If it were Himeko, and an injured stranger lay on the ground, she would surely spare no effort to save him, wouldn't she?
Even if killing that injured man would earn her a considerable reward.
Thinking of Himeko's actions, Washana lowered her weapon.
Whatever happened, she would save him first.
Washana stepped forward, dragged the unconscious Mobile Team Captain along, scanned the street, and ducked into a random shop with a Red Cross sign.
Anyone who dared put up a sign in Los Angeles was a licensed, legitimate medical practitioner, completely different from the unregistered staff at the Black Clinic.
In reality, most legitimate medical practitioners working in storefronts relied on Intelligent Chips for assistance and followed their guidance.
Every step was rigidly standardized. Whether mistakes might occur was anyone's guess, but if the AI said so, it had to be fine.
In this respect, the barefoot doctors at those black clinics were far more capable.
Their Remembrance Chips and Intelligent Chips were inferior to those of the respectable practitioners. Some even had to consult books-physical books were antiques fit for museums in this world.
As a direct result, the doctors at black clinics were extremely flexible in their treatments, using whatever methods could do the job.
Washana dragged the man into the hospital.
"Anyone here? There's an injured man!"
The damaged components of the Mobile Team Captain she was dragging still crackled with sparks. Two medical workers hurried over.
"String Bean, String Bean, does he have health insurance? Without health insurance, he couldn't possibly afford the medical bills."
[Scan results identify this individual as a squad captain of the Los Angeles Special Task Mobile Force. His monthly contribution is 7,200, and his medical insurance balance is sufficient to cover the costs. He also possesses substantial personal assets. Certain medications