Warhammer: The Time Traveler

Chapter 132 Knowledge Has Its Price (Second Update)
Glenn, the prosthetic doctor whom Chen Yu had once described as having "methods that urgently needed standardization," made a decision that left the Mann team speechless yet expected after Gloria was barely out of danger—he moved his clinic, named "Thousand Needles," along with its mountain of dubious secondhand equipment and bottles to the abandoned town almost overnight.

Faced with the questioning gazes of Mann's team, Glenn rubbed his hands together, a professional yet slightly slick smile plastered on his face, and gave a seemingly plausible reason: "Mrs. Martinez's condition is very complicated and requires continuous professional observation and meticulous care! The back-and-forth travel from the city to here is too detrimental to the patient's recovery."

"In everything I do, Glenn, I always put my patients' health first. Moving the clinic here is a testament to my sense of responsibility!"

But Mann and the others knew exactly how cunning this guy was.

They had privately mentioned to David that the reclusive "boss" possessed incredible technology, and theoretically, as long as one could afford the unimaginable cost, it wouldn't be impossible to completely heal Gloria's level of damage.

Glenn had clearly caught on to this information and wanted to use the excuse of taking care of Gloria to shamelessly stay in the abandoned town, fantasizing that he would one day run into the "boss" and then use his "tuition fees," which he had saved up for who knows how long and which might be like scrap metal in the face of truly high-end technology, to exchange for a little knowledge that would slip through his fingers.

"That old fox, he just threw abacus beads at my face." Rebecca commented bluntly, watching coldly with her arms crossed.

However, she did not forcibly kick people out.

After all, although Glenn's skills were crude and his ideas were outdated, he was still somewhat useful in dealing with common street gunshot wounds, prosthetic malfunctions, and basic maintenance, saving the team a lot of trouble running around the city.
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When Chen Yu finished the interdimensional teleportation, his footsteps, which were much heavier than when he left, and mixed with the unique sounds of metal friction and precision hydraulics, echoed once again deep in the abandoned town workshop. The external environment he perceived was now a scene that was significantly "noisier" than before he left.

The outpost not only gathered the original members of Mann's team, but also added a silent, white-haired hacker girl, an anxious teenager forced to step onto the streets to pay for his mother's medical expenses, a semi-paralyzed mother immersed in pain and self-blame, and a clumsy prosthetic doctor who joined with opportunistic intentions.

The heavy metal door of the workshop slid open slowly with a dull thud.

Chen Yu's imposing figure, noticeably larger and covered in dark red dragon-scale-shaped power armor, with a new type of plasma reactor on his back emitting a deep hum and a ghostly blue light, suddenly appeared at the doorway, almost filling the entire door frame.

In an instant, the faint sounds of conversation and activity outside the workshop came to an abrupt halt.

All eyes were involuntarily drawn to it, and a near-frozen shock filled the air. Even the veteran members of Mann's team, such as Mann and Dorio, who had already witnessed the inhuman nature of this "boss," still had their pupils slightly constricted at this moment.

They could intuitively feel the immense power contained within that body, far exceeding anything they had ever experienced before, as well as the almost tangible, cold, and inhuman sense of oppression.

The complexity and craftsmanship of that armor completely exceeded their understanding of "cyborgs" or "exoskeletons".

Rebecca instinctively opened her mouth, her green prosthetic eye quickly focusing and then slightly defocusing, ultimately only managing a soft muttered, "Wow..."

Even she felt a sense of awe that was hard to describe.

The newcomer, Lucy, tensed up almost imperceptibly for a moment. Her eyes, usually hidden behind indifference, widened slightly as her gaze swept quickly over the armor, which exuded an otherworldly beauty and absolute power, as well as the energy core that steadily emitted a ghostly blue light. A hint of pure curiosity about the unknown creation flashed in her eyes.

David, the young man who had just arrived in this place, was so overwhelmed by this invisible pressure that he almost forgot to breathe.

As he gazed at the steel giant that seemed to have stepped out of an ancient myth, the crimson optical lens swept across it, and he felt as if some supreme being had seen right through him, inside and out. A shiver, a mixture of fear and a sense of insignificance, rose up from his spine.

Even Glenn, who was struggling with tuition fees, temporarily forgot his predicament. His mouth opened unconsciously, and his instinct as a prosthetic doctor (albeit a clumsy one) made him try to understand the technical principles of the armor. But in the end, his mind went blank, leaving only the most primitive amazement and bewilderment.

Chen Yu's crimson optical lens calmly swept across the workshop's exterior, like a highly efficient scanner, instantly capturing, categorizing, and archiving all these newly added "variables" and the frozen expressions of shock on their faces. The chaotic scene and emotional fluctuations before him caused a faint warning signal, representing an "increased degree of environmental disorder," to flash through his processing core, but it was immediately overridden by a higher-level logical process—these biological emotional reactions and visual disturbances were not worth wasting his precious computing resources on.

Glenn practically scrambled forward, his face plastered with fawning and barely suppressed desire, rambling incoherently about his longing to "further his studies" and his willingness to pay "reasonable tuition."

Chen Yu's crimson optical lens didn't even focus on him; a cold data list was projected directly onto Glenn's visual interface, accompanied by a monotone synthesized voice: "Knowledge has its price."

The list is clearly presented:

Basic neural interface standardized implantation specifications - in exchange for: 2 fully functional, unregistered prototype neural processors
Anti-infection treatment procedure at the junction of biological tissue and prosthetic body - Exchange: Unknown alloy sample with abnormal biocompatibility (not less than 1 kg)

Intermediate Trauma Emergency Treatment and Temporary Organ Preservation Protocol - In exchange: a well-preserved limbic system tissue sample from an individual with severe cyberpsychosis.
……

There were more than a dozen items in total, all of which were technologies Glenn had been dreaming of that could significantly improve his clinic's level and income, but the items required for each one made his heart sink.

These are not standard goods that can be bought directly with money, but rather "special materials" that can only be obtained by delving into the heart of the black market, venturing into forbidden zones, or from certain dangerous forces.

Glenn's mind raced as he calculated how many secret channels he would need to open, how much danger he would have to risk to obtain these items, and how much money they would ultimately cost in euros.

A rough calculation shows that the "cost" of just meeting this list is about 500,000 euros, not to mention the huge risks involved that cannot be measured in monetary terms.

He stood frozen in place, his lips trembling.

Knowledge is within reach, but the price he may have to gamble everything on.

It's not just about accumulating savings; it's about risking your life to collect these high-risk items of unknown origin, ultimately binding yourself completely to the chariot of this mysterious entity.

The color drained from his face instantly, his lips trembled, but he couldn't utter a single complete syllable.

He might be able to scrape together this money by emptying all his savings and selling all his equipment, but that would mean losing everything he had worked his way up in Watson District over the past decade. He might even have to take on a heavy debt and work hard for many years to pay off this "tuition fee," essentially selling himself to this mysterious figure in front of him.

He stood frozen in place, his mind in an unprecedentedly intense struggle.

His thirst for knowledge burned his reason, and the technologies on the list seemed within reach; but on the other hand, the fear of losing his freedom and being burdened with heavy shackles made his legs feel like lead.

He wanted to learn, he desperately wanted to learn, but the price was risking his entire present and future...

His expression shifted dramatically between greed and fear. His previous fervor was thwarted by the harsh reality, yet it was not completely extinguished, only transformed into a painful struggle.

“That old fox,” Rebecca said to Pila with her arms crossed, looking smug. “I think his CPU is about to burn out.”

(End of this chapter)