Chapter 33
Chapter 33
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: Modern Man's Constitution Improvement (8)
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"Gasp!"
Suddenly, a piercing light stabbed at my eyes, jolting me upright. At the same time, pain receptors screamed throughout my body.
"Grah!"
"You're awake? Please don't move carelessly."
A calm voice came from above. As I lay back against something hard, I saw a friendly platinum-blond face wearing a white mask.
"I'll administer the anesthetic now. Just relax... It won't hurt."
A syringe in his hand caught my eye. No wonder I felt chilly—I was stark naked on the operating table.
So it's the OR. Success.
Relief washed over me.
In the Schupaven Republic, only university hospitals operate emergency rooms and provide 24-hour care.
But patients don't exactly punch a clock.
The rich have no issues. They keep doctors at home or on call nearby. One phone call solves everything.
The poor, though? Come nighttime, they're helpless until morning. Many miss their window and pass away.
I exploited that reality.
Once Erika was found, word would go straight to President Braithner.
With her needing treatment, wouldn't they call her personal physician, Richard Enke? That's what I figured.
No other hospitals would be open nearby anyway, so waking Richard might be the fastest option.
Of course, it was just a gamble. Police or passersby hearing my screams could have taken us elsewhere.
All I had was faith in how much trust President Braithner placed in Richard.
Just in case, I'd drilled into him not to sleep too soundly.
Looks like it paid off. No one would suspect self-inflicted wounds now.
The anesthetic needle sank deep into my skin.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ When I opened my eyes again, I was in a pristine white hospital room.
"Hup, hah, heok!"
I couldn't breathe right and thrashed wildly.
"Sir, you're awake? Oh dear!"
A nurse rushed in and handed me a paper bag.
"Slowly now—breathe in, out, in, out..."
"Hup, hah, hup, hah..."
Breathing into the bag repeatedly, my racing heart finally settled.
"Good job. I'll fetch the doctor."
Moments later, the door opened.
"How are you feeling?"
Richard wore a fresh smile.
"Thanks to you, much better."
My voice sounded like a dying man's, but he didn't seem worried.
"Glad to hear it. Aside from the lacerations on your back and arm, it's mostly shallow cuts, abrasions, and bruises. You'll have scars on your back, arms, and collarbone, but the wounds should heal quickly."
He glanced me over, then added with a troubled smile.
"Well, it might take a bit longer for you, Lucas, than a typical patient."
"Whatever. What about Erika? She came in with me, right? What's happening now?"
"Just dehydration, nothing else serious. I was shocked. She had a raging fever last night, but it turned out to be a mild cold. She's recuperating at home now—President Braithner took her."
"Huh, tough girl, that Erika."
I couldn't help but admire her. How was she fine after days abandoned in a freezing cave?
"What's the situation outside?"
"See for yourself."
Richard handed me The Jetrom Daily.
📰 Breaking News "Great Leader's Devoted Supporter Lucas Redan Rescues Miss Braithner After Tireless Search and Fierce Brawl with Culprit!" A massive photo of my youthful mugshot dominated below the headline. The ID pic I'd given Daniel. "Lucas Redan, a 9th Grade Clerk at the 13th District Office, was deeply concerned by Miss Braithner's disappearance and set out alone to search. Around 5 a.m. today, he found the kidnapped Miss Braithner in a cave by the Myre River in the 13th District. Redan fought the kidnapper to save her and refused to back down despite sustaining serious injuries. The culprit fled when 13th District police officers, already patrolling nearby, approached at the sound of Redan's screams. Miss Braithner and Redan were transported to a hospital for treatment." It was an extra edition—just one sheet.
"Daniel wrote this, but it went out under someone else's byline? Guess he really got booted from the paper."
"There's follow-up coverage too."
The front page of the next day's paper had another huge photo. Seeing it made me chuckle.
📰 Breaking News "We Are the White Crow Unit" Oscar's chalk scrawl on the cave wall hit hard. They'd even added graffiti like "Krüger's a parentless bastard" and "Ossel's a pack of mongrels" on request, to amp up the presence. I'd checked them during the rescue, but apparently the shocking content got censored. The Lüdelheim Police Headquarters announced finding traces of multiple people living in the cave, along with graffiti too vile to repeat. This suggests the incident wasn't a lone kidnapper but terrorism by the mysterious 'White Crow Unit' against the Great Leader—abducting and murdering innocent citizens. Citing this paper's series on '13th District Disappearances,' they posited the reactionary group might base in the 13th. They're pursuing the fugitive culprit and bolstering security there and nearby. Meanwhile, the Leader's Office issued a statement... Wait, the Leader?!" I jolted upright, staring at Richard. He nodded with a serene smile.
"Word reached him late, but Leader Krüger's taking keen interest. You'll probably get a medal, Lucas."
