Night City saw gunfights every day, and death was the most commonplace thing there.
No one would grieve because a man walking along the roadside was suddenly shot dead or hit by a car--
If you didn't know the dead man, he was just a corpse. It was frightening, but not unusual in Night City.
Trauma Team was the medical corporation created for situations like this. Simply put, it was a medical giant that provided emergency response, unlike its competitors, who only offered medical services.
Obviously, in Night City, emergency response wasn't just emergency response. To a large extent, it could be equated with battlefield first aid.
To them, the customer was God. Standard-issue Smart Weapons reduced the demands on rescue personnel's combat skills, but also greatly deprived field agents of their ability to make on-the-spot decisions.
David was driving, his head buzzing a little-not because he'd been caught in an explosion, but because he'd heard Kanek's story from Lier.
What was this supposed to be?
Some things he'd learned at school suddenly came back to him:
"Company employees should embrace the company's ideals, learn its culture, embody its spirit, and make small sacrifices to ensure the company remains profitable."
He'd never understood what these "small sacrifices" looked like. He'd only instinctively felt that this kind of life was suffocating.
But now he saw that these small sacrifices were only small to the company. For the employees, they might be everything.
Everyone said that being a Corpo Dog meant a bright future. Sure, it was tiring, but the work was stable and well-paid, with plenty of hidden perks.
But now, it seemed he'd been absolutely right to leave--
Only an idiot would do that job.
David gripped the steering wheel, turning over the stories of those two Trauma Team members