She crouched in the corner of the bed, somewhat dazed, hugging her knees and trying to clear her mind of impure thoughts. Her gaze suddenly fixed on the coat that Meng Xingyao had carelessly tossed onto the bed.
A cold metallic object gleamed under the light.
Uesugi Chigenki picked it up curiously. It was an empty, thumb-sized vial with metal casings on both ends and a needle inside. She noticed a pressure button on one end of the metal casing, and pressed it firmly.
With a sharp click, the needle inside the vial shot out, and retracted when pressed again.
An injector? Quite stylish, but why does it have a slightly strange smell?
What was the original reagent used for?
She searched around and found two unused vials in Meng Xingyao's clothes.
Does she have some illness that needs this medicine for treatment? But she hasn't injected anything these past few days...
Unfortunately, given Uesugi Chigenki's nature of not thinking too deeply about things, she simply put the vials back.
Suddenly, there was a thud from the bathroom. Uesugi Chigenki froze for a moment before rushing over, knocking on the door, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
There was no response. Uesugi Chigenki shattered the lock with one palm and opened the door to find Meng Xingyao's graceful figure completely naked, trying to stand up against the wall. Blood was flowing from her nose, which she was wiping away with her fair arm.
When Uesugi Chigenki entered, Meng Xingyao stared at her with vacant eyes. Soon, her gaze became unfocused, and she began to faint. Uesugi Chigenki quickly caught her before she hit the ground.
"Wake up! Please wake up!" Uesugi Chigenki panicked, not knowing what to do. After a moment, she remembered to press her thumb against Meng Xingyao's philtrum, applying slight pressure.
But it clearly didn't work. Uesugi Chigenki was so worried she was nearly crying, not understanding why Meng Xingyao had suddenly fainted.
As Uesugi Chigenki tried to carry Meng Xingyao to the bed, she slipped, crashing down in a dizzying tumble. Meng Xingyao's body pressed tightly against hers, the soft sensation inexplicably making her want to hold on tighter.
She had instinctively held Meng Xingyao close when falling, so Meng Xingyao wasn't hurt, but Uesugi Chigenki herself felt completely disoriented.
She sat on the floor holding Meng Xingyao, dazed for a long while. Her orange hair spread behind her like flower petals on the bathroom tiles, her pretty but somewhat silly face showing complete bewilderment.
After a while, she came to her senses and carried Meng Xingyao out of the bathroom with a limping gait, carefully placing her on the bed. She then ran back to the bathroom for a towel, wet it, and returned to gently wipe the nosebleed and dampness from Meng Xingyao's face and body.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, nursing her aching tailbone, she nudged Meng Xingyao, "Hey, hey, are you alright?"
It was like talking to herself - Meng Xingyao was deeply unconscious. If it weren't for her breathing, Uesugi Chigenki would have thought she was dead.
What should she do, what should she do?
After a while, she remembered something and reached for Meng Xingyao's phone, intending to call 120 (emergency services), but found the phone was password-protected and didn't even have fingerprint recognition.
She put the phone back on the bed and slowly crouched down.
The sunlight from outside was split by the window frames into blocks that fell into the room, illuminating half of the girl's orange hair that draped to the floor. The girl timidly buried her head in her knees, her eyes full of self-blame, helplessness, and confusion.
But she quickly pulled herself together, first organizing her thoughts and what needed to be done, then carefully checking Meng Xingyao's condition.
Meng Xingyao had no external injuries; the wounds from last night's battle had already healed due to her enhanced physical constitution.
Looking at the perfect curves of the girl before her, she inexplicably swallowed and her cheeks suddenly turned pink.
No! No! What am I thinking?!
She pulled up the blanket to cover Meng Xingyao's body, suppressing the strange thoughts in her heart. She pressed her lips together and placed her palm on Meng Xingyao's forehead.
A warm sensation came through, like a fever, but somehow different.
Having dealt with this before, Uesugi Chigenki hurried to the bathroom to wet a towel and placed it on her forehead.
But that was all she could do. She huddled in the corner, buried her head in her knees, her eyes filled with loneliness, helplessness, and confusion.
Hearing the ticking of machines, Su Ze slowly opened his eyes. He sat up, looking at the desolate hospital room, casually pulled out the tubes and needles from his body, and smiled, "As expected, very stable."
Turning to look at the dark window, the glass reflected Su Ze's face and neck covered in cracks, his skin somewhat dry. He glanced at Shen Qingsheng sleeping soundly in another hospital bed.
His severed arm was attached to something clay-like, with vessels and flesh gradually growing from it.
There were healing-type ability users in the hospital, so it seemed his arm would recover soon.
After a while, he took his belongings from beside the bed and went home.
The blood moon had passed, and the nurses weren't surprised by this scene. These supernatural beings were always so decisive - their physical constitution was so good they could never get sick in their lifetime, regardless of smoking or drinking. Powerful supernatural beings could heal most severe injuries within days.
Their only ways of dying were either being killed or their bodily functions failing after several hundred years.
This was because they had unlocked their genetic locks, and their genes had undergone tremendous changes through repeated breakthroughs.
Su Ze took a sip from the flask at his waist as he walked along the devastated streets. Under the starry galaxy, the ravaged Seventh District came into view.
Many residents of the Seventh District saw Su Ze return, but they just silently continued their work - moving corpses, saving people, rebuilding houses...
A few people looked at Su Ze with anger and disgust, seemingly blaming him for failing to protect the Seventh District and causing such heavy casualties.
More people were still grateful, though, because they knew that without Su Ze, they wouldn't be alive now.
Su Ze didn't acknowledge them, striding towards his home.
His actions could face heaven and earth with a clear conscience; his duty was to protect the Seventh District.
But he wasn't a god - he could only do his best. Whether good or bad, he had tried his hardest.
To some people, if you save all ten people, you're a hero, but if one dies, you're a sinner. They will criticize you extensively and attack you furiously online.
Such people are extremely selfish, generally poor, because their perspective is limited and short-sighted. When you give them money for relief, they'll take it, but disgustingly, they won't be grateful and instead complain that you didn't give enough.
These people aren't many, but they aren't few either.
Not everyone only remembers your failures while forgetting your contributions - those who remember your contributions still make up the majority.