Trash that cannot be recycled has two most common disposal methods: incineration and landfill.
Meteor City truly lives up to its 1500-year history as a dump. The ground is piled high with garbage, and the underground quantity is equally considerable, exceeding the soil itself. It’s hard to imagine how Illumi managed to conduct guerrilla warfare in such terrain, or rather, a more fitting analogy would be *The Shawshank Redemption* (laughs).
In *The Shawshank Redemption*, the protagonist, over many years in his cell, persistently dug a tunnel to escape prison. The most difficult part of the tunnel was the final sewage pipe, requiring him to crawl through excrement and wastewater—an experience not for the faint of heart.
Ah, compared to that, traversing through non-recyclable trash and highly polluted soil seems like a slightly better experience.
Following the tunnel, Illumi led me to the cell where he was being held.
A standard ankle restraint is not difficult to remove with bare hands. I casually discarded it in the tunnel.
The prisoners in this section had already agreed to cause trouble. The cell doors were wide open, and chaos was ensuing. Illumi, unconcerned, held my hand, which was clutching the whistle, and instead of rushing out with the crowd, he led me in the opposite direction.
To suppress the prisoners, the guardroom was deserted. Illumi yanked off the iron bars from the window—the power of his tonnage-class wrists was truly useful. We squeezed through the window, navigated a corridor, and entered one of the rooms. With a leaping ability that defied “realistic world” physics, we jumped up, pulled off the ventilation pipe cover from the ceiling, and crawled through the ventilation pipes to escape the arena.
Oh, while some of the actions were unscientific, isn’t this a standard action movie escape scenario? Thrilling.
Merely escaping the arena was not enough. We immediately ran to the edge of Zone 4. Practicing with the electric fence for leveling up hadn't been in vain (I was truly far-sighted). By taking turns, we quickly pulled a hole large enough for us to pass through the slightly over-the-top electric fence, then painstakingly restored the fence to its original state before running forward again.
But where could we go?
Meteor City isn't small, but it's not exactly large either. In the "realistic world," it's equivalent to the area of Shanghai. If one were to search for someone in Meteor City, this area wouldn't pose a significant challenge for a carpet search.
"Never fight an unprepared battle" is one of the Zoldyck family's mottos. I thought that if Illumi could retrieve the whistle, he would surely have made preparations for a retreat and wouldn't act rashly.
He led me through the streets of Zone 5. Zone 5 is a commercial district, and many shops were still open at night. The shop lights intermittently illuminated the road, creating a somewhat warm atmosphere reminiscent of an ordinary shopping street. However, Illumi didn't stop at any of the shops, instead halting in front of a two-story standalone building.
"This is the Zone 5 administrator's residence," Illumi said, tightening his grip on my hand slightly. "I heard that if you can complete the administrator's task, they provide treatment and shelter."
"There were other options, but..." Illumi continued, "Sister, your hands are too cold. You need treatment."
Snatched from the grasp of an elite monster came with a price. A rather deep gash was now on my back. Despite its strength, this body had its limits, and my consciousness was already starting to blur.
Alas, I underestimated this wound. I shouldn't have left with Illumi. Otherwise, I might have succeeded in dying a glorious death in the arena. No, that wasn't certain; perhaps Phinks would have intervened, repeating my previous hospital visit history... Who knows? In any case, it would have required luck.
I shook my head and handed Illumi a roll of spare bandages from my pocket.
Entering an unfamiliar map in a poor condition is never a good option. I didn't want to be a burden, so I decided to try and hold on. In movies, the hardest part for a heavily wounded character is the first night; once you get through that, it's usually smooth sailing, right?
[Unyielding Spirit: Level 1]
Huh? A new skill.
Judging by its literal meaning, it was probably awakened from fighting while injured for a long time.
The awakening of a new skill often signifies a turning point. Yes, I don't need treatment; I can endure this.
I grabbed Illumi's shoulder and shook my head at him. He still pulled me to the door and rang the doorbell.
Fine, even though his character setting is "my" biological younger brother, he never listens to me. He has his own ideas and doesn't consider my feelings. He's an utterly terrible person.
Tsk, why did Silva, who seems so normal, raise such a "good son" as Illumi? Is Illumi truly his biological son?
The pink-haired little girl who answered the door reminded me of the little girl who answered the door in Zone 6. In other words, they were both very cute.
"Hello, we're here to seek help from the administrator," Illumi said.
"This is not a charity," the girl, who was about Illumi's height and likely his age, replied with a surprisingly adult-like cold demeanor.
"Yes, I know. I can complete the administrator's tasks," Illumi stated with certainty. "We reached here from Zone 4 by our own means."
"The arena?" the girl discerned the origin of our attire.
"Yes."
"You want shelter..." the girl paused, "and treatment?"
"Yes."
"Follow me," the girl instructed, telling us to wipe our shoes on the doormat before stepping aside to let us in.
The Zone 5 administrator's residence looked no different from slightly better residences outside Meteor City. However, within Meteor City, a dwelling of this caliber was quite good, especially being two stories.
