Chapter 81: Jason Lynch Awakens
"How’s the Base Commander? Is he going to be okay? Say something!" Liam Quinn, Jason Lynch’s right-hand man, demanded anxiously.
The doctor didn’t dare speak bluntly to them. Every single one of them outranked him and had stronger superpowers. How could he possibly dare?
He could only explain in a hushed tone, "Please, keep your voices down. I need to perform a detailed diagnosis on the Base Commander."
He was a Healing Ability User, but his rank was too low. Advancing was difficult, and so far, he had only reached the Second Rank.
He could only treat superficial wounds. As a result, Jason Lynch looked, for the most part, unharmed on the outside. But internally, he was a wreck; some organs were even still bleeding.
Of course, he didn’t dare say any of that. He could only cherry-pick the good news. "He’s out of immediate danger. The Base Commander just needs to circulate his own energy to clear his meridians. He’ll make a full recovery in less than a week."
Superpower users have bones and meridians far stronger than ordinary people, and with the unpredictable energy flowing within them, they are capable of self-healing.
It just takes time, as well as assistance from the Healing System.
"That’s good, that’s good." The base leadership collectively breathed a sigh of relief. They continued to crowd around the hospital bed, making small talk for a while to show their concern.
Even though the Base Commander was unconscious, appearances had to be maintained. Every official present had a mind of their own, full of schemes.
One wrong move, and word would get back to the Base Commander. That would be a truly foolish, self-defeating mistake.
Gradually, the crowd dispersed. A base this large needed to be managed and run; they couldn’t all stand around making small talk.
Jason Lynch slowly drifted back to consciousness. His head was splitting. Weakly, he lifted a hand and croaked, "Water..."
But even that tiny movement sent waves of agony through his entire body. His head, his limbs, every part of him, inside and out, was screaming in protest.
"Painkillers..." Jason Lynch rasped, his voice feeble. He forced his heavy eyelids open and scanned the room.
Not a soul in sight...
’Normally, I’m surrounded by people at all times. Where did everyone go?’
Jason Lynch couldn’t afford to think. The mere effort of concentrating caused a sheen of sweat to break out on his forehead, his back already soaked through.
He stopped thinking and summoned every ounce of his strength to lift his hand and press the call button beside him.
The BEE-BOO—BEE-BOO— of the alarm blared through the ward. Moments later, several doctors in white coats burst in.
"The Base Commander’s awake! Quickly, run a check on him!" The doctors swarmed around him, a flurry of hands and feet as they began their examination.
They completely ignored Jason Lynch’s pleas for water and painkillers, single-mindedly focused on changing his IV drip, giving him injections, and running more tests.
Amid the chaotic fussing, Jason Lynch passed out again. Outwardly, he appeared to be fine, merely a bit pale.
But only the doctors knew the true severity of Jason Lynch’s internal injuries. Unless they could bring in a Healing Ability User of the Fifth Rank or higher...
...otherwise, relying on his own self-healing ability would leave him with permanent side effects and a lifelong disability.
With their Base Commander incapacitated, Nutwood Base was left leaderless, its people buzzing about like headless flies.
With a bit of instigation from the lower ranks and a show of resistance, the base gates were thrown open, restoring the old rules.
Everyone could finally come and go from the base as they pleased, no longer having to worry about being caught by the Base Commander!
And so, first thing in the morning, a boisterous crowd gathered in front of Lily Hart’s lottery shop, their chatter a stark contrast to the silence of the previous day.
Lily Hart had a vague idea of what had happened. She decided to fish for information. "I heard there was some big trouble at the base last night?"
A customer put a finger to his lips, his expression a mix of mystery and furtiveness. "Boss Hart, you shouldn’t be asking about that. Be careful, or you might lose your head."
Lily Hart raised an eyebrow. "I’d like to see who’s going to make me lose it."
The man choked, at a loss for words. ’Why can’t she take a hint? I’m obviously warning her not to dig any deeper!’
Another person nearby jumped into the conversation. He was much more direct. "It was all your doing in the first place, Boss Hart!"
Lily Hart pointed at her own nose in surprise. "Me? What does it have to do with me?"
’Of course I know what happened. But I still want to ask. I want to hear everyone else’s version of the story.’
’Maybe this is just the nature of a true gossip.’
"Oh, there’s a lot to tell..." The outspoken man was clearly a chatterbox. Seeing he had a willing audience, he immediately launched into his story.
He started from the very beginning: Jason Lynch’s strict lockdown, everyone sneaking out the other night to buy scratch-offs, and then the zombie horde that appeared outside the base during the day yesterday.
He continued, describing the zombie limbs that had mysteriously appeared in the Base Commander’s office, and went all the way up to the one-sided beatdown the Base Commander received last night...
The man was an excellent storyteller. The tale he spun was full of twists and turns, captivating the crowd so much that they forgot all about their scratch-off tickets.
Everyone was all ears, afraid of missing a single detail. The crowd punctuated his tale with gasps of amazement and sighs of pity.
Even Lily Hart was engrossed, listening as if it were a fairy tale, her wide eyes fixed on the man’s lips and gestures.
’I love this, keep it coming! More, please!’
The story came to an abrupt halt with Jason Lynch waking up that morning. The crowd stared at the storyteller, their eyes wide with anticipation.
He clapped his hands together. "And that’s all I know," he said, his mouth dry. "I don’t know what happened next."
The earlier parts of the story were practically common knowledge in the base—hardly a secret when so many people had been involved.
But the extent of Jason Lynch’s injuries and his current condition were top secret. The average residents had no way of finding out.
The surrounding crowd was disappointed, unwilling for the story to end just like that. "Well, if you hear anything new, you have to come back and tell us!" they urged.
Lily Hart nodded along. ’Listening to gossip in the lottery shop is a pretty great feeling,’ she thought. ’Especially since this guy is such a good storyteller.’
She handed him a cup of water, a gesture of sincere respect. The storyteller took it and gratefully downed it in one gulp.
With the gates open, Nutwood Base, which had been sealed for two full days, felt as festive as if it were the New Year. People streamed out in droves.
Those with missions to do went to do them, and those who killed zombies went to kill them. But upon seeing the lottery shop on their way out, they naturally got the itch to try their luck.
And once you get that itch, you have to scratch it. But scratching can easily become an addiction, and once you’re addicted, those Crystal Cores in your pocket are as good as gone...
Then they’d see the convenience store next door and find it impossible not to buy something. After all, this was a golden opportunity.
Everyone knew from the internet that Boss Hart was always on the move. Who knew where she’d be tomorrow?
So, while they had the chance, they had to go on a shopping spree! For a while, both the lottery shop and the convenience store were swamped.
The bustling activity continued until seven in the evening. Only when dusk began to fall did the customers start trickling back to the base.
But a few hardcore scratch-off addicts remained, a stash of unscratched tickets still beside them. Lily Hart didn’t rush them, letting them take their time.
All Lily Hart could feel was hunger. ’I’m starving. I’m going to die,’ she thought. It had been too busy at lunchtime; she’d only had Diana Sharp grab some bread from the convenience store to eat.
’What good did that do? It’s long since been digested! I didn’t even get my afternoon nap today. Now I’m just hungry and tired.’
She found a random chair and plopped down, draping an arm over the backrest and resting her head on it, silently trying to recover some energy.
The moment Roman Rowe boarded the RV, he started to wail. "I’m dead tired! We didn’t stop stocking shelves all day! My hands are still shaking!"
As he spoke, he held up both his hands, his voice booming. It was obvious he was exaggerating.