“Well, if it isn’t our dear Lord Karl—what are you up to?”

“Cut it out, Oliver. Just checking something.”

It was the morning after Karl had finalized his official identity. He had just booted up his computer and connected to Night City’s local net when the unusually early-rising Oliver floated in from the kitchen and leaned in beside him.

“What are you looking at?”

V, also up early, came out of the kitchen carrying a plate—some sausages packed from last night’s Arasaka banquet, along with homemade toast and a fried egg. He set the plate beside Karl.

“Still thinking about yesterday’s stuff?”

“Nope. I wrapped that up last night.”

Karl’s eyes skimmed across the screen until they landed on a particular interface. “I’m looking into something we talked about before.”

“Lemme see.”

Oliver leaned over the back of the couch and peered at the glass coffee table where Karl’s laptop was set. “Is that… Trauma Team?”

“Yeah. Trauma Team.”

Karl’s gaze moved to the membership registration page, which detailed plan options. Success stories and rescue case studies popped up as he scrolled.

“Trauma Team offers short-term subscription packages—as little as 24 hours. We talked about trying it before. Sure, subscribing means they implant a tracker and biosensor, but for dangerous jobs, we could temporarily sign up for coverage, then remove the implant when we’re done.”

“So using Trauma Team like a mercenary insurance plan?”

Oliver had actually suggested the idea a while back. Hearing Karl say it out loud again, he nodded in approval.

“Short-term plans aren’t too expensive. We could even go for a premium tier—those guys will go toe-to-toe with Death to pull you out. And since it’s only temporary, the cost is manageable. High-risk gigs can easily cover the expense.”

“Being alive is worth more than anything.”

V came back over with breakfast for himself and Oliver. “I read somewhere that Trauma Team’s even gone head-to-head with corpos before. One story talked about Militech and Arasaka employees both being rescued, and their Trauma Team units ended up shooting at each other just to protect their clients.”

“From the Corpo Wars, right?”

Oliver, who had once dreamed of joining Trauma Team, knew the story. And the aftermath.

“After that case, some Arasaka and Militech personnel started faking injuries just to summon Trauma Team for backup. It almost crippled the company. Eventually, they had to announce a suspension of service for both corps.”

He shook his head with a sigh.

“Their policies are way too strict. Sure, it sounds noble—loyal to the mission—but in the end, they treat people like machines. Once I learned the truth, I dropped that childhood dream real fast.”

“That was a long time ago.”

Karl scrolled through more plan options. “They’re more flexible now. Trauma Team still takes Arasaka and Militech clients, just not in bulk. Each one goes through a risk assessment now.

“I checked out their braindance content, too. Any time they take a job involving Arasaka or Militech, there’s a danger-rating system in place. If it’s too risky, they won’t fight—they’ll just grab the client and run.”

“Workarounds to policies. Classic corpo play.”

Oliver chuckled, watching Karl pull up the payment screen.

“Once you pay, a drone delivers a chip with your tracking and biosignal monitor. Just plug it in and you’re covered.”

Karl read aloud from the terms, then turned to Oliver. “Wanna try it out?”

“What, I’m the guinea pig now?”

“Not quite. But you’re the only licensed medic we’ve got. Makes sense to test the medical side of things.”

Oliver shrugged. “Fair enough.”

He placed a hand on the sofa and vaulted over it instead of walking around, scooting beside Karl.

“Move over. It’s my turn now.”

“After you, dear doctor.”

To get back at Oliver for calling him “rich boy” the day before, Karl spoke with exaggerated politeness, laying the sarcasm on thick.

“If you know I’m important, then move faster.”

Oliver wasn’t phased. He raised his chin dramatically. “The good doctor is now here to assess your medical coverage.”

“As long as you’re having fun.”

Watching the banter unfold, V rolled his eyes but couldn’t help being curious himself. He sat beside them, eating his breakfast while keeping an eye on Oliver’s screen as he reviewed plans and prices.

Oliver was quick. Just as Jack stumbled out yawning, he caught the tail end of a complaint:

“Wait a minute—when Karl wasn’t logged in, this plan wasn’t that expensive. Why is it more now that I’m logged in? They charge extra based on identity?”

“Long-term plans are the same.”

V pointed to the relevant numbers. “Those didn’t change. Only the short-term plans got pricier once you logged in.”

“What are you guys looking at? Trauma Team?”

Jack, now clearly influenced by Karl’s disregard for proper stair usage, jumped straight from the second floor. He landed behind the couch, peering over Oliver’s shoulder.

After catching up, he nodded. “That makes sense. I know someone in Valentinos who subscribed. Trauma Team flags high-risk individuals and gang members. To prevent damage during short-term contracts, they jack up the price for certain backgrounds.”

“In other words, they don’t want us going full psycho during our 24-hour window. They’d rather push us into long-term packages with full-time surveillance.”

Oliver groaned. “Of course the corpos thought of everything. Their profit game is airtight.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Karl nodded. “Still, the price isn’t bad. Just means we need to pick jobs carefully. I thought we could keep a subscription on standby, but now it’s clear—it’s only worth it for high-risk ops.”

Just as he said that, his phone rang.

Karl usually only got alerts for important contacts—he’d set his phone that way.

The rest of the crew looked over at the same time.

The name on the screen was:

Maine.

–

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🔥 Cyberpunk: The Relentless

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep