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墨書 Inktalez
Jack's breathing was faint, and his heartbeat lacked strength. The intense pain did little to quicken his pulse. I was deeply worried that he wouldn't survive this surgery.
I glanced at the weakened Jack; there was no light left in his eyes, which were reduced to mere slits.
As I grasped the third Tuber, its vines surprisingly did not entangle me but instead began to twitch spasmodically. It was as if it knew that such actions were futile, already succumbing to fear before the fight.
My hands had become adept at this task, and in an instant, I severed the Tuber. With a swift motion, I lifted my left hand while my right hand scraped with the dagger, returning with a glowing object.
While I crushed the glowing object underfoot, I turned back to Jack and gestured. "The third one."
Jack's head lay at a ninety-degree angle against the ground; of course, he couldn't see what it was—only that I had crushed a glowing object the size of a jujube. However, he realized that I still held something in my other hand.
He spat out the bandage roll from his mouth. Poor thing—when Jack expelled the bandage, his body involuntarily twitched.
"If you need something, just say it. How would I know otherwise?" I whispered to him.
Jack glared at me with his narrowed eyes filled with resentment. "Let me see that thing."
"Are you sure you want to look?"
Jack continued to glare with no words and made no move. Seeing his determination, I realized he was quite insistent.
I lowered my left hand in front of him. The Tuber, a pink jelly-like substance, was quivering dangerously close to Jack's face, the vine on top swaying wildly, over a foot long.
Before I could lower it any further, I saw Jack's eyes narrow to slits, rolling back to reveal the whites. It was as if he had just burped, and then he fell silent.
Anyone who found such a Monster growing on their back—especially seven of them—would likely react this way. Those who weren't scared out of their wits were certainly bold.
I regretted showing him that thing.
I tossed the Tuber into my hand and continued with the surgery. The Morphine was kicking in; the rest of the procedure was carried out while Jack was in a deep sleep. Of course, my quick movements also played a part. Before the effects of the Morphine wore off, I managed to cut off all the Tubers from Jack's back.
While Jack remained unconscious, I used a knife and alcohol to clean his wounds, carefully peeling away until I reached his own tissue and saw blood flow out. Then I stopped the bleeding and bandaged him up.
By the time I finished tending to Jack's wounds, I was utterly exhausted.
After catching my breath for a moment, I hurriedly dressed him. It was my clothes; his jacket smelled terrible, while mine was somewhat better. At least it had been cleaned once. However, I was nearly frozen from being exposed while performing surgery on him; anyone who saw me would surely think I was a creep.
I quickly adjusted Jack's jacket and sat down next to him to rest. Earlier, I hadn't felt too cold while rushing to put on shorts, but now that I stopped to put on the jacket, it didn’t feel any warmer.
I shivered as I sat there for a while, and when I felt I had regained some strength, I called out to Jack to wake him up. We needed to keep moving; sitting here would definitely lead to hypothermia.
For Jack, waking up was painful; the effects of the Morphine had worn off. He opened his eyes, staring blankly ahead. His face showed no expression, but there was a constant sound of him inhaling sharply through his teeth—slip, slip.
I told Jack it was time to go. He seemed to be trying to lighten the mood as he shivered, "Your fart really stinks."
I almost exploded at him due to the misunderstanding. But I quickly realized that his sense of smell had returned to normal.
Still, it was infuriating. Who could fart that badly? Not even a skunk could manage that.
I ignored him and focused on packing up my things.
Jack was able to get up, but he didn’t seem in any hurry. He waited for me to finish and insisted on knowing what was going on. He had no idea about what had just happened. His memory was blank from when he fell asleep before the Light Barrier until he woke up in pain just moments ago. During that time, he had been in a coma.
Seeing his stubbornness, I briefly recounted the events. After listening, Jack furrowed his brows.
After a moment, he said, "Can you leave the Micro Submachine Gun with me?"
This caught me off guard. What did he mean by that? Did he plan to stay here alone?
I had risked everything to rescue him, and now he wanted to give up? I suspected something was wrong with his head.
I steadied my emotions and asked him, "Why?"
"Are you planning to just leave me here? If you leave me a gun, at least I can die quickly when I want to."
I was about to lose it. "When did I ever say I would abandon you?"
Jack clung to the stone pillar beside him and managed to kneel up, swaying as he looked at me from side to side.
"Are we both trapped by the Light Barrier?"
I nodded.
"We're both suspended in mid-air by this thing?" Jack tilted his head toward the vines on the ground.
I nodded again, though it felt a bit unnatural, as if something was off.
"Then how did you handle what's on your back?"
My expression froze instantly. My jaw trembled, but my teeth couldn't meet. Then I heard a scream—of course, it was mine, completely uncontrollable. I felt it was a miracle I didn't faint right there.
With a whoosh, I took off running. My brain didn't even register what I was doing; my legs moved of their own accord. I had to do something, or I would surely go insane. I had seen the situation on Jack's back; that horrifying sight was enough to break anyone. I hadn't realized that the same could happen to me.
The more pressing issue was that our Medical Alcohol was all used up. If I needed surgery, it would have to be done without sterilization. Of course, it also depended on whether Jack was capable of performing the procedure.
Panting, I ran back. Suddenly, I stopped in front of Jack, lowering my head while he looked up at me. In that moment, there was no thrill in looking down at him; instead, I felt like I was on the verge of disaster.
Jack stared at me for a moment before suddenly exclaiming in surprise, "You haven't dealt with what's on your back?"
I was almost in tears, nodding without being able to speak.
I finally understood why Jack chose to stay behind with the gun. He thought I wasn't capable of taking him with me. Given his condition, how strong could I possibly be? With his personality, he wouldn't insist when it was time to give up. To him, this was the moment for me to abandon him.
Jack's lips trembled. "Otherwise, should I take a look?"
His tone lacked any confidence, not at all like a master's degree holder from a prestigious medical school.
I thought again; he was in pain. The effects of the morphine had worn off, and he was trying to hold on.
Desperate times call for desperate measures. I turned around and knelt in front of him, quickly removing my shirt.
In an instant, I heard Jack's sobs. My heart sank to the depths.
(To Be Continued...)
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