The Medician Contract
The next person through the door was, in stark contrast to Control Corp, someone who radiated the aura of a genuine elite.
"I'll send you our catalog for your review. Should you require anything further, we are prepared to accommodate additional requests."
Without so much as an introduction, they remotely transmitted a catalog file on the spot. To my surprise, the other party was an agent from Medician.
Medician. In this world, they were the pharmaceutical giant that left every competitor in the dust the moment the subject turned to biotechnology — medicine, medical devices, cutting-edge surgical techniques, the works. In the biotech field specifically, even Technica was said to take a back seat.
Come to think of it, a lot of the most famous brand-name pharmaceuticals circulating in EFD were Medician Corp products.
Where Control Corp flooded the market with mediocre budget goods on a high-volume, low-margin model, Medician dealt primarily in high-end to premium products — exceptional performance, thoroughly proven efficacy, and a price tag to match. The pharmaceuticals I mixed and used personally were a cocktail of Control Corp and Medician Corp products, and the reason I resorted to those bootleg concoctions was simple: EFD's early-game capital was always tight. If I'd had money to burn, even a veteran like me would have happily splurged on the high-end stuff with its superior performance and proven results.
And as it happened, that possibility had just opened up.
"Medician, I see. Well, the biological tissue samples I brought back this time are living, which makes them especially rare. I can see why your side would want them."
"......"
Unlike the Control Corp Agent, who'd rattled on with unnecessary chatter, this one held their silence even after I'd clocked their identity and their intentions. The Control Corp Agent probably hadn't gone around announcing that they'd scored a better deal than everyone else — but seeing him walk out of the room looking so pleased with himself, this one might have picked up on something.
In that case, a direct approach would work better here than trying to rattle them.
"You don't seem to care for unnecessary conversation, so I'll be blunt. If I were to award this bidding war to your side, could Medician provide me with Hardened Skin Tissue?"
"......!"
Why? Surprised? Wondering how a mere convict could possibly know about something that hasn't even been released to the public yet?
It wasn't actually that hard. Hardened Skin Tissue had been one of the prisoner's "biotech" upgrade options that appeared early in the EFD storyline. According to the lore, before Medician released the product to the public, they'd first rolled it out to the prison and run a kind of live-fire clinical trial on inmates who were dying every single day. I remembered a lot of players back then grabbing the upgrade without a second thought, going, Your character's defense goes up without any extra implant surgery or additional meds? That's a straight-up jackpot~
The problem is, that was a game, so it got treated as a free system perk handed out to prisoners. Here, there's no way it's free.
As if a Mega Corp like Medician wouldn't have already run clinical trials. They'd have done plenty of field testing on mercenaries and soldiers, too. It was almost quaint that they were still at this stage. After countless trials, the safety profile had only just been verified, and a public release was right around the corner. So of course they'd be rattled when a mere convict brought it up. On the other hand, my demand probably sounded pretty absurd.
"So? What's it going to be?"
"......"
Faced with my repeated prodding, they stuck to silence for a while. Time was on my side anyway, so I waited them out at my leisure.
Why had I brought up Hardened Skin Tissue to Medician's agent? Wasn't it obvious? To show them I had an information source they didn't know about — and that I had the guts and the capability to drop something like that so casually. This was a rare opportunity. A chance to pick Mega Corps off the menu, one by one, and bleed them dry.
"...I don't know how you obtained information about Hardened Skin Tissue, but it is not something a mere death-row inmate should be coveting. To borrow a common phrase — you are overreaching."
"I'm aware. That's a custom service sold exclusively to VIP clients from the start, isn't it? I've got a long way to go before I become a Mega Corp VIP."
"Most people would simply call it impossible."
"If it were impossible, I wouldn't have brought it up myself. Anyone can see it would only make things messy."
"In other words, you said it knowing full well — and because you believe you can handle the consequences."
"At the end of the day, it all comes down to money. With enough money, there's nothing you can't do in this world. That includes a death-row inmate becoming a Mega Corp VIP client."
The people Medician actually treated like real customers were the whales with overwhelming cash-shop spending power. Special A++ grade cash cows, the genuine article. They were the people furthest from death — and at the same time, the ones who feared it most. They always wanted to be safe. From disease, terrorism, accidents, unexplained sudden death, and every other flavor of misfortune. That was exactly why so many of this world's wealthy signed contracts with Medician. Who wouldn't want a contract with a company that rolled out a new must-have item every year — things like the Hardened Skin Tissue I'd just mentioned, the kind of product that opened a rich man's wallet the moment he heard the name?
Maybe I'd pulled too much aggro. They were the first to decline.
"Let us consider this negotiation void. I will take my leave."
Apparently judging my proposal too absurd, the agent was ready to walk away — even if it meant giving up those precious rare biological tissue samples. Had they decided that even continuing the conversation risked an information leak? Well, that part didn't bother me. If anything, I'd be grateful if they cut their interest in the tissue samples that quickly.
"Well then, since Medician has so cleanly withdrawn from this bidding war, I suppose we can discuss a different contract."
They froze. Through the blind glass, the agent who'd been getting ready to walk out stopped — just for a moment.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly what I said. Medician has withdrawn from this bidding war, so the opportunity goes to someone else — and I thought we might use this meeting to discuss a different arrangement."
"If you intend to waste more time with that kind of absurdity..."
"......!"
How about that? Interested now?
"I'm sure you've already heard, but I'm a fairly well-known death-row inmate in this prison. I'm also the record holder for the highest profit margins ever posted on a Dark Zone expedition. Of all the items I've collected so far, how many do you think are unidentified research materials, pharmaceuticals, chemical compounds, and new materials that can only be found in the Dark Zone?"
