Speaking of which, Qi Zhimu looked back, sizing Herta up.
"But now isn't the ti for you to act. Once you've fulfilled your wish, you can pay back with interest."
Herta swallowed her thanks and nodded silently, her small face returning to its usual expression.
"When my spaceship crashed, all the ergency supplies were destroyed. There are no dicines here to treat your injuries," she stated.
"If there aren't any, then we'll just look for so."
Qi Zhimu didn't seem to care at all, his gaze scanning the desolate surroundings.
"The Labyrinth Zone also contains worlds manifested from peaceful stories. Nearby might... hmm?"
His gaze fixed on a spot by the road not far away, where a crooked green sign stood with barely legible writing.
[35 km to Grizzly City]
"Grizzly City? Sounds like a place with a lot of man-eating bears. Never heard of it..."
Qi Zhimu grumbled casually, but noticed from the corner of his eye that Herta's expression froze upon seeing those three words, and she fell into a strange silence.
Oh?
Noticing her abnormality, Qi Zhimu tilted his head and asked with interest.
"Looks like you know which work Grizzly City manifested from."
"...Yes."
Herta's voice lowered unconsciously as she pointed toward the gray horizon.
"Unless it's an extrely low-probability coincidence, it should be the apocalypse-thed movie released in the azure calendar year 2139: 'disorder'."
"Elaborate."
"An apocalyptic disaster movie. The city has a permanent population of over twenty million. Within three days of the disaster, most people turned into the walking dead, leaving only the most primitive instincts for killing and feeding."
"Oh, I get it. Zombies. They're so ugly it's physically nauseating. Can we bypass it?"
Herta didn't answer, scanning the surroundings in her usual way.
After a mont, she shook her head slowly, her tone helpless.
"No. Just like the Life-taking Mirror Shadow before, we are already inside the world manifested by the movie. The spatial coordinates are locked. To leave, we must complete the plot."
"You an we have to trek through a city with nearly twenty million zombies?" Qi Zhimu raised an eyebrow.
"Yes," Herta nodded.
Hearing this, Qi Zhimu showed no sign of wariness; instead, his lips curled into an arrogant, even eager smile.
Like a fun-seeker finding a new toy.
"Interesting."
Although his arms were severed and his abdominal wound hadn't healed, Qi Zhimu summoned his staff.
"My Reserve Food, do you know what it ans for a powerful mage to appear in a zombie setting?"
His eyes flickered with excitent as he looked at Herta.
"...A max-level account entering a beginner village for a slaughter?" Herta tilted her head.
"Good analogy. Let's go, into the city. First, find a hospital to sew my hands back on, and let these brainless things see what it ans when 'tis have changed'."
...
That said, Qi Zhimu hadn't forgotten a potential problem.
—Restrictions regarding rules.
The Labyrinth Zone contained countless independent mini-worlds ford from novels, movies, and even ani.
Each had different settings.
If an area had rules regarding its worldview—like the Mirror Ghost's fake bodies being invincible or splitting when killed—they usually followed the principle of 'the strong dragon cannot suppress the local snake'.
Of course, outsiders wouldn't be stripped of their own settings either.
Unless there was a specific setting like the second stage of Life-taking Mirror Shadow, where one could only walk and not use special abilities.
Qi Zhimu's magic wasn't restricted in the world of disorder.
Inside a large Grade-A tertiary hospital.
Many zombies were blocked at the entrance of the dicine warehouse, unable to break through the thick ice in front of the door.
The air in the pharmacy warehouse was filled with the characteristic sll of a hospital.
Qi Zhimu sat casually, his two cleaned severed arms placed on dical pads, aligned with the stumps of his elbows.
Herta picked up dical scissors and snipped the end of the thread.
"I say, little Herta, can you be a bit more nimble with the needle?"
Qi Zhimu stared intently at the needle and thread in Herta's hand, a cigarette he'd swiped from a doctor's office dangling from his mouth to distract himself.
However, the cigarette wasn't lit.
"Even though I'm a Virtual Substance Lifeform, I'm still human-type. My body is made of flesh. Don't stab like you're sewing a shoe sole, okay?"
Herta put down the scissors, her usually calm face now full of seriousness.
"I've never studied surgical suturing."
"You don't need to have studied it, just don't... just sew it directly. Don't worry about being professional or not; I'm not going to howl in pain because of it."
Qi Zhimu was speechless.
"Just connect the flesh and align the bones. You know the recovery power of so Virtual Substance Lifeforms. Stop stalling and just do it."
Herta pursed her lips and stopped talking.
Under the light, the silver curved needle pierced the skin, carrying the surgical suture through the muscle fibers, pulling the severed forearm and upper arm together.
Hiss—
The feedback of pain made the corner of Qi Zhimu's mouth twitch.
The sound of his soft intake of breath was faint, but in the quiet room, it was exceptionally clear.
The cigarette in Qi Zhimu's mouth almost fell out. He instinctively wanted to pull his hand back but forced himself to endure.
Herta's movents were indeed unfamiliar, even clumsy.
Every ti she threaded the needle, it was accompanied by a slight deformation of the flesh being pulled.
But at this mont, her expression was extrely focused.
Her beautiful purple eyes stared intently at the suture site. Her bangs hung down, obscuring her vision slightly, but she didn't bother to brush them aside, obediently following Qi Zhimu's instructions.
In and out went the needle, over and over.
Occasionally, she would steal a glance at Qi Zhimu, an inexplicable emotion hidden deep in her eyes that even she hadn't noticed.
A mont passed.
The left hand was half-sewn.
Cold sweat broke out on Qi Zhimu's forehead, sliding down his cheek and dripping onto his collar.
His body was stiff, and so muscles trembled uncontrollably.
The feeling of the needle and thread traveling through his flesh was more torturous than having it chopped off.
"Phew..."
Herta cut a thread and suddenly stopped.
Looking at the crooked suture that resembled a centipede, then seeing Qi Zhimu's slightly distorted expression, she couldn't help but sigh.
"I told you to use anesthesia, but you wouldn't listen."
She glanced at the tray nearby, where there was an unopened bottle of Lidocaine.
"We clearly found this just now. Local anesthesia isn't that much trouble."
"Huh? Anesthesia?"
Qi Zhimu forced a stiff smile, gesturing toward his arm with his chin.
"You underestimate . What is this level of pain? Back in the day, I... hiss, anyway! A real man doesn't need anesthesia."
Herta watched his performance silently, not exposing him, simply picking up the needle to continue sewing.
"And besides, it doesn't hurt."
To save face, Qi Zhimu added another sentence.
"Really, I don't feel a thing. It's just a bit itchy."
"I don't think I ever said you were in pain."
Herta replied flatly and unexpectedly, then the needle tip pierced the flesh again.
Uh... Qi Zhimu was instantly at a loss for words, his eyes wide.
Staring at the little brat in front of him who was seriously sewing for him with her head lowered, he actually felt like he was choking on his own words.
Is this what they call giving yourself away?
User Comments
0 comments from readers