"What's the problem?"
"You should know getting shot is no small matter, generally, you have to report it to the police.
We would be in a very difficult position.
We also have to take on certain risks," the white doctor said with a you-know-what-I-mean look on his face.
The black man took off a gold necklace from around his neck and placed it on the doctor's desk, "This is the down payment. Just cure my brother, and I'll give you more money."
The white doctor picked up the necklace and felt its weight, "I'll need twenty thousand US dollars more."
"Fuck! You might as well be robbing me!"
"That's the market rate. If you can't accept it, you're free to seek treatment elsewhere," the white doctor shrugged.
The black man thought for a while, "OK, as long as you can cure my brother, I can give you twenty thousand US dollars."
"Good, then hurry up and arrange for the money. We need the surgery fee upfront before any treatment."
"Are you really a doctor, you money-grubber?"