My jaw dropped dumbly.
Things had blown up big time.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ I'd rescued Erika on World Year 1900, December 28th.
This world's calendar mirrors Earth's but neatly divides the year into twelve 30-day months—handy. Three days to New Year's.
So I figured today was the 29th. Nope—30th, the last day of the year.
I'd slept over a full day. Guess fatigue had piled up in this frail body.
Through the darkening window, festive clamor rose.
New Year's Eve celebration.
Papers raced with grim White Crow Unit stories, but Lüdelheimers fretted yet partied on.
Maybe safety in crowds.
"Hmm, should I drop something even more shocking?"
I muttered, frowning, then chuckled.
No need to overthink now. Focus on healing.
Right on cue, a nurse wheeled in a tray.
"Dinner time, sir."
Ah, hospital food sucked—Earth or here.
I poked at the bland meat porridge, unsalted sausage, and dried apple. The nurse scolded me.
"Want to recover fast? Eat it all!"
"Yes, yes."
After dinner, I opened the window for fresh air. The cold wind sharpened my senses.
Instantly, bang! bang!—fireworks burst below.
"Mr. Redan! Over here!"
"One word, please!"
"Is the police statement all true?"
I endured the blinding flashes, waved with a smile. Cheers erupted.
"Sheesh, feel like a celebrity."
Someone knocked.
"Visitors!"
Daniel, Oscar, Georg.
"Come in. Food?"
"First words on sight, huh."
"You know how rough my diet is?"
"Glad you and Erika sis are safe, bro."
I ruffled the stoic Georg's hair.
"Plan worked. Oh, Daniel—Mrs. Schmidt say anything?"
"Worried sick, of course. Bawled seeing the paper. 'Why risk it in this cold instead of staying home?' Had to stop her bringing food."
"Mrs. Schmidt's an angel."
Oscar chimed in.
"Convince her nicely. It's all for the Great Leader."
"Whoa, chills! Sounds sincere."
"Pfft!"
Georg's freakout cracked us up.
Visit didn't last—nurse booted them for disturbing rest.
Knowing she'd chased off reporters too, we didn't complain.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ How long after drifting off, counting ceiling patterns and plotting ahead?
"Argh, fuck! What now?!"
Someone stabbed my bandaged arm wound. I screamed upright.
Room glowed—city lights and countless lanterns ablaze.
Clock said under three hours' sleep.
A cool-faced man smoked in the window chair. Dark, he'd pass for Grim Reaper.
"You stab my arm? What the hell! Nearly died of pain!"
Pain loosened my tongue. But Captain Johann Werner showed no reaction.
"Heard you're getting a medal."
"Put out the cig before a patient."
He didn't budge.
"Even reached the Leader's ears. A brave civil servant."
"Oh, such an honor."
I sneered full tilt. Johann's lips twisted.
"This what you wanted, Lucas Redan? Climb where a mere Ossel can't touch?"
"Pfft! Paranoid much? I had no clue I'd hit Leader level. Sure, spreading White Crow Unit's name was the goal."
"Too big."
Johann closed in instantly—like shrinking space, blink of an eye.
"Gack! Why choke..."
"Better nip it now."
Vice-grip intent to kill—eyes bulged.
"You fickle, gack, bastard! Acted like you'd spare me, I told you, krrk! I'd take Krüger's head... or you'd die!"
"Madman."
He released dryly.
"Hahk, hahk..."
Drool flowed; I clutched my heart. Calls me crazy?
"Really think you can kill Krüger?"
He'd retreated, speaking.
"Hah, whoo... I'll kill him somehow. Can or can't ain't the point."
Breath steady, I pierced his blank stare.
Read me, read. Figure his thoughts.
Sales-honed skills maxed.
Hesitating.
He pondered killing me. Obvious.
"I'm in Krüger's sights now—halfway there. Off him, I could hook you up too?"
Pure bullshit, earnestly spat.
"Spouting nonsense."
"Even if not, I'm easier to use now than some ad model. Name recognition means more mileage. Dump me anytime—expose the setup."
"Slippery tongue oiled?"
He rose dryly.
"Spare your neck for now."
Outside, massive cheers swelled.
"10! 9! 8!"
"Remember—it's not yours."
"7! 6! 5!"
"Happy birthday."
"4! 3! 2! 1!"
Ah, was today that Lucas punk's birthday?
"Woooah!"
Window exploded in brilliant fireworks.
Rainbow bursts wove fantastical lights across the sky.
Shitty timing.
Magic fireworks, not gunpowder.
Chills down my spine.
Threatening with my birthday—all my info in hand.
Glanced back; Johann gone.
"Got my leash, huh."
I rubbed the handprint on my throat.
Stumbled, drew curtains, hit the bed. Clogged ears against roaring cheers.