Lynx Impact!
"It looks good with it. It's beautiful when you swing it."
Her words seemed to lift Skadi's spirits somewhat, though she didn't show a smile on her face. Her steps, however, became lighter.
All the best.
Skadi nodded to her, then walked away with her new weapon in her arms. A few seconds later, she disappeared into the darkness of dawn.
The room fell silent again. Miss Surtr returned to bed.
One minute. Two minutes. Three minutes.
She jumped out of bed. It was 4:20, and she wasn't sleepy at all.
"Okay, two hours of sleep should be enough," she muttered to herself, making up a casual excuse for her stress-induced insomnia. She got up, wanting to go for a walk, but ultimately sat back down on the bed... It was as if something in her subconscious wanted her to pay attention to something, but another part of her subconscious wanted her to mind her own business.
It sounds a bit schizophrenic—but just imagine yourself as a primary school student who hasn't done their winter break homework and doesn't want to play Yongyechao. After all, the interplay of emotion and reason is an eternal and unchanging theme of debate for intelligent individuals. And these interplays create the vast majority of tragedies and comedies in the world.
Tragicomedy.
Miss Surtr did not think she would get involved in any tragedy or comedy.
But...
She raised her hand and opened the PRTS terminal that had been lying to the side—she had realized that her stress-induced insomnia stemmed from the row of 99+ comments in the Rhodes Island Pharmaceuticals internal communication group. Her instincts told her that this abnormal burst of nocturnal discussion meant something of great significance.
It's not a good thing. But it shouldn't be a bad thing that affects the overall operation of Rhodes Island Pharmaceuticals either. The fact that there's just enthusiastic discussion without sounding the alarm or sending private messages to me, the professional all-purpose assistant, for help means that the situation is under control, but its nature is quite special.
What could it be?
—Was it like that Warfarin got stuck on a street lamp and then blown away by the wind from the building?
—Or perhaps...
A dozen or so awkward or hilarious scenarios flashed through the girl's mind. This anticipation grew within her—a relaxed smile appeared on her lips as she opened the chat group interface, eagerly awaiting what awaited her.
Then--
[It's terrible! Doctor Kal'tsit has suddenly fallen seriously ill and is now in the ICU!]
What caught the girl's eye was a pinned message with a clear direction and detailed description.
Her smile froze on her lips.
What else can I say? Just accept my bad luck. _(:з"∠)_
I hope episode 145 will be released soon... It's been over ten hours, and the editor still hasn't responded to me _(:з"∠)_
Chapter 147 - Lynx Charge!
ICU.
ICU stands for Intensive Care Unit.
Normally, only patients who are near death, suffering from severe illnesses, or missing limbs or organs are placed in the ICU. Of course, it's also possible that patients with minor injuries or illnesses might pay a large sum to be placed in the ICU for peace of mind. But in any case, this is where medical resources are most concentrated.
Given Kal'tsit's overly conscientious nature and the extreme scarcity of medical resources in Chernobog, this Miss Lynx would absolutely not waste such precious resources on herself for a simple headache or fever—or even a fracture or limb injury.
There are only two possibilities for this to happen.
First, Kal'tsit thoroughly assessed her physical condition. She was convinced that staying in the ICU would only lead to greater waste of resources and delays—she was a rational person, and she would naturally make the right judgment when the situation was right.
Secondly, this decision was not made by her—she was no longer able to make choices or judgments about her physical condition.
—Kal'tsit ...
She got up, too lazy to change, and instead used her will to twist the molecular structure of her pajamas, transforming them into her usual black dress. Raising her hand, Laevateinn floated behind her, and a step forward was accompanied by a surge of wind.
Unlike many dream realms, Terra is a place where randomly tearing apart space can have many unpleasant consequences.
The moment she stepped out of the room, her heart calmed down. As she walked out of the small building, her thoughts returned to normal.
Kal'tsit will be fine—with Persephone around, even if that Miss Lynx is on the verge of death, she'll definitely be pulled back by that sorcerer, who is perhaps the most powerful in the world. And since Persephone didn't specifically come to inform me of her request for help, it means that everything is within Persephone's capabilities.
Calm down, take a deep breath. The girl regained her composure as she stepped onto the quiet streets of Chernobog in the early morning—she could still vaguely sense the traces and scent of Skadi left in the atmosphere when she left the Mobile City minutes earlier. This further cleared her mind.
A drone flew over at a leisurely pace; there was no doubt that Persephone was still working, even now. She nodded at the drone and then got straight to the point.
When did this happen?
"Seven hours ago, when you left Chernobog for the test area," came Persephone's response from the drone's speaker—clearly, Persephone knew perfectly well why she had suddenly jumped out of her bedroom into the street at this point.
—Seven hours ago... So, shortly after I delivered the gift, Kal'tsit fell ill?
—Yes, I knew Kal'tsit was acting strangely back then. Not only was she kind to me, but she didn't seem to mind the gifts I gave her... It must be because her illness was about to flare up. Her hormonal imbalance was affecting her emotions, wasn't it?
—Tsk, this is a bit... uncomfortable.
The drone flew in a certain direction towards Chernobog, at the end of which was one of Chernobog's original medical facilities. The drone was moving faster than usual, and she followed closely behind.
"Is it serious?" she asked—the unspoken question being, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"For an ordinary doctor, it's serious," the young female Doctor replied calmly through the speaker. "More than 36 percent of her internal organs have been hydrolyzed due to the aftereffects of drug abuse. Her bone marrow is essentially inactive, and 41 percent of her brain nerves have developed functional disorders. If I weren't here, and you weren't here either, Warfarin and TOUCH could at most save her life but would have to replace half of her body with prosthetics. But since I'm here, there's no problem."
Crossing the main street, the early morning air was utterly silent. The medical center in the distance was brightly lit, and the presence of numerous medical staff and patients immediately came into her senses.
She sensed Kal'tsit's presence. It was like calcite, cool and independent—weak, yet remarkably stable. Persephone was absolutely right; the Miss Lynx had already passed the critical period.
"Is she alright now?" As he approached the gate, the hurried look on his face quickly disappeared. A familiar Medical Operator glanced at him, and he nodded in acknowledgment before watching the operator return to his busy work.
—It seems Kal'tsit's condition isn't too bad.
"She's fine," Persephone replied. "That's why I concluded that I didn't need to inform you immediately—I rebuilt her internal circulation system and used the repair agents you had prepared for her—yes, you guessed it. She didn't use any of the body-restoring medicines you prepared for her. Perhaps it's because she's planning to analyze those ancient artifacts, or perhaps there's some other reason. But in any case, the culprit who made her body the way it is now is herself."
Instead of taking the elevator, they jumped directly from the atrium upon entering the stairwell. They leaped across the tens of meters in one bound, and their final landing point was in front of the isolation door of the ICU ward area.
The drone that flew in then opened the locked door for her—several nurses selected from the local medical staff, on night shift, glanced at her curiously. Then, a message from the medical management system made them look away, allowing the woman with the inflammation to walk straight ahead.
Forward, forward. The closer she got, the calmer and more steady her steps became—a faint, dissipating aura lingered outside that particular ICU. And that aura felt familiar to her too.
It was Amiya — Amiya had been here for at least four hours.
Presumably, the Little Rabbit stayed close by while Persephone began treatment. And after Kal'tsit was out of danger, she stayed with her for a long time before leaving the ward.
And then Persephone's voice came from beside my ear.