SCP Corporation: Contain Bonfire-Chapter 170: The One That Got Away_1

"’Talent Grid Dismantling Ticket’ 200 points. Upon use, you can dismantle an already equipped talent..."

"’Inferior Talent Extraction Ticket’ 500 points. Three of these would be equivalent to one thousand five hundred points for a blank slate and four thousand five hundred points for a Green Talent. That’s if you’re lucky. If you have bad luck, you could spend tens of thousands of points and still not get a Green Talent – and the worst part is, there are no guarantees..."

"Sure enough, synthesis is a huge trap; no wonder most Employee Level E stay blank..."

Colin clicked his tongue. It’s no surprise that he hadn’t seen many higher-level employees discussing issues about Talent Grids; the cost was akin to real estate prices, so exorbitant that many young people simply lacked the motivation to consider it... Anyway, as long as they were passable and usable, that was enough. There were no other aspirations; they’d simply given up.

The same ten thousand points could possibly score some Purple Gear, but when it comes to Talent, it’s uncertain.

However, Colin had yet to see Purple Gear being sold on the Trading Path, not to mention Purple; even Green was rare.

"Now with over twenty thousand points on me, maybe I should try synthesizing a bit to check the probability and see how the sales of the event go. With some luck, I might make an extra ten thousand or more points..."

Colin stroked his chin, thinking that if he had a hundred thousand points in savings, he might consider attempting to procure Purple-colored Talent.

But twenty or thirty thousand? Forget it...

In a bit, he’d have to repair and upgrade equipment, and with all the ins and outs, he estimated that about ten thousand points would be gone.

"I thought having a few tens of thousands of points would be more than enough to spend, but the ’Bonfire Company’ is way more cunning than I thought. They must be worried that if an employee earned too much without a place to spend it, they deliberately created a synthesis option."

Shaking his head, Colin glanced at the most important items for E level clearance: "E level Gene Compensation Medicine, a thousand points each, surprisingly haven’t increased in price. But the clearance certificates have increased in number, requiring three Silver..."

He happened to have three Silver Clearance Certificates left over from previous missions.

Beyond that, one Golden Clearance Certificate could be exchanged for three Silver Certificates. If he exchanged them all, he could get the injections immediately.

However, Colin was reluctant to exchange them because to upgrade from Silver to a Golden Certificate, he would need nine Silver ones.

The exchange rate was simply too lossy, and since he could earn one or two Silver Certificates with each mission, three or four missions would suffice...

"The first dose of Gene Compensation Medicine has the best effect; the subsequent two are more for consolidation with little significant enhancement. There really is no rush. Tch, it feels like I won’t see much improvement this round, but the points will deplete quite a bit."

Muttering, Colin started the exchange process and began considering how to repair the other equipment.

...

At the same time Colin was planning his own improvement, about half an hour’s drive away, a meeting was being held in a top-tier hospital.

"Here are the names of some patients from various departments...as you mentioned, those who don’t have much therapeutic value left but are still lucid, totaling one hundred eighty-eight..." Dean Wang, his hair a mix of black and white and wearing thick presbyopia glasses, passed over a list.

Across from him sat several police officers in black uniforms. The leader, a middle-aged man in his forties or fifties, scanned the list briefly after receiving it. It clearly documented details like the progression of the patients’ conditions, survival rates, estimated remaining lifespans, and so on...

After a cursory look, he handed the list to a young man and woman beside him, both in their twenties, who carefully perused it, occasionally asking the doctors present for more information about the patients mentioned.

The middle-aged officer sat to one side, assisting them...

At this time, although the doctors didn’t know why the authorities had suddenly convened them, they still responded honestly, prompted by the dean.

A doctor asked curiously about the investigation, only to be told it was routine.

"Just a routine investigation?"

The dean’s expression remained unchanged, but he didn’t believe it. His gaze flicked, almost imperceptibly, to the middle-aged man’s epaulettes, observing the police rank—was such a high-level executive needed for a mere routine investigation?

Moreover, it looked like the chief was just assisting the two young individuals, but he reasoned that if only the younger pair had come, he, as the dean, would unlikely have summoned nearly all the critical care doctors of the hospital.

This piqued his curiosity about the background of the two youngsters...

After all, mere talent couldn’t justify such a high-ranking figure’s assistance. Nowadays, who didn’t have talent? Whether here or elsewhere, background was what mattered.

Of course, while curious, he wouldn’t ask unless they offered the information.

About an hour later, the inquiry was over.

At the officer’s request, everyone signed a memorandum not to reveal anything about the investigation for a year.

"Comrades, please remember to keep this confidential. If something goes wrong, the responsibility would be no small matter," the middle-aged officer reminded them as he clapped the dean on the back.

The young man and woman in black uniforms didn’t seem concerned; after all, a leak was virtually impossible once the memorandum was signed.

Even if a leak did occur, they could use certain methods to quickly identify the person responsible and the reason...

Then, the trio didn’t linger, collecting the documents into their briefcase, ready to leave. But at that moment, a doctor couldn’t help but ask, "Well, may I ask what you need these people for?"

He paused, then added, "Of course, if there’s a need for confidentiality, I didn’t ask."

Well asked! The dean silently praised the neurologist, Dr. Wang, for voicing the curiosity without having to speak up himself.

Hearing this, the three officers in black uniforms exchanged glances. The middle-aged officer was about to speak, but one of the younger individuals with a smile explained:

"Although we can’t disclose the specifics, the rest isn’t a big deal to mention.

"If all goes well, these people may have the opportunity to live or even return to good health, rather than have their future dictated by a disease."

Having finished, a small murmur rose among those present. They knew their own patients better than anyone; how could any of them possibly have a chance to live on?

"I can’t say more than that, I’m afraid. Please do keep an eye out for patients similar to those on the list in the future..."

The young person in the black uniform finished speaking and prepared to leave.

"Wait..." Dr. Wang suddenly thought of something.

"What’s the matter?"

"I’ve just recalled another patient that I didn’t think of earlier..."

Dr. Wang suddenly remembered a young person from half a month ago, a young man who faced death with a calm and resigned expression. The way he had looked when he left made a deep impression on the doctor.

He couldn’t figure out why, but he had failed to recall this earlier when writing the list, and only now, as the trio prepared to leave, did it suddenly come back to him.

Then, with good intentions, Dr. Wang mentioned the overlooked Colin.

.

.

.