Chapter 1370: The Call of the Stars (Part 13)

"When I ran out of the underground subway tunnel, the sunset on the ground seemed brilliant and splendid. The broken city was like a huge black vortex, and terrifying monsters occupied this place.

I knew I had to fight them to survive, but after only two short hours, I understood that my enemies were not these monsters.

In order to get rid of the mucus that stuck to my body in the subway carriage, I had to peel off a part of the skin on my arm. The wound was painful, but what was more fatal was that the sanitary conditions here were likely to cause the wound to become infected. I had to find a place to treat the wound immediately.

I didn't expect to find any professional medical equipment; at least there should be clean water sources, and it would be best to have some cloth that could be used for bandaging. Food and sleep were things I could only consider after getting rid of this damn pain.

I don't know if it was my illusion, but this kind of pain made half of my body start to feel numb. I had suffered many injuries in the past, but no wound was like the one on my arm right now, hurting me to the point of muscle paralysis and dizziness.

Unsurprisingly, I was separated from my partners, but what was worth rejoicing about was that the little animal that was a bit talkative was still accompanying me. It greatly reduced my mental pressure. It's always a good thing to have a member in the team with a good mental state.

I think I might be on a street in New York, but it's really hard for me to distinguish carefully. After all, I've been away from Earth for too long.

Soon, I found that I was very lucky. There was a hospital on the street where the subway station was located, and fortunately, there were no terrifying monsters on this road.

Although I still saw sparse black shadows in the clouds and mist in the distance, they seemed uninterested in me, a weak creature, and this also made me have another kind of doubt: if the apocalypse really arrived in this universe, could just a small number of monsters destroy the entire human civilization?

But I had no time to discuss such a grand question; I just wanted to rush to the hospital as soon as possible.

The good news was that before the sun sank below the horizon, I arrived at this abandoned hospital and found a series of medical supplies I might use, such as iodophor, hydrogen peroxide, bandages, cotton swabs, etc., in the treatment room on the 2nd floor.

This hospital wasn't large and looked like it had been around for a while. There were old-fashioned radiators installed in the corridor, and the slats of the blinds had fallen off in a mess, but there was no disgusting mucus here. On the 3rd floor, I also found a relatively cleaner ward. Perhaps I could sleep here tonight.

I started to bandage myself with those medical supplies. The little animal with sharp teeth and claws helped me a lot. After the tightness of the bandage was transmitted from my arm, I rarely felt a bit of security.

Great, I thought, when supplies are extremely scarce and people are in a difficult situation, finding exactly what you want can bring more comfort than I imagined.

And when I finished everything and arrived at the ward, through the gap in the curtains, I bid farewell to the last ray of sunset light today, leaned on the hospital bed, and waited for the darkness to descend. I really needed to have a good sleep.

After night fell, I felt a kind of sleepiness wash over me. I'm a person who can tolerate irregular schedules, but today I was sleepy unusually early. Fortunately, I wasn't hungry. I pulled the quilt on my body tight and lay down.

When I lay on the bed, sleepiness surged up in waves, but also receded in waves. I knew I needed sleep, but I couldn't fall asleep no matter what. Instinctively, I turned over, but hit the wound on my arm, hurting me so much I almost jumped up.

After tossing and turning for a long time, I finally felt a bit dazed, but at this moment, the tightness on my arm that brought me security became weaker and weaker. I thought the bandage had been wrapped loosely, which made me very uncomfortable, so I raised my arm to check the condition of the wound.

Unfortunately, blood seeped out again. I wanted to get up and re-bandage, but sleepiness pressed me firmly on the hospital bed like a pair of giant hands. My body was paralyzed, my head was dizzy, and the illusion in the haze made me convince myself that I wasn't that delicate. Sleep, and everything would be fine.

But the sweat produced while running soaked my clothes, sticking the already uncomfortable fabric to my skin. Every hair could feel that kind of damp heat, and a rhythmic "tap-tap" sound came from outside the window. I thought, maybe it was raining.

【The most comprehensive and best-to-use novel app for listening to books, integrating 4 major speech synthesis engines, over 100 timbres, and a source-changing artifact that supports offline reading, the source-changing app】

A late summer rain dragged me into an endless dream—the leaves of the monstera washed by the rain, the water flowing into the soil, the damp dark gray brick walls, and the "creaking" sound made when my father's oversized rain boots stepped over the threshold.

I dreamed of my childhood in Inglewood.

After my mother passed away, I was transferred through multiple foster families and finally abandoned in the orphanage of this small town in New Jersey. In my memory, all the time spent here was gray, like a photo left on the table and bleached by the sun.

After I moved my mother's grave here, I would always go to visit her after the first thunderstorm of late summer.

That kind of damp heat was heavier. I shouldn't have walked into the cemetery park wearing such a thick jacket. I was covered in sweat, or it could have been rain, but I endured this difficult dampness and stuffiness and came to my mother's grave.

When I saw the photo, I found that I missed her more than I imagined, but for some reason, her photo was covered with a thin layer of fog. I reached out a hand, wanting to wipe the dust off the photo.

But just as I reached out my hand, I felt my arm was very heavy. I turned my head and found that the sleeve of my jacket was caught by the branches of a shrub, so I reached out and started to deal with the difficult shrub.