The girl led us directly to the second floor and knocked on the third door at the stairwell landing. "Excuse me, Mr. Fran, someone needs your help."
"Alright," came a relatively young male voice from inside. The girl stepped back, and we, standing behind her, followed suit.
The door opened from the inside, revealing a man under thirty, wearing half-rimmed glasses and with light blonde hair. My gaze passed over his shoulder, and I saw a large bookshelf lined with books in his room... The door closed, and I couldn't see more.
As the girl reported our purpose, the man studied us, looking down.
He was tall, over 1.8 meters. The significant height difference made him seem like a deity looking down upon mortals.
At this moment, his decision could dictate our fate for the night. It wasn't wrong to temporarily consider him a "deity."
Perhaps it was my preconception, but after all, an administrator of a relatively high-ranking district wouldn't be ordinary. Regardless, I sensed a dangerous aura from him. His eyes were of different colors: one blue, the other green.
Illumi also sensed the man's danger, gripping my hand tightly.
"..." It felt like I had entered a formidable high-difficulty dungeon. It was all Illumi's fault for not listening to my opinion.
"Remove the bandages from your face," the man said. "Strangers obscuring their faces can seem suspicious, don't you think?"
Illumi released my hand, allowing me to comfortably remove the bandages from my face.
After examining me, the man said, "Alright, I can take you in for now."
"Why?" Illumi asked.
"Didn't you claim you could complete my task?" the man added. "Even if you fail, I won't be at a loss by keeping a hostage."
Huh?
So, my fate rested entirely on Illumi? Illumi, can you handle this?!
Oh, at worst, the Zoldyck family might have to intervene later. However, the situation regarding my life as a hostage during that period is uncertain. We're here now, so whatever happens, happens.
Illumi had cut my face, and I had rolled in the corrosive stomach fluids of the beast in the arena. Although I had no mirror to confirm, I knew my current appearance wouldn't incite criminal impulses.
My additional value as a hostage might be for organ sales or some dark, twisted fate involving torture.
The basement the man led us to certainly leaned towards that kind of story route, which frightened me.
A cold operating room, an even colder operating table—no, rather than an operating table, it resembled a table for dissecting corpses. I saw a blood collection trough.
"..." I don't fear death, but I fear pain.
I tightened my grip on Illumi's hand.
"Don't worry, Sister, I'm here with you," Illumi encouraged me.
How ominous. Even Illumi was starting to speak humanely.
As a result, I felt no strong emotion upon hearing the man call the girl "Machi." Incidentally, Machi is a future member of the Phantom Troupe in the original work. Encountering plot characters again... I don't care about that. I need to take care of myself first!
The man, wearing a mask and a lab coat, entered his work mode, gesturing for me to sit on the operating table. Then, he reached out to the side, saying, "Scissors."
So, "providing treatment" meant he would do it himself.
Machi immediately picked up the medical scissors from the shelf near the operating table and handed them to the man.
The shelf had three tiers, filled with various medical instruments, looking both professional and unsettling—sometimes these items were also effective torture tools.
Most of the blood on me had dried, and my clothes were stuck to my skin, so they had to be cut open directly before treating the wound.
Recalling the suffocating conversation between Illumi and Phinks in the infirmary over two months ago, despite the element of rivalry, I felt it was inappropriate to let Illumi watch me undress. Besides, his presence wouldn't be of much help here; his strength was inferior to the man before me.
If the man, on a whim, decided to vivisect me in front of Illumi, Illumi would be powerless against him.
Hmph, useless Illumi.
I turned my head to look at the man, then at Illumi, and gestured to Illumi with my hand.
"You don't need to stay," I mouthed.
"?" Illumi tilted his head in confusion.
No use acting cute, get lost.
"I don't want you to watch. You should go outside now," I mouthed.
"...My sister is a bit timid," Illumi said to the man. "May I hold her hand?"
"..." Good heavens! You're just bullying me because I'm mute, aren't you!
"No," the man flatly refused.
Well done! Mr. Fran, well done! A hundred thumbs up!
"...Is it alright?" It was Machi who spoke up.
Uh, is this what they call a cold exterior but a warm heart?
"In the way," Fran stated, unmoved, and ordered Illumi out. "Unrelated personnel, please go outside and do not disturb my work."
Bullied the weak and feared the strong, no, it was "a wise person knows when to bend" Illumi who obediently retreated from the operating room.
There were some barbs from the spider legs stuck in the wound on my back. After examining them, Fran likely deemed them minor issues not worth his personal attention or too troublesome, so he had Machi remove them one by one with tweezers.
Those barbs were as fine as strands of hair, and there were quite a few of them. Machi took a considerable amount of time to remove them all. During this time, Fran checked my other wounds and asked if I felt any discomfort. I responded with a shake of my head, and he concluded that there were no major issues, leaving the rest of the work to Machi.
He seemed more interested in the removed barbs. Compared to the meticulous doctors of the Zoldyck family, I felt he was not very reliable.
Don't expect too much; having medical sutures would be good enough. Think about the thread used in churches.
