Using the MC system to pretend spiritual revival

Is there another bug in Chapter 219?
"Hehe, young man, it seems you're recovering quite well."

Just as Amon was still contemplating his own changes, and Tomie was sitting quietly beside him, a voice, old but full of energy, came from afar.

Looking up curiously, I saw the middle-aged, overweight nurse I often saw helping out walking alongside a slightly hunched, thin old man.

Amen recognized the man; he was the kind doctor surnamed Wang who had treated him.

However, the other party spends most of their time on the first floor preparing medicine and resting, and only comes up when new patients come or when routinely observing their condition.

During the time Tomie was out looking for food, he had met her a few times, but she came and went in a hurry, and he only exchanged a few simple polite words of thanks.

However, to my surprise, the other party came up again at this time and took the initiative to talk to me.

However, Yamen quickly understood.

As she walked, the middle-aged nurse pushed an empty nurse cart. As she passed the newly added and densely packed hospital beds on both sides, bags of various foods were thrown into them, including instant noodles, bread, and bottled water, a motley collection.

Looking at this scene, and recalling what I had learned before that various supplies had become hard currency after the city collapsed, it seems that this should be considered charging a consultation fee?
Observing what others had thrown out, and pondering in his heart, when the cart came to his bedside, Amen picked out about the same weight, then thought for a moment and took a few more pieces, throwing them all into the cart.

Before Dr. Wang could say anything upon seeing this scene, Amen preemptively said with a smile:

"Thank you for your careful treatment. I'm recovering very well. The extra parts are actually..."

Amon then openly expressed his desire to leave Tokyo for a safer place outside, explaining that the extra food he offered was mainly in exchange for some medicine and maps to carry with him.

After observing for a period of time, Yamen also discovered that although this place was called a clinic, it was actually fully equipped with all kinds of protective measures, and it should also have the weapons and tools needed for going out to explore.

Although he and Tomie had two handguns previously issued by the Metropolitan Police Department, their ammunition was still limited.

Considering the considerable walking distance along the way, some essential tools are still indispensable.

At the same time, since my body is recovering abnormally fast for some reason, even if I am not fully recovered in two more days, there should be no major problems, so it is better to do it sooner rather than later.

After hearing this, Dr. Wang opened his mouth, ready to offer some advice, but in the end, he just sighed.

Seeing the determination in the boy's eyes, he said nothing more.

"Sigh... alright, I'll pack you three days' worth of medicine and painkillers and hemostatic supplies. As for tools, I have some here too. Come to the lobby on the first floor and get them from me whenever you need them..."

After saying that, the old man didn't linger any longer. He turned around, put his hands behind his back, and left through the door with the overweight nurse who was carrying a cart full of food and medical fees.

Amen could understand the other person's feelings; staying in a well-protected and reinforced clinic might be safe now.

But this is also limited in time. No matter how long this so-called safe zone can maintain its safety, Amen is not the kind of person who would entrust his life to luck.

Moreover, the original ten-person Shinsei team is now down to just himself and his only remaining teammate.

Thinking this, Yamen looked up at Tomie, a teammate who was sitting quietly and working hard beside him, and received a sweet, silly smile in return.

Well, although it's a bit impolite to say it like that, Yamen thinks it's just a silly grin. Although it looks very standard, it has a kind of artificiality to it, like someone who isn't very smart.

"...I, as the captain, failed to protect everyone...but at least...I have to ensure your survival..."

Turning his gaze away from Tomie's delicate and beautiful face, Amon lowered his head, looking at his hands, which were noticeably more delicate and fair. Feeling waves of hunger burning in his stomach, he muttered to himself in a low voice.

However, just as Amen was secretly worried about his own strange changes, an untimely voice came over.

His voice was quite loud, and could be heard clearly throughout the small, old second-floor ward.

"You think you can escape through the death zone? You? You're dreaming!"

Most people's attention was drawn to it, but they quickly lowered their heads and looked away.

Yamen frowned and looked in the direction from which the sound came. He saw that it was a bed that had been added in the last few days, located diagonally opposite him.

A middle-aged man with a shaved head and a messy beard, his exposed arm bulging with muscles and dripping with water, and his other arm wrapped in bandages—that's why he was there.

Yamen met the other's mocking and sarcastic gaze, his expression gradually darkening.

Meanwhile, the other person kept talking. Seeing that the short, thin young man on the opposite bed still dared to look at him with that kind of gaze, he said increasingly harsh words and quickly revealed his true purpose.

"Why aren't you saying anything? You don't actually think you're so capable, do you?! I've seen plenty of people like you. When you're talking big, you all seem capable, but when danger comes, you're the first to run away."

"I think it's good for someone like you to go and die, but don't drag others into it. I think the girl next to you is pretty. I can help you take care of her. Don't worry, I have some influence around here, I'll make sure she's well taken care of, hahaha."

Throughout the entire conversation, the man never looked at Amon; his eyes remained fixed on Tomie, who sat quietly by the bed, with a greedy gaze.

Under Amen's gaze, the other party even stuck out his tongue and licked his lips, adding to his already unpleasant appearance with a touch of lewdness.