"How many?"
"Don't play dumb. You already know. Anyway, until now those goods have been going through the prison AI's cargo valuation and selling here and there at a reasonable price — but it occurred to me that if I signed a direct supply contract with someone who actually needs them, I could get a much better rate. Valuation is relative, after all."
The same way a bottle of water costs a fortune in the middle of the desert and next to nothing downtown, selling to Medician at a premium beat getting lowballed by some no-name researchers any day of the week. They understood what I meant. They sat back down.
"That said, Hardened Skin Tissue is still off the table. Even a procedure limited to the body's vital areas starts in the hundreds of millions, and a full-body treatment begins at several billion at minimum. No matter how remarkable the things you bring back from the Dark Zone, they are not worth that kind of exchange."
"I already knew that. I was just testing the waters — I wanted to see how seriously Medician takes this matter."
"...I'll concede that. You are clearly no ordinary death-row inmate."
"Haha. Flattery at this stage isn't going to get you anything for free. This is a transaction, nothing more."
Hardened Skin Tissue? It'd be nice to have. But I wasn't desperate for it. In the game, it had been a performance pick that sat comfortably in the top five of every newbie-recommended skill list — but now that EFD was reality, I was confident I could find substitutes anytime I wanted.
What mattered was branding my existence into the Mega Corps' memory. Even if the hundred thousand idiots locked up in this prison looked at me like I was a piece of shit, I needed to lay the groundwork so the Mega Corps on the outside couldn't do the same. Which meant that for now, Medician was just another backup sponsor — same as Control Corp.
"As I mentioned, I'm willing to sign a contract with Medician and regularly supply various research materials, pharmaceuticals, chemical compounds, new materials, and so on that can only be collected in the Dark Zone. As for the transaction method, there's PrisonNet and the flea market. The former is monitored by the prison but makes direct trades convenient, while the latter is an open-bid system that leaves room for third-party interference. PrisonNet would be the better choice. As long as the transaction volume isn't excessive, the prison won't make an issue of it."
"Acceptable. Then what would you have headquarters provide in return?"
"Ten compound analgesic-anti-inflammatory syringes, ten rapid blood regeneration syringes, two tubes of rapid regeneration ointment, two packs of auto-suture bandages, and finally four adrenaline Boost Syringes. Supply these to me once a month, on a regular schedule."
"...Those are all high-grade pharmaceuticals. The compound analgesic-anti-inflammatories, the rapid blood regeneration, and the adrenaline Boost Syringes in particular are all used by high-ranking mercenaries and special forces heading into the field. They do not come cheap."
"But compared to what I'll be supplying you every month, they shouldn't be that expensive, should they?"
"That depends entirely on what, precisely, you are able to provide. You cannot simply omit that part of the equation."
"I wouldn't know that either. Every prisoner's specialized gas mask goggles have the Blind Feature installed, so I can't tell exactly which cargo would be useful to Medician. That said, I'm confident I can prioritize securing cargo that clearly falls into the relevant categories and supply it to Medician on a regular basis. It'll be a bit of a lottery from your end, but given that everything that comes out of the Dark Zone is a research subject, it won't be a losing proposition."
"That... is true."
That's what I said, but I knew perfectly well which items were more expensive and more rare. The better the Blind Feature worked, the more dangerous the area I was exploring, the more closely it matched the high-value cargo I remembered — the more expensive it was. Naturally, Medician — who knew nothing about how Dark Zone expeditions actually worked, or what the Dark Zone even was — had no room to dig into that.
There was nothing more irrational than a deal conducted under a clear information imbalance, and yet Medician's agent had arbitrarily decided that this convict probably didn't know much about the Dark Zone either. No matter how thoroughly they background-checked me, nothing ever turned up — so even these so-called elites ended up swallowing whatever some self-proclaimed Dark Zone expert told them.
"So what's it going to be? Will you withdraw from this bidding war, sign a new contract with me, and receive a stable supply of what Medician wants?"
"It seems like a reasonable proposal. However, the contract period and the finer details will need to be adjusted."
"Fine. Let's write up the electronic document right here."
And just like that, I signed another one-year supply contract — this time with Medician. Of course, a contract limited to a fixed monthly volume might leave a Mega Corp like Medician somewhat unsatisfied, so I added a clause allowing for separate additional transactions if they needed more.
I could now use all my consumables — ammunition, tools, pharmaceuticals, the lot — for free for a full year. And if I wanted, I could even turn a tidy side profit on top.
Things are finally starting to look normal.
Should I celebrate this victory with a nice cold glass of lemonade? Or should I just go completely off the rails tonight with fried chicken and beer?
While I was entertaining those pointless thoughts, the next person through the door after Medician was someone who looked... remarkably familiar. No — the blind glass meant I couldn't see them at all, but the faint silhouette alone was enough to guess who it was. On top of that, even in this sealed room, I could have sworn a faint smell of disinfectant was pricking at my nose.
Unlike the previous two, this one didn't even bother opening their mouth — whether they couldn't be bothered, or they were trying to preserve the spirit of a blind bidding war that had already been thoroughly exposed. They just transmitted a catalog file in silence.
The catalog that appeared in front of me was packed with an absolutely staggering lineup of products, every last one of them high-priced and high-performance. In other words, they were showing a secret catalog reserved for VIP clients... to a guy like me.
At this point, even if I wanted to pretend I didn't know who they were, I couldn't. I let out a faint sigh and got down to the "overtime."