Ordinary sutures are not biodegradable and must be removed later. The sensation of pulling threads out of flesh one by one is as refreshing as removing the barbs now.
Speaking of which, this world is indeed unscientific. Despite the extremely basic medical conditions in Meteor City, the wounds I had previously stitched up left no scars. Oh, perhaps the Zoldyck family's robust physique also contributed to this.
Using the mirror-like metal operating table, I gathered my courage and saw that my face only had a few new minor injuries, further proving the wonders of this other world. My mood instantly improved, and the pain of wound suturing without anesthesia lessened accordingly.
Machi carefully disinfected and re-bandaged all my wounds. Her movements were gentle. She's truly a good girl. When I read the original work in the "realistic world," among the Phantom Troupe members, I liked her character the most (because she was pretty). I couldn't help but write "Thank you" in her palm.
Fran's room had so many books; as his assistant, Machi should be literate from being exposed to them, right?
"It's nothing," she replied.
My guess was correct; she was literate. I could communicate with her through writing, which was much better than my illiterate roommate. Excellent!
The long-sleeved hospital gown was an adult size; the top covered my knees, eliminating the need for pants. I rolled up the sleeves to my wrists. Machi opened the operating room door to let Illumi in for his treatment.
Illumi looked at my face, now free of bandages, and I looked at the bloodstains on his clothes.
The treatment procedure for bruises and sprains is largely the same. The condition was simple, and the technical skill required was not high. Machi still handled it, with the only difference being the presence of the patient's family member (laughs) this time.
The meaning of "men and women are different" is that a woman trespassing in a men's restroom is trespassing, while a man trespassing in a women's restroom is a pervert. Therefore, I坦荡荡地 watched Illumi remove his shirt, seeing the various depths of scars on his body. I wondered how much experience he had accumulated in the arena. My level couldn't fall behind, otherwise, he'd bully me with impunity later. Damned Illumi, he's a scumbag who doesn't pity the weak, only oppresses them.
Perhaps it was considering that we were likely wanted by Zone 4, or more likely, it was the standard hospitality here, but we were housed in single patient rooms on the second basement level. The narrow two-square-meter rooms had just enough space for a bed, leaving only a walkway. The doors were metal, with grated ventilation windows. Rather than patient rooms, they were more like cells. The only advantage was the beds; the conditions were much better than the arena.
"The doors won't be locked, but you are not allowed to leave this floor for now, nor open the room at the very end," Machi instructed before leaving. "And don't try to escape. Mr. Fran wouldn't be pleased."
As soon as she left, we checked all the rooms within sight. They were all uniform single patient rooms and one common restroom. The single rooms were like copy-pasted RPG game assets, looking identical. Inside, all rooms were spotlessly clean except for the bed, which had bedding and pillows on the beds in mine and Illumi's rooms. The beds in the other patient rooms were just bare bed frames.
If this game allowed saving, I would definitely check what was in the room at the very end that was prohibited from opening. Unfortunately, this game doesn't have a save function, and I dared not try anything rash. Dead ends aren't scary; it's a "worse than death" Bad Ending that's terrifying.
"Although I'm also curious, it's best not to take that risk, Sister," Illumi said, pulling me away from the corridor.
Returning to my single patient room, considering the sutured wound on my back, I chose to sleep on my stomach.
Illumi walked up to me and handed me the whistle he had temporarily kept in his pants pocket.
As my hand touched the whistle, Illumi closed his fingers, bringing the whistle and my fingers together in his palm. "When you were hesitating to leave the arena with me, Sister, what were you thinking?"
What?
My gaze shifted from the whistle to his inorganic black eyes, "...?"
"What did you feel reluctant to leave behind in the arena, Sister?" Illumi's expression remained his usual emotionless one, but his grip gradually tightened. "Such a terrible environment is definitely not something you'd like, so what else could have made you hesitate? Perhaps the animals in the arena? You've always loved animals since you were little."
"..." Bringing up my beloved animals undoubtedly hit a nerve. I frowned, wanting to abandon the whistle and pull my hand out of his.
Illumi, using both hands, held my right hand. "Or perhaps it was 'someone else,' Sister?"
"..." Settling accounts?
"Could it be that guy who gave you a blood transfusion?" Illumi pulled up my arm, staring at the inner side of my elbow, the common site for intravenous transfusions. "That's really unpleasant."
" Sister, he didn't touch any places he shouldn't have, right?" Illumi asked. "You haven't forgotten the common sense taught at home, have you?"
"Get lost," was the only word I mouthed back.
"Then, Sister, get some rest early. Good night."
He actually listened and left immediately, which shocked me immensely.
I was so stunned that I forgot to ask him to leave the whistle. Oh well, I was only wearing a hospital gown top, with no pockets. The whistle no longer had a chain, so I couldn't hang it around my neck. I couldn't just hold it all the time.
It would be inconvenient to keep it with me. The Zoldyck eldest son should have the ability to keep the whistle safe; he was the one who got it back, wasn't he?
Hmph, good for him.
Meryl's favorability towards Illumi +1
Meryl's total favorability towards Illumi: -997