Tomie, who was being stared at, didn't react much, but Amon couldn't sit still any longer.

He felt his breathing becoming heavier and heavier, his forehead throbbing, his eyes glaring angrily at the muscular bald man on the opposite bed, and his hand involuntarily reaching for the police pistol beside him.

However, this action was also noticed by the seemingly nonchalant bald man, whose previously dismissive expression instantly turned cold.

He reached into the blanket beside him and pulled out his hand...

"Click..."

After the safety clicked, he immediately pointed the dark muzzle of his gun at Amon's furious head.

"Kid, I don't care if you were a cop or what, getting your hands on a Metropolitan Police Department standard-issue handgun proves you've got some skills." The bald man grinned coldly, narrowing his eyes. "But times have changed. Guess where this gun came from? It's survival of the fittest now."

"If it weren't for the rule here that you can't fight, do you think you'd still be alive after looking at me like that? I'm only being nice to you by taking a liking to your girlfriend, do you really think I'm made of clay?!"

Each word seemed to fuel Amen's anger, piercing his mind.

His hand, already gripping the pistol, tightened its grip, making the steel pistol creak and groan.

Yamen didn't know what was wrong with him. Logically speaking, in this situation, choosing to endure or seek revenge later would have been more rational.

But waves of uncontrollable anger would surge into his brain against his will.

At the same time, the burning, stinging hunger that had been lingering in my lungs began to spread to my consciousness.

No one noticed that the boy's gaze, which had been filled with anger and seemed to be ready to kill his enemy, had changed and gradually turned into pure malice, a cold and greedy look like that of a wild beast hunting its prey.

It is the most primal appetite.

The bald man with the gun on the other side remained oblivious to this, continuing to speak as if nothing had happened:

"Heh, I think you'd be in trouble. Forget about the death zone, you might not even be able to get out of the safe zone. With your skinny arms and legs, those gangs won't let you go. Besides, monsters were already appearing in the next block last night, and a small gang was wiped out..."

Amen could no longer hear what the other person said next, and his previously drowsy mind instantly cleared up.

Only one sentence still echoes in my ears.

"Monsters were spotted nearby last night..." This information, which almost foreshadowed that the safe zone was no longer safe, made Yamen's heart tighten.

He shook his head violently for a while, trying to clear his mind.

He didn't bother to confront the bald man with a gun, who might be a gang member, any longer. Under everyone's astonished gazes, he rolled out of bed, grabbed the food beside him, and pulled Tomie along, ready to head downstairs.

When they reached the door of the room in the stairwell, he turned around, gave the bald man leaning against the bed a deep look, and then pulled the girl beside him downstairs again.

At this moment, Tomie, who seemed slow to react, finally spoke up in a somewhat puzzled voice:
"Captain, where are we going?"

"This place is no place to stay any longer. The supposedly safe zone without monsters has already been attacked by monsters. There's no time to lose, we have to leave today!" With that, he rushed downstairs without looking back.

Upon arriving at the lobby on the first floor, I looked around and saw the small, sealed room. I didn't care about etiquette or modesty; I rushed to the door and started banging on the heavy iron door.

"Dr. Wang, it's me, Yamen. We're leaving now!" He was still wearing a hospital gown, his tone urgent and serious.

After waiting for about ten seconds, they heard the clanging of metal chains, and the large iron gate creaked open a crack. Dr. Wang's old, wrinkled face peeked out, his eyes filled with doubt as he looked at the man and woman standing outside.

"Why are you getting ready to leave so early? Your injuries haven't healed yet." As she spoke, her gaze swept over the bandages faintly visible on the boy's abdomen outside the door. After hesitating for a moment, she didn't try to persuade him any further. She just sighed, stepped aside, and opened the door.

"Alright, I won't ask any more questions. Come in with me."

Amon looked anxious, but without hesitation, he pulled Tomie along and followed. As soon as they entered, their vision was immediately brightened by the high-wattage lights shining down from above, illuminating the vast array of bottles and jars.

Upon entering, one is greeted by a worktable filled with various glasswares and medicines, as well as shelves lining an entire wall neatly stacked with different medications. But as one delves deeper, and pulls back a curtain to reveal a completely different scene.

Weapons, weapons everywhere, covering the walls and the floor.

From small daggers to large firearms and machetes, even on the shelf furthest inside against the wall, Amen saw a somewhat old light machine gun.

However, judging from its shape, it should be a product of the last century, but it still gleams with a cold metallic sheen and is shiny, indicating that it has been well maintained.

Yamen had no doubt that, given enough bullets, this thing's firepower would be in no way inferior to some modern weapons.

"Choose yourselves. If you want a set of weapons and equipment, I can only give each of you a melee weapon for self-defense." Dr. Wang's old voice rang out as he beckoned the two people who were standing there in a daze to come forward. He pointed to the various motorcycle suits and even the damaged bulletproof vests hanging on the rack next to him.

Perhaps noticing the questioning look in Yamen's eyes, Dr. Wang spoke up directly to explain:
"Many of them were mortgaged to me by people who came to see me for treatment, and then no one came back to exchange them. In just a few days, I accumulated so many."