Suddenly, in my peripheral vision, the fog covering the photo dissipated. My mother's eyes turned into two empty holes. I was so scared that I withdrew my hand and fell to the ground, but felt a pain in my arm.

When I woke up again, I found myself lying on the hospital bed. The even snoring of the little animal reminded me that this was reality, and the bandage on my injured arm had completely come undone.

When the skin was peeled off, the treated subcutaneous tissue presented a brownish-black color, and the blood squeezed out by countless broken blood vessels was stickily entangled together. When I saw it for the first time, I felt a kind of nausea from the bottom of my heart.

I took a few deep breaths and unwrapped another bandage to prepare to re-bandage. And when I finished everything and fell asleep again, a terrifying itch spread along my arm to half of my body.

Itchy, itchy, itchy...

I couldn't bear it anymore. My thoughts started to become chaotic, even manic. A terrifying anger lingered in my heart—why are you so itchy? Didn't I treat it in time? Why do you have to cause me trouble at this time? Am I not miserable enough?!

Between half-awake and half-asleep, my consciousness was frantically tearing everything apart. I was woken up by the little animal's scream. When I woke up again, it was another pile of bandages stained with blood and fragments of muscle tissue.

And when I saw my arm, I started to vomit frantically.

The current appearance of the wound was too disgusting. The blood on my other hand showed that I had not only unwrapped the bandage just now but was also frantically scratching it, making the medicine I had applied before, the dried blood, and the uncoagulated blood, and the flesh foam produced by scratching, all mixed into a ball.

I didn't feel pain, only nausea.

I felt my chest being pressed down, fixed to the ground and unable to move. Above my head was the iron plate with a curled-up corner and dark rust from the subway ceiling.

And when I turned my head, I found that the mucus that fixed me was secreted from the wound on my arm, and the insects that almost fell into my mouth were also vomited out from my stomach.

Something was about to come out from there.

When this terrifying thought appeared, I felt more pain all over my body, as if sharp hooked feet had pierced my skin. I became a pupa that was being broken through, a corpse chunk torn out with holes.

I could no longer resist the invasion of fear.

But clearer than fear was a kind of arrogance unique to humans.

There is nothing in this world that can be more noble than humans. This terrifying and arrogant thought expanded rapidly in my heart, making me realize that what is more terrifying than death is becoming a monster.

I am not even willing to become a member of the God race, so what could make me degenerate and become an ugly insect?

If someone wanted me to do that, I would tell him to get lost immediately.

The most praiseworthy thing about humanity is wisdom. If someone wants madness to replace reason, then I would rather abandon this already weak body to gain greatness in spirit—forever great.

I smashed the elbow joint completely with a concrete fragment and cut off all the fascia and muscles with a dagger. I cut off my lower arm.

The night passed, and it was dawn.

Those cowards got lost."

The ornate English script under the quill pen fell into the last arc. Schiller, who had written a long string of text in one breath, put down the pen and rubbed his somewhat sore wrists.

He looked up at the time. Three minutes before the agreed time, the door downstairs was knocked.

Schiller stood up, walked down the stairs, and opened the door of the small clinic. Appearing outside the door was Ma Te carrying a food box.

Ma Te raised the Japanese-style food box printed with cherry blossom patterns in his hand and shook the wine in his other hand, saying: "Last time I saw that you still quite like eating sashimi. Fresh mikan sea bream and Reiju ice wine, want some?"

"It seems you've made up your mind to bribe me." Schiller opened the clinic door and stepped aside to make way for the blind lawyer to enter.

The two walked to the sofa on the 1st floor and sat down. Ma Te opened the food box, and Schiller examined the bottle of beer. Ma Te set the plates while saying: "Last time I saw that you weren't very interested in sake, so I thought you liked sweeter wine."

"You're right about that. I'm a Port party. Only those picky old antiques would like sherry."

Schiller went to the kitchen to get two wine glasses and poured a glass for himself and Ma Te. Ma Te picked up his chopsticks, but before he could pick up any food, his hand hesitated and withdrew.

"I can see you're very worried. If you have anything to ask, just ask."

Ma Te pursed his lips and said: "I'm very worried about those kids, especially Spider-Man, whether he's Peter Parker or someone else."

"The knowing mother of Spider-Men, hmm?"

Ma Te laughed embarrassedly. Schiller handed him the wine glass and said: "It's not just one Spider-Man who has described Nick and you as parents. Compared to Nick's high demands on them, all Spider-Men like to come to Daredevil to tell their growth troubles."

"Don't say that, they are also willing to confide in you."

"But I haven't fulfilled a teacher's responsibility." Schiller tilted his head slightly and said: "At least not before."

"But..." Ma Te paused, showing a difficult expression, and then looked at Schiller with those lifeless eyes and said: "But even if you want to fulfill this duty, you don't have to..."

Schiller looked back at Ma Te and said.

"Since there is a part of my negligence in the laziness and lack of progress of the young heroes, then naturally I should try my best to make up for it, shouldn't I?"

"They actually still have progress..."

"The kind of progress where there's been no movement in the protests in one district of New York for two months?" ===== CHAPTER 1371 =====