His broken limbs still could not be moved carelessly.
So Otto wriggled like a caterpillar toward Mei's luggage. Enduring the intense pain, he rummaged through the bag with his injured left hand.
He took out Mei's broken communication device, then wriggled beneath the table and bit down on a toolbox, dragging it out.
When Mei had carried him into the room, Otto had carefully observed the place and discovered this thing.
He opened the toolbox with his injured hand and inspected the tools inside. They were not fine military-grade equipment, but they would do.
He listened carefully to the sounds downstairs, then began repairing Mei's communication device.
If he wanted to survive in this situation, he needed to break the deadlock. He knew Mei was lost. If this continued and they encountered some heavenly punishment, Mei would surely be fine, but he would truly die.
He was simply too fragile.
Enduring the pain and the haziness clouding his consciousness, Otto repaired the communication device. This thing was actually very easy to fix. World Serpent's equipment was quite similar to Schicksal's. Mei might not know how to repair it, but he was the Bishop of Schicksal after all. He was capable enough.
He had also found a good opportunity to repair it.
By the time a thin layer of cold sweat covered his forehead from the pain, Otto had finally fixed the communication device.
But as he looked at the device, Otto pushed the toolbox back into its original place with his head and began thinking.
He had a small idea he wanted to try.
However, this belonged to World Serpent. If he made a call, there was a good chance it would be monitored.
But if the attempt succeeded, his situation might improve.
Risk and reward. Otto hesitated for a