"This..." Amen, who had come to his senses, hesitated. The equipment was fine, but in modern society, there was nothing that could be found that was very good.

As for weapons, he hadn't thought about them before, but now, looking at the various firearms on the wall, he was quite tempted. However, glancing at the food bag that Tomie was carrying and seeing that there wasn't much food left, he had no choice but to give up.

I carefully selected two relatively intact motorcycle suits. These are made of durable material that is not easily damaged and also provides protection for some joints.

While it's not very effective against inhuman threats, at least you don't have to worry about getting scratched when walking around the city.

For melee weapons, Amen chose a machete with leather straps, commonly known as a kukri, which he fixed to his back.

Looking at the girl's slender arms, he found a thin, sharp dagger about the length of her arm and handed it to her. This way, whether she was in danger and fighting back, or because of its weight, it wouldn't hinder her movements.

Having selected these, Amen turned to face the aged, hunched figure and bowed deeply in respect:
"Thank you, Dr. Wang. This is all we need. We were wondering if the food we were given earlier was enough?"

"Yes, that's enough." Dr. Wang nodded, then picked up a small box of bottles and jars from the table and handed it over. "Here you go. This is the three-day supply of medicine we agreed on, along with painkillers and hemostatics. There are also forty rounds of handgun ammunition in this box."

As he spoke, he glanced at the police pistols slung across the waists of the two young men in front of him, and continued, "I think you're running low on bullets. Consider these a gift from the old man. Be careful on your journey."

"Hmm!" Yamen looked at the box full of items, paused for a moment, and then nodded in response.

“I will, Dr. Wang.” Amon straightened up again, looking up with a serious and determined gaze into the old man’s cloudy eyes. “You’ve probably guessed it by now. We are police officers from the Metropolitan Police Department. My name is Amon. I am the captain of the field team of the Anomaly Response Division of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. Although I don’t know exactly what happened, if I can get out, I will definitely bring people to rescue you!”

"Alright, I hope so... Then this old man wishes you a safe journey." Perhaps noticing the boy's seriousness, the old man didn't refute anything, but the perfunctory tone was still noticeable.

However, Amon did not point out these things. He simply bowed again and then turned around and walked out of the small dispensing room with Tomie, who was already dressed in her gear.

"boom…"

As the heavy iron gate slowly closed, it separated the view inside from the view outside.

The elderly man, known as Dr. Wang, remained silent for a while before taking unsteady steps back to the cluttered workbench.

They began to operate the items on a shelf with medicine hanging on it in a regular manner, each step as precise as a machine.

Finally, the old man's aged, wrinkled but unusually steady hands poured a clump of green, sticky substance into a glass, added some water from the medicine rack, and placed it on the heater. The liquid boiled and gurgled.

Just a few breaths later, as if reaching a certain critical point, the various things in the bottle and the viscous green lumps instantly melted and fused together, turning the entire bottle of liquid into a thick green color.

Then, as if it were preordained, the old man ignored this bizarre and strange phenomenon and took the bottle of medicine without hesitation.

They skillfully packaged the samples into test tubes and then stacked them on a wheeled cart.

It was placed alongside the various colorful medicines and syringes that had been neatly arranged earlier. Then, they prepared to push the cart out the door.

Everything was incredibly smooth, as if it had been rehearsed a thousand times, but the next moment:
"Crack~"

A crisp snap of fingers instantly echoed in the cluttered, cramped room, as if it were some kind of command.

Dr. Wang, who had been pushing his cart with bright eyes and preparing to open the iron gate to change the dressings for the various patients on the second floor, suddenly froze, motionless, as if he had turned into a wax figure.

In the corner of this cramped room, on an empty chair, ripples spread and twisted like water, and soon a figure with hair tied up, wearing a crown, and with elegant eyebrows and eyes appeared out of thin air.

Lu Gu leisurely got up from his seat and strolled over to Dr. Wang, who had been ordered to stand still. He looked at the various bottles and jars densely packed on the medicine delivery cart with some curiosity.

He pulled out a freshly made and packaged green vial, and clicked his tongue in disbelief:

"Tsk tsk~ A seeping medicine, for treating sprains and bruises?"

As he spoke, Lü Gu put the fluorescent green potion back in its original place and then looked at the whole box of colorful potions.

Insect damage, spider webs, wind accumulation, poisoning, slowing down, injury...

They come in a variety of colors and patterns, but they have absolutely nothing to do with treating illnesses.

After looking around for a while, Lü Gu finally found two small red bottles of healing potion among a pile of bottles and jars after opening the data view.

However, compared to those hundreds of other random items, the probability is indeed quite small.

Thinking this, Lü Gu looked up with a strange expression and looked at the product of his intelligent creation experiment, named Doctor Wang, whom he had frozen in place.

"If I remember correctly, the instilled rule was a kind and neutral personality, and the setting was that the patient would die after three days of treatment."

He muttered to himself, then looked down at the amount of medicine on the table—enough to knock out any ordinary Steve—and murmured uncertainly again:
"Why does it seem like it's going to be hard to survive for three days? Is there a bug? Is there a conflict between the character design and the witch template?"

(End of this chapter)