Having finished his business with Rudolson, Li Qingyu entered the Mid-Hive. After changing trains several times and passing through a series of airtight doors, he headed for the "Two Snakes" clinic.
"Ah, ever since they launched the synth-starch factory, my family hasn't seen any normal vegetables for a week!" someone complained in the crowd. "Every day we eat this tasteless crap, no joy in life!"
"Be thankful there's food. I heard there are layoffs coming at the factory. And without work, you can't pay taxes, and hello – exile to the Lower Hive."
"My brother was exiled down there recently. Is he even alive there?..."
Listening to these conversations, Li Qingyu shook his head. In the year 117, this level of discontent would have long led to a riot. If some Chaos cultist suddenly appeared with a sermon, a rebellion would be guaranteed.
However, it wasn't his business. Pulling his hood deeper, he quickened his pace.
As soon as he passed, a shady character emerged from an alley, grabbed the complaining passerby by the sleeve, and whispered:
"Sir, do you know why we are starving? Do you know why we are suffering? Have you heard of the God of Abundance?..."
Upon reaching the "Two Snakes" clinic, Li Qingyu pushed the door open without knocking and immediately almost jumped back, startled by a wild scream.
A man was tied to the operating table. Doctor Two Snakes, wielding either a chainsaw or a scalpel, was hacking at the poor fellow, splattering blood everywhere.
Looking closer, Li Qingyu understood what was happening: the patient was missing the thumbs on his right hand, and the doctor was trying to attach mechanical prosthetics.
In Li Qingyu's opinion, the metal things looked pathetic – no better than pirate hooks. It was doubtful these claws would restore functionality to the hand.
After half an hour of work, the doctor attached the fingers and began to untie the patient.
"Done, fingers are in place. Don't forget to take your antibiotics."
"If you miss your monthly loan payment within the next fifteen years, your job and housing will become my property."
"And now get out! Damn it, did you shit yourself? Ugh, what a stench! I'll add cleaning to the bill!"
The patient, who had undergone surgery without anesthesia, was as pale as death and could barely stand. The doctor pushed him out the door, and Li Qingyu seriously worried if the poor fellow would die on the way home.
Wiping his bloody hands and not even bothering to wash the table, Doctor Two Snakes turned to Li Qingyu with a smile.
"Oh, my precious elite client! What brings you here? A headache, a fever? Lie down, I'll open your skull and see where it hurts."
Li Qingyu shook his head.
"Let's get straight to the point. I'm afraid if we just chat, I'll get a bill for 5670 credits at the end."
The doctor slammed the table indignantly.
"Precious client, who do you take me for?! How can you be so cheap! For a simple psychological consultation, you need to add a zero to that amount!"
Rolling his eyes, Li Qingyu took ten 500-milliliter bottles from his backpack and placed them on the table. This was medical alcohol, obtained through multiple distillations. In theory, distillation could achieve almost 100% purity, but for disinfection, a range of 75-80% was best. To control the quality, Li Qingyu even used Warp vision, observing the molecular structure of the alcohol on an astral level.
Seeing the bottles, Doctor Two Snakes beamed.
"Almighty Emperor, precious client, you actually got the alcohol!"
He snatched a hydrometer from a drawer, dripped some liquid from an opened bottle – the purity was perfect. After carefully checking each of the ten containers, he shouted:
"Oh, my elite supplier! I'll pay immediately! That's five hundred credits!"
He reached for the bottles, but Li Qingyu intercepted them.
"No. The price is not acceptable. We will renegotiate the terms."
The doctor froze, then screamed as if he had seen a demon:
"What?! You want to raise the price?! Damn it, you're definitely a heretic! Your words are corrupting my holy soul!"
Li Qingyu silently began to gather the bottles back into his backpack.
"Well, goodbye, holy man. If that's the case, I'll go to others."
The doctor's face instantly changed. He rushed to block Li Qingyu's path:
"No! Absolutely not! We can negotiate!"
"What is it, holy father?" Li Qingyu smirked. "Aren't you afraid my dirty, cold alcohol will defile your abode?"
The doctor put on a solemn face.
"Dirty cold alcohol, after conversion, turns into warm gold coins. Let's sit down and discuss the price civilizedly."
Chuckling, Li Qingyu sat down at the table. The doctor busily poured him a cup of tea – though there were hardly any tea leaves floating in it. The man with the huge hooked nose sat opposite and rubbed his hands with a foxy smile.
"So, my precious guest, by how much do you want to multiply the sum?"
Li Qingyu showed four fingers.
"What?! Four times?! Impossible!"
Li Qingyu crossed his arms, looking at this cosmic squid.
"From now on, I'm selling you medical alcohol for forty credits per hundred milliliters. And don't try to haggle. Not a credit less!"
The doctor jumped with anger, ranting about expenses, friendship, and saving lives. When Li Qingyu got tired of it, he slammed the table:
"Enough! If you were really saving people, I might have lowered the price. But you, you blood-sucking merchant, don't pretend to be righteous! Get lost!"
The doctor rubbed his hands again, putting on a mask of submission. He bent over so much that his hooked nose almost touched Li Qingyu's chest.
"And if I start saving people right this second, will you give me a discount?"
Li Qingyu was speechless at such audacity. He silently picked up his backpack and headed for the exit. Was this ghoul casting buffs on himself?!