Darkstone Code

"I’m going to be a dad!"

The Plumber was handing out little gifts in the lobby of the community service company, and his coworkers all congratulated him on stepping into a new stage of life.

As a Plumber for the community service company, he was different from those working for ordinary mid- to low-end or low-end neighborhoods; he was an employee directly under the community service company.

When there was no specific job, he would stay in the workshop of the community service company; in the lobby he had his own desk, with some file folders on it and a typewriter.

For mid- to high-end communities, everything had to be done "neatly," because that was an attitude, and also a system.

Whenever someone called to tell the Plumber there was work, he had to record the year, month, day, time, who made the call, and what the call was about—whether it was for a particular resident or for the community pipeline, inspection, repair, part replacement, and so on, all had to be written down in detail.

Then he also had to record the specific working hours, specific content, what was taken out or repaired, and in the end the customer had to fill in a receipt form, if the work was a service for residents.

It was a complete set of procedures you had to follow, because for people living in mid- to high-end communities, their class position had already made them used to this kind of orderly life.

When they were dissatisfied with some job, or wanted to know some information, the community service company could immediately pull up a detailed work report.

On the one hand it showed that the residents’ money hadn’t been spent in vain, and on the other hand it helped prevent these people from making trouble.

At first the Plumber was very uncomfortable with this; he had never known that a Plumber even had to write damn reports, but since he’d moved to Bupen he’d started getting used to it.

He quickly blended in with the people around him; no one thought anything bad of this honest, simple Plumber from a small rural place, and many were willing to help him adapt to his new life.

Like now, he didn’t leave anyone out; even the manager got his candy.

"The pipes were just inspected these two days. I Can give you three days off; you can properly keep your wife company."

The manager was an easygoing person; this was the sort of situation that often appeared in slightly better work environments—you could feel that people didn’t seem quite so sharp-edged.

The Plumber scratched his head. "One day off is enough for me, I’ll come to work tomorrow."

The manager thought for a moment. "No problem. If there’s anything urgent, I’ll call you."

The manager actually knew that the Plumber lived not far away in another Middle Class community. He was surprised that the Plumber could afford a house in a Middle Class community, but he had no desire to dig into it.

In Bupen there were always some people who didn’t behave like ordinary folks. They weren’t poor, could even be called quite rich, but they just liked to work, and not in those Elite professions either.

At the financial company where the manager had worked before, there was a cleaner; it was said that when the market was at its best, she had nearly a million in her investment account!

But she still worked as a cleaner, and didn’t go live some kind of extravagant, wasteful life just because she had money.

Choosing the kind of life you like was also one way Federation people pursued the spirit of freedom.

At ten in the morning, the Plumber and the little maid arrived at the hospital where they had made an appointment; everything felt so professional!

White walls, the smell of disinfectant in the air, and those Doctors and nurses in professional attire—this all made people feel calm and at ease.

In fact, before coming to a hospital, many people are afraid; they fear their bodies might be worse than they imagine. They’d rather endure some possible discomfort somewhere than go to the hospital—they’re just scared.

Afraid the Doctor will tell them, "you’ve got a fucking terminal disease," so most people have a certain fear of this place.

But once you actually enter the hospital, you’ll feel a kind of calm acceptance of fate—no matter what, it’s all destined.

A very contradictory feeling.

Because the little maid hadn’t been pregnant very long, it was too early to talk about any detailed tests on the fetus. This visit was just to establish a simple medical file.

A medical file was also an important way for a hospital to peel people layer by layer; once the file was set up, that patient would basically only come to this hospital for treatment for the rest of their life.

If they rashly switched hospitals, they’d have to bear a much greater financial burden.

Take this time for example: the little maid had spent more than five hundred in total on various tests to set up a file for herself.

If next time she didn’t come here but went to another hospital, that other hospital would also have to establish a similar file.

But files between different hospitals weren’t shared or interconnected, and they weren’t even considered the private property of the patient; they were the property of the hospital, and the hospital would not transfer them to another hospital for free.

That meant if another hospital set up a new file, then the money spent before had to be spent again!

