Chapter 56: Chapter 54: The Plague-Entwined Hematite

The Red Ochre Tribe is a nomadic tribe belonging to the Adkaduo state, currently wandering in Evil Land outside Night City.

Since it was discovered that Red Ochre was buying things from the Six Street Gang, of course, they had to stop that. In fact, Wanderers are a very important part of Night City’s crime trade.

As Lille said, "From consumers to suppliers, all trade routes must be broken."

Now that the goods had been seized, and he’d sent word to the dealer, it was time to turn to the consumers—

You could buy, but you had to buy from them.

Of the five vehicles, three were cobbled together with intact tires from Columbus Freight, thanks to the precise targeting of intelligent weapons, sparing extra wheels, which could still be used.

After resting for a night, Lille and the other two each drove a vehicle towards Evil Land, off the highway.

Today was a sunny day, the sun glaring painfully at the eyes, which reminded Lille of the time he drove back from Atlanta.

Lille lamented, "Damn it, the sun in Evil Land..."

V immediately chimed in, "I’m telling you, anyone who drives in Evil Land for a few days would go crazy—when are you paying back my driving fee?"

Lille ignored V, looking at a small canyon in the distance with a few small tents set up and tied to the trailer to prevent them from being blown away by sandstorms.

That was the "home" of the Red Ochre.

As the unfamiliar vehicles approached, three boys walked out of the tent area, each holding a long gun, their expressions wary yet eager.

V said with interest, "Looks like they’re in a hurry, hot-tempered and impatient. I bet they’re not too happy with the Six Street Gang either, but that’s the only place they can get medicine from.

Is that it... Are there no adults? They let kids stand guard?"

Only Jack noticed that before the three men got up to greet them, they were teasing the children in the tribe.

The Wanderer families really looked shabby, but this scene made Jack feel warm inside.

Jack suddenly said, "Lille, maybe we should earn less this time... they’re not having it easy."

The vehicles stopped at the entrance of the camp.

What Jack noticed, Lille could notice too, and he knew even more.

The Qilusi Eye caught some interesting things—a tent filled with waste, Lille saw special storage containers inside.

Although there was no label, they looked similar to the packaging of the medications they had seized.

In the game, it seemed that the Red Ochre Tribe had accepted an invitation from biotechnology to collaborate in some experiment—it looked like those were the experimental drugs.

"Get out of the car and we’ll talk—things may be more complicated than we thought."

The three men got out of the car, and several delicate-looking women took the children back, as a crowd gathered from the tribe.

They wanted to make themselves look intimidating, but the scan result from the Qilusi Eye was: suspected disease.

Moreover, they were all looking for shaded places to cluster together.

"Stop! I guess you’re not Shalabi, and you’re not from the Six Street Gang either, what do you want?"

The leading young man was holding a Rostovich Needle Missile.

He wanted to look fierce, but the trembling of his hands did not escape the three observers—he was scared.

Not just him, but also the boys who followed behind, though the leader had a bit more backbone.

Quite different from city folks where a sixty-year-old could get facial implants to stay forever young.

Wanderers had no money or technology; if they looked 18 years old, they probably were just that young.

And this one was even younger—probably only fifteen or sixteen.

V sneered dismissively and walked up confidently, reciting the lines Lille had fed her:

"Tch—Rostovich DB-4 Needle Missile, Serbian-made industrial trash, a scary name but actually designed for shooting ducks.

Fire a shot, and if you’re lucky, nothing happens, unlucky, and the barrel might just pop out, rarely both barrels might even blow off.

Just one kind of Serbian-made gun works right."

V made a fist and gestured with her thumb behind her—Jack happened to turn slightly, revealing the Sadara on him.

Having said this, she stood right in front of the boy, the muzzle pointed at her abdomen, probably less than 20cm away.

She just looked at the boy, pressure mounting on him like a mountain, sweat soaking his back.

Then V gently pushed away the old-fashioned gun, "This gun’s lethality on a human body isn’t even as great as its noise. Kid, get someone who can talk."

The boy was incredibly nervous, sweat streaming down his forehead uncontrollably.

He glanced anxiously at the people behind him, and just as he was about to say something, Lille stepped forward.

"Don’t scare the customer—friend, we’re not here to cause trouble, but it seems we have some misunderstandings.

I guess this is what you need?"

He shook the medication in his hand, the light blue liquid inside the container shimmering under the sun.

