Enforcer Manual
Chapter 247: When Professionals meet - 1

Chapter 247: Chapter 247: When Professionals meet - 1

"Hey, buddy, you saw that I barely touched her, and she turned out like this!"

The guard, apparently not accustomed to such a spectacle, hurriedly addressed Song Lan.

Surprised at the use of "buddy", Song Lan was taken aback; he had not expected that, other than himself, someone else in the world would so adeptly use the tactic of "finding a buddy in times of trouble".

Facing the guard’s plea for help, Song Lan responded with a perplexed look, declining the request for assistance, "I don’t know anything, don’t ask me."

"Damn!"

After hesitating on the spot for quite some time, and noticing that many people in the waiting room were looking their way, the guard could only curse at the girl convulsing on the ground, rolling her eyes back, "You’re tough."

Having said that, he left the scene as nervously as a criminal.

He feared being tricked by the girl more than having his salary docked by his boss. Her acting was too realistic; not only was her convulsion all too natural, but now she had also started frothing at the mouth.

It was said that law enforcement had become much stricter than before; if things went wrong, he could end up in jail.

"That’s enough, the guard’s gone."

Seeing the guard leave, Song Lan spoke to the still-twitching girl.

With less than an hour to return, he just wanted to quietly watch Old Six and the others vie for power and while away the time.

He admitted her acting was impressive; sudden crippling illnesses like this were not something ordinary people could fake. He even considered recommending her to work at Kolo Film and Television Media—certainly a better job than faking seizures and tricking people in the seventeenth district.

However, the girl lying on the ground did not respond. Her convulsions decreased in frequency and magnitude, but the foam coming out of her mouth kept increasing. The traces of her pretty pale blue pupils had disappeared, her eyeballs now filled with red.

"Hey, are you alright?"

This time, it was Song Lan’s turn to panic.

He had indeed seen that the guard had only lightly grabbed the girl’s arm, without any acts deemed as an attack, leading him to believe—like the guard’s intuition—that the girl was faking a seizure to avoid being caught with weapons in the store.

"Let me make it clear, I have no money."

The girl on the ground still offered no response, her convulsions completely stopping as her chest slowly ceased rising and falling, until she was only exhaling without inhaling.

"What are you waiting for, come give a hand!"

As Song Lan hesitated whether to take her to the nearest prosthetic hospital, an old man suddenly surged out of his seat, pressing on her chest, attempting to perform CPR several times.

The rescue was quickly effective; although she showed no signs of waking up, her near-stopped breathing was fortunately revived.

"It’s an implant problem, she must be taken to the hospital immediately!"

The old man shouted, yelling at Song Lan, "I am a Prosthetic Doctor, you stay here to explain the situation to the Law Enforcers when they arrive, I will take her to my clinic first."

Even though the situation was indeed urgent, Song Lan’s senses sharpened as he noticed something was not quite right.

He believed that the old man, who appeared out of nowhere, could indeed be a Prosthetic Doctor, but the look in the man’s eyes towards the girl was just too strange. Even as he tried to suppress it, he could not hide the greed within.

He felt that he must have spent too much time with Lu Xiang, learning her Conan-like powers of observation.

So, Song Lan kept his guard up, asking, "Are you going alone?"

"My clinic is nearby. The Law Enforcers won’t take long to get here; someone has to stay to explain things."

The old man’s tone was urgent, making no effort to hide his desire to get Song Lan out of the way.

"Okay, then I’ll help you get her into the car."

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

The old man was visibly delighted, clearly not skilled at pretense and acting; the kind of person who wears emotions on their face probably wouldn’t even qualify as an extra.

The old man’s van was parked not far from the entrance to the weapons store; due to its age, the originally white van had turned grey, adorned with dated Rebel Clan graffiti popular two or three decades ago.

Song Lan helped get the girl onto the back seat, where the temperature inside the van was surprisingly low, and there was a faint smell of frozen meat.

In a city where no restaurants existed and all food supplies were airfreighted, the smell of frozen meat was not something one could encounter just anywhere.

"Okay, we shouldn’t delay; I must take her to my clinic for emergency treatment immediately."

Hearing the back door of the van shut, the old man floored the accelerator, barging onto the highway. His barbaric maneuver caused a series of sharp screeching brakes, followed by curses from other drivers.

The van had long since outpaced the curses thrown its way.

The old man could no longer hide the excitement in his heart, his eyes were red with it.

Military-grade prosthetics!

This young girl was equipped with a whole body of military-grade prosthetics!

Even if he sold each piece as a research sample, the money he’d make would be enough for him to squander for the rest of his life!

The likely cause of her sudden convulsions and fainting was a rejection reaction between her neural feedback system and her operating system; it was a miracle she hadn’t gone mad with so many military-grade prosthetics installed.

This sort of problem wasn’t something a half-qualified practitioner without a proper prosthetic doctor’s license could handle; he was certain that even if he took her to a major hospital, the doctors there would be helpless to treat such symptoms.

Luckily, he had never intended to save the girl from the start.

How could he dismantle and sell all her prosthetics if she were alive?

The old man dialed a number, and after a few rings, it connected.

"Hello? The usual place, come right over, I’ve got some high-quality goods this time!"

"What? How could I possibly fool you?"

"Military-grade, and not just one!"

...

The call was disconnected.

The old man was completely immersed in joy, the thought of the good life to come made him want to play a rock song.

"So, it’s military-grade prosthetics."

A moment of realization came from the back of the car.

"Exactly, I suspected it when I saw her in the waiting room. Those eyes must be military-grade prosthetic eyes, the kind with a tracking system!"

After this comment, the van fell into a long silence.

The old man looked into the rear-view mirror, and the sudden appearance of Song Lan in the backseat scared him out of his wits, his joy instantly replaced by terror, "You, when did you get on the car! I warn you, I know people on the inside; if you dare lay a hand on me, they won’t let you off!"

Even his threats came with the retro and signature touch of a minor character from twenty or thirty years ago.

According to Song Lan’s experience, those who said such things usually had a grim future.

"I owe you an apology, I misunderstood you earlier. When you came out of the weapon shop, I thought you were some old lecher."

Song Lan sincerely apologized for judging people by their appearance, "I didn’t expect you were actually planning to dismantle her prosthetics and sell them."

"...How about this, we can share the spoils. Once these prosthetics are sold, I’ll give you 10%."

The old man said.

That was what he said, but once his friends from the inside arrived, who was to say how they would deal with this meddlesome bystander?

"Actually, I’m also a novice prosthetic doctor, and I’m currently conducting a study."

Considering the night he had spent training at the Rainforest Prosthesis Hospital with Elmon, Song Lan felt there was nothing wrong with his claim.

"Oh? Then we’re colleagues. Which area are you researching?"

To stabilize Song Lan’s emotions, the old man followed his lead with the question.

"The focus is on the fusion of scalpels and the human buttocks."

"Hahaha, there’s such a nonsensical study?"

"The good news is, my research was completed just a moment ago."

The van was once again enveloped in deathly silence.

The old man turned his head slightly, catching a glimpse of the seat, which he only now realized was stained red with blood.

A piercing sound of tires scraping, and the van rammed straight into a telephone pole at the side of the road.