For rich people this didn’t matter; they didn’t care about such small sums, but for ordinary families this was an extra, somewhat heavy expense.

Especially for those who had already been seeing Doctors in the same hospital many times, or over a long period—their files would become even more important.

Inside were records of all the medical problems these patients had encountered since the file was opened; that was very precious Wealth, and sometimes later diagnoses and treatments also needed those materials as a basis.

This was why you often saw some people cursing under their breath when they walked into a hospital, and cursing when they came out again.

After waiting more than two hours, the little maid finally finished all the tests; in the Doctor’s words, she was very healthy now.

As for the child in her belly... it was probably only the size of a grain of wheat; after all, it had only just implanted not long ago.

On the way back, the little maid suddenly grew a bit emotional. "Just setting up a file cost almost five hundred. Sometimes I don’t even know if it was right or wrong for us to settle here."

Thoughts like this had kept popping up in her mind and constantly colliding with some of her other ideas.

She had always felt she was someone who belonged in a big city; with such excellent conditions, she was sure she could gain a foothold in a big city.

But look at her now—without Lynch and Penny’s help, she wouldn’t even be able to secure the basic guarantees of life!

Let alone face all those bills every month—that was already beyond what an ordinary person, an ordinary family, could cope with!

Back in their hometown, that place that looked very backward and more like the countryside, setting up a medical file like this would cost at most fifty. If it was any more, the hospital wouldn’t have any business.

In the countryside, making money wasn’t easy to begin with; if your prices weren’t reasonable, people just wouldn’t come.

The Plumber patted the genuine leather steering wheel; he could already handle this luxury car very skillfully. He liked everything about it, and he felt he was somewhat different from his past self.

He had started to care about how he dressed; he no longer tied a strip of cloth around his waist to keep his pants from falling down, but used good suspenders.

He’d learned to button the top button of a shirt, and he’d learned how to quickly tie a tie and a bow tie.

He liked this life here.

Facing his wife’s question, he shook his head. "The manager told me our salaries will go up a bit next year, and your income isn’t low either. Together we can handle things as they are now."

"After we’ve paid off the money for the house and the car, everything will get better."

He encouraged his wife. He’d once been unwilling to come to the big city, but now... he didn’t want to leave.

He liked driving to work every day and exchanging good-morning greetings with his coworkers.

He liked holding a one-dollar-ninety-nine coffee and a one-dollar-forty-nine flatbread and enjoying a moment of peace in the afternoon.

He liked the neon lights at night that could light up the sky, not the pitch-black nights back in the countryside.

A picture that moved his heart, full of the distinct flavor of a great metropolis, was slowly unfolding.

He didn’t want to go back.

The little maid let out a small sigh. It was just a sudden thought; in fact, she also didn’t want to go back.

What was there to go back for?

All the things in that little shitty place added together weren’t worth one ten-thousandth of Bupen.

At night the two slept in separate beds. The Doctor had told them that the child had only just implanted and was still very fragile, so for the time being they needed to "stay apart" for a while.

When the child grew a bit bigger and could withstand the impact, they could sleep together again.

That night they watched TV and slowly fell asleep, each holding their own expectations for the present and the future.

The next day, the little maid arrived at Lynch’s villa on time. After yesterday’s "simple" record-making, she felt even more strongly the real meaning of money in her life.

People cannot live without it!

"You didn’t use my business card."

When they got up in the morning, Austin had already made breakfast. Her cooking was a bit worse than the little maid’s, but still edible.

Life in the Federation was really too easy. There was pre-processed toast, pre-processed beef, pre-sliced cheese, and a toaster.

So-called making breakfast was just putting different raw ingredients where they were supposed to go, then waiting for the different beeps and assembling them together. That was how you made a simple breakfast.

Add some milk, and that was something that suited Federation people’s stomachs: not hard to eat, of course not exactly delicious either, but at least edible.

The little maid nodded and handed the card back to Lynch. She had originally thought of using it, but then she figured that if the hospital gave her even better treatment, she might end up spending even more.

She had to save every bit she could, so she didn’t take the card out.

Lynch took the card back and didn’t comment on what the little maid had done; he just reminded her to rest more and avoid heavy work.