"You... you guys, the Six Street Gang said you were robbers, that you stole our medicine..."

"But now it’s here, go back and find your leader, we can talk."

"Cough cough..."

Just then, a pale-faced man stepped out, heavily clothed, wearing a large sun hat, and he kept coughing, seeming as if he might stop breathing at any second.

Another me in this world—Lille thought.

Of course, this man was much older.

"Navi, step back, I will talk to them," the man walked up to Lille, standing as straight as possible, "I am Hector Crois, the Clan Leader of the Red Ochre. What do you want?"

"More precisely, what do you want?" Lille put away the medicine, "Sitting down for a talk seems more cordial, don’t you think?"

Hector nodded reluctantly. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

Normally, he should refuse the request—there’s no reason to let strangers see the Tribe’s situation.

But... just like Lille said, they had nothing left, might as well have a softer conversation.

...

Entering the tent, Hector looked even weaker—somewhat strange.

Hiding from the light outside the tent, he seemed weaker after coming in.

He was dressed very warmly, but Lille saw some light green traces around the eyes not covered by clothing, not knowing if they were tattoos.

"We’re sick, in fact, I heard from the Six Street Gang that Saint Domingo is also sick, something called γ-rabies."

Rabies?

But in this world, there are not many dogs left, only a few rich people kept them, and to put it bluntly, Wanderers don’t even deserve to be bitten by dogs.

It’s probably some new variant virus engineered from the rabies virus, a number of them were produced during corporate wars.

The world’s public database had little useful information, and viruses related to corporations could only be searched in corporate databases—need to check during the next class.

Lille stroked his chin, "I guess they also told you that the price of the medicine would increase, how much did they sell it to you for?"

Hector hesitated, but ultimately decided to tell the truth, "Eighty thousand euros for a container of the slow-release agent, the same size as the one you’re holding, it used to be just forty thousand euros.

As soon as the disease hit, those bastards doubled the price!"

One container—that is, 300ml, calling it a bottle would be more accurate.

With a dosage of 5ml per person, that’s enough for 60 people, this slow-release agent, probably could last about a week or so.

In other words, with this illness, a person would have to spend 670 euros a week on medicine, and for the people of Red Ochre, it would be 1340 euros.

Getting sick is truly costly.

"What about the vaccine?"

"The vaccine..." A trace of pain suddenly flashed across Hector’s face, "We can’t afford it."

That was a lie.

The vaccine might be more expensive than the slow-relief agent, but if they could afford the latter, claiming they couldn’t afford even a few doses of the vaccine was simply nonsense.

All of a sudden, Lille said, "You’ve signed a human trial agreement with Biotechnology, so you can’t use the vaccine."

Hector’s complexion changed drastically.

"Obviously, these two issues came together, of course, they might be related—but don’t worry, I have no interest in prying for information.

I do have some medicine here, how much money do you have on you?"

This sudden shift broke Hector’s train of thought.

The confidentiality agreement was part of the contract, luckily Lille didn’t pursue further.

And when it came to money, well, that was more complicated—the family’s people were sick, they had to spend money on medicine.

Having bought the medicine yet not getting better, instead more and more people had problems, leading to more and more unable to work.

Red Ochre wasn’t too big nor too small, having a hundred or so people, but because of this situation, people became sick off and on for over a month, and their savings were almost depleted.

"200,000, that’s all there is..."

"That’s a substantial amount, Mr. Clan Leader—seeing as it’s for the children, I’ll give you half-price on the slow-release agent, let’s call it making a new friend.

200,000 euros, the original price is for 2 containers, now I’ll give you 5 containers, plus a ’buy five, get one free,’ totaling 6 containers."

Hector was stunned by Lille’s price!

γ-rabies is a self-limiting disease; one can only rely on using more of the slow-release agent to alleviate symptoms, waiting for the body to recover.

The longer one can hold on, the greater the chance of survival, and once making it past three weeks, the probability of recovery spikes enormously!

This was what the people from Biotechnology had personally explained to him!

The medicine that would have lasted them only a week for 200,000 euros could now give them a chance to survive!

After speaking, Lille placed his hands on the table, and said casually, "You see, as friends, I have just one request: from now on, you end all cooperation with the Six Street Gang—any form of cooperation, including trade."

After finishing, he stretched out his open hand on the table, "So, friends?"

Hector, excited, grasped Lille’s hand, "Friends!"