest, eyeing Cypher on her couch. "Gonk move. You could've pinged . I'd have hooked you up with soone legit."

"Eh, all in the past. Doesn't even stack up to the debt I got with Trauma Team. Being tied to a corpo feels worse. I can duck raffens if I have to, but a corpo? They don't let go."

Judy flinched at that and stopped moving. She stared at him with concern. "H-How much… with the Trauma Team? Sorry, Cyph, my brain just blanked. You were bleeding out all over the place. If I'd driven you—"

"Hey!" Cypher pushed himself up with a loud, tired groan and clapped her shoulder firmly. "You saved my damn life, Judy. I don't got a single complaint. It's just a hundred big ones, and I got a solid deal to pay it off in five years."

Judy's face paled. "A hundred thousand? That's… Fine, fine, you got ti. But the raffens? They won't give you five years. They'll be on your tail way sooner."

"Them…" Pondering deeply, he tiredly sank back on the couch. "Yeah, I know those guys. The ones I grabbed the glitter from worked for Nash, so wannabe Wraith hotshot. Had like eight little cockroaches running around for him, guess it's five now. Shitheads used to call every ti they needed soone who could actually drive fast or shoot straight because they sure weren't worth a damn. So yeah. I'll just kill them all."

"..."

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