"Which base did you come from before? And what about the medical subsidies... never mind."
Emil looked at her like she was an alien: "Do you know how much it costs to replace a bionic prosthetic limb? A full 500,000 contribution points, and that's just for a basic body with a compatibility rate of 57% to 86%. The higher the compatibility rate, the more expensive it is. The death compensation for a member of a dispatch team is only 150,000 contribution points. How could there be such a high subsidy?"
As he spoke, he scratched his face, looking at the screen where the girl was with some sympathy:
"The minimum living allowance area is just a nicer way of saying 'wait to die.' Many people who can't afford the medical care fees, homeless people who have no family to claim them, and people who voluntarily sign an agreement to waive their right to assistance are sent to the minimum living allowance area on the third basement level. The environment there is much worse than here. Basically, hundreds of people share one consciousness linking device. Although the nutrient solution can keep the brain active, in the long run, the owners of these brains will gradually go crazy until they die."
Xu Milu understood.
To put it bluntly, sanatoriums are essentially a way to sell your life for money. Government subsidies are insufficient, and sanatorium workers living in low-income areas are like stowaways crammed into the bottom of a cruise ship, with dozens or even hundreds of people sharing a single brain-computer interface. This overcrowding can lead to mental confusion and eventually, complete breakdown.
The human brain is quite fragile. Not to mention that the thoughts of so many people are tangled together like yarn rolled by a cat, even prolonged confusion of consciousness can cause the brain to collapse.
Emil seemed reluctant to continue the conversation, grinning as he tried to put his arm around Xu Milu's shoulder, unconcerned about being coldly turned away by her.
"You're a germaphobe, always like this... Let me tell you, I've already saved up some money by going on missions. Although I'm still far from 500,000 contribution points, once I get my share of the mutated bananas, I can upgrade Zixuan to an eighth-level sanatorium room."
"You don't know, the level eight sanatorium rooms have more scene options and can even simulate some simple landscapes, so she can stay more comfortably in the future."
Yes, Emil's lover is named Liu Zixuan, a rather poetic and familiar name. However, Xu Milu calculated based on the year and concluded that the person who named her was most likely born in the 1990s, which suddenly made sense.
What surprised Xu Milu was not the brain-computer interface technology, since the virtual technology of this world ten years ago could create holographic games that surpassed the original dimension—she saw Emil operate on the electronic screen and then buy a spicy hot pot by scanning his face.
Don't get me wrong, it wasn't for her to eat.
As the "payment successful" notification sounded, a steaming hot pot of spicy stir-fry suddenly appeared in the consciousness space of the electronic screen. A woman with a gentle smile sat at the table, eating and chatting with Emil, as if she was quite familiar with this operation.
Xu Milu felt that this operation looked familiar.
Doesn't this remind you of the electronic pets she kept when she was a child?
Feeding, bathing, exercising... and it seems like I also have to scoop the poop.
Eating spicy hot pot on an electronic screen, and most importantly, the person inside can still feel the flavor and the sense of fullness. What is the working principle behind this?
What should I do? I'm a little tempted.
...
...
"Is this the gourmet meal you were going to treat me to?"
Xu Milu stared at the plate of food brought over by the robotic arm waiter, her expression grave.
On the brownish-gray plastic plate, three lumps of rice paste-like food of different colors were neatly placed. The pale white one seemed to be fish paste, the dark brown one was probably beef paste, and the last one was a pink chicken paste that looked rather strange.
—There was even a broccoli floret the size of a little finger. Judging from the yellow florets that were almost fully open, it was clear that the broccoli was no longer fresh before it was put into the pot.
The pungent industrial fragrance creates a false aroma; this small portion is actually full of technology and ruthless work.
She reluctantly admitted that it could be considered "food," but it was definitely not gourmet food.
Emil looked pained, as if he was distressed about losing his contribution points: "This is the most expensive set meal, the 'Sea, Land and Air Vegetable and Meat Set Meal,' which costs 150 contribution points. It contains chicken, beef, and fish meat, and most importantly, it has fresh green vegetables!"
You call this a green vegetable?
Xu Milu stared at the broccoli in silence.
But she didn't embarrass Emil. She knew that if Emil hadn't been invited to dinner today, he would never have been willing to order this set meal by himself.
She picked up a spoon, scooped up a spoonful of minced meat, and put it in her mouth to savor it. The moment her tongue touched the "minced meat," she immediately recognized the true nature of these three lumps of paste:
Mutant mashed potatoes, sodium nitrite, trans fatty acids, beef flavoring, fish flavoring, chicken flavoring, sodium benzoate, sodium sorbate, citric acid, synthetic saccharin...
The report states that we found a small amount of mashed potatoes in a large quantity of chemical seasonings.
Although it is marketed as "meat paste," it is actually a counterfeit product made from seasonings.
Real meat needs to be deodorized, stir-fried, or stewed to remove the bloodiness, but this "meat paste" only requires putting mutated potatoes and various seasonings into a machine, and a "land, sea and air vegetable and meat paste set meal" can be obtained in five seconds.
In a doomsday crisis, solving the dangers of survival and facing the crisis of mutation are the top priorities for human survival, and efficiency is of paramount importance. Therefore, it is natural that no chef would spend several hours preparing a dish.
—Perhaps there is, but 150 contribution points is clearly not enough to cover it.
"Eat up! This minced meat is absolutely delicious! Countless people crave this dish every time we go on a mission; it's just too good!"
My dear reader, there's more to this chapter! Please click the next page to continue reading—even more exciting content awaits!
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
