Doomsday Spiritual Artifact Master-Chapter 18.1: Rainy Night in Hua City (10)
Chapter 18.1 – Rainy Night in Hua City (10)
◎You won’t leave me, will you?◎
In Hua City No.1 Middle School, at the storm-proof, enclosed stadium.
A variety of objects formed piles resembling small mountains, filling the entire equipment room. Song Ke had only mentioned the need for materials, the more the better, without specifying any particular type. As a result, apart from heavy objects used to block the door, everyone brought over anything they could carry.
Kongzi Qi set down the last basketball storage basket and leaned towards Tian Yi, draping his arm around Tian Yi’s neck.
As they approached Song Ke, before they could speak, Kongzi Qi gave a thumbs-up with a grin, “Awesome! Even though this might be a little unfair to Princess Zhou, I still want to say, it’s so satisfying!”
Tian Yi, caught in Kongzi Qi’s grasp, flailed his limbs in the air, struggling to break free. He kicked Kongzi Qi hard in the heel, and Kongzi Qi let go, clutching his foot while hopping and wailing, like an agile flamingo.
Despite their daily play-fighting, their relationship was actually quite good.
“By the way, Song Ke, Tian Yi asked me to ask you what those flying things that went ‘swoosh swoosh swoosh’ just now were. They were so cool!”
“Kongzi Qi, you were the one who wanted to ask in the first place, so why blame me?” Tian Yi retorted indignantly.
“Oh come on, isn’t it the same if you ask or I ask?” Kongzi Qi chuckled, then leaned closer to Tian Yi’s ear, whispering, “You’re quite close to her, huh~”
Song Ke didn’t keep it a secret either, taking something out of her pocket. It was a thin blade, as thin as paper, about seven inches long, resembling a willow leaf. A bright red silk was tied to its end. In the dim indoor light, the blade’s surface was covered with a faint blue glow.
Kongzi Qi let out a whistle and his eyes lit up.
“For you.” Seeing how much he liked it, Song Ke handed him the throwing knife generously.
“Really? Well then, I won’t hold back!” Kongzi Qi was ecstatic and accepted it without hesitation. Joking aside, there was no need for hesitation. This wasn’t an ordinary throwing knife; it was a legendary supernatural throwing knife! It could cut through iron like mud and hit the target every time. Even if he didn’t know how to use it, it was still great for warding off evil spirits.
“Song Ke, are you really leaving?” Tian Yi asked in a low voice from the side.
“Yeah, once Zhuang Qingyan gets better… then I’ll leave.”
Tian Yi’s tone held a hint of reluctance as he murmured, “Oh.” He was a reserved person, unable to voice his thoughts within the safe zone. Even Jiang Rui couldn’t convince Song Ke, and coupled with Xu Liren’s silent approval, it seemed that Song Ke’s departure was an unchangeable outcome.
After Kongzi Qi and Tian Yi had moved the things, they closed the door and left, leaving only Song Ke in the spacious equipment room.
Faced with a room full of equipment, Song Ke’s expression turned focused. She placed her hand on the nearest metal rack, and in an instant, the rack—nearly two meters high—vanished on the spot, transforming into three brand-new entrenching shovels. This process continued with the second and third items…
Like a meticulously organized assembly line, a large number of standardized weapons lined up in perfect order under Song Ke’s guidance, revealing their imposing momentum.
At the same time, connected to over a hundred spiritual tools, Song Ke accelerated the drainage of her abilities, and the immense spiritual energy gradually became insufficient, reaching its limit. With a thought, she severed her connection with this portion of energy.
Almost instantly, Song Ke realized that she had lost her connection with these spiritual tools.
This was her first attempt at cutting off spiritual energy. She gazed at the entrenching shovels in her hands, pondered for a moment, and released her spiritual energy again. After a few seconds, the newly formed spiritual tools were destroyed and dissipated, but the spiritual energy within them didn’t return to her body.
After severing the connection, did the spiritual energy become unidirectional and unable to be retrieved?
In this way, these spiritual tools no longer required her effort to sustain them. While their power might decrease, they would be more easily circulated. Song Ke had left a safeguard; she discreetly marked each handle of the spiritual tools. Based on their natural rate of consumption, the energy within this batch of spiritual tools could last for about 2 to 3 years before depleting and causing the tools to shatter and vanish.
One hundred weapons. Although this wasn’t her current limit to bear, the enormous energy consumption over a short period had still put a considerable burden on her. Counting the shimmering spiritual tools on the floor, Song Ke slowly rested and drank water, recovering her exhausted mental energy.
Considering the users were a group of high school students with no combat training, she only transformed two types of weapons: machetes and entrenching shovels. These two types of cold weapons were easy to handle and versatile, suitable for both defense and offense, especially effective against zombies.
There were people guarding outside the equipment room. When Song Ke emerged, several key members of the safe zone walked over to her and entered the room to tally the quantity. Song Ke didn’t move. One hundred weapons, no more, no less—she had handed them over. How to distribute them was an internal matter for them.
The male student responsible for tallying came out and nodded at Xu Liren, who stood behind, “Teacher Xu, it’s all here.”
With the deal completed, Song Ke couldn’t be bothered with the insincere conversations and left without looking back.
On the other side, treatment for Zhuang Qingyan was underway, but the situation wasn’t going smoothly. Zhou Anqi seemed a bit queasy at the sight of blood. Zhuang Qingyan’s broken leg was terrifyingly misshapen. Just looking at it made her turn pale, and she often had to stop to cover her mouth and rush to the side to vomit.
Song Ke brought over a stool, sat in front of her, and stared for a while. Unexpectedly, she grabbed Zhou Anqi’s wrist, and Zhou Anqi tried to pull away instinctively. But Song Ke’s strength was too great—her grip was as unyielding as steel claws.
Just now, she had been intimidated by force. The tremble of fear from Song Ke hadn’t yet dissipated within her. Even though she was reluctant, she dared not confront this ominous figure recklessly. All she could do was put on a pretense of strength and ask, “What, what do you want?!”
Song Ke’s expression grew cold as she shifted her gaze to Zhuang Qingyan in the wheelchair. If you ignored his excessively pallid face, his features were still handsome, even at a time like this. However, from the knee down, his half-twisted, deformed leg ruined that perfection.
“Why is it… like this?”
Perhaps her gaze was too terrifying, Zhou Anqi’s teeth were chattering, “I’ve already stopped the bleeding for him and tried to help the wound heal as much as possible. His leg… his leg… it can only be like this. To be honest, just keeping him alive is an achievement!”
From the surface, the wound on Zhuang Qingyan’s right leg had indeed healed. However, when you touched it, it was soft and feeble. Inside, the broken bones were jagged and irregular, causing the lower leg to remain curled up.
“Did you do this, this on purpose?”
Zhou Anqi, overlooking her fear, stood up angrily, “Song Ke! Stop spouting nonsense! This has nothing to do with me. His leg is broken like crushed ice. I’m not a doctor. How would I know how to set it? Besides, my spiritual energy was automatically absorbed when it came into contact with him. I couldn’t… control…” Her words raced ahead of her thoughts, and she realized she had said too much, regretting it instantly as she bit her lip.
Couldn’t control her spiritual energy.
Song Ke keenly grasped the key point and formed a conclusion in her mind. It seemed that her ability was insufficient; she hadn’t intentionally tampered with the treatment.
Staying here any longer was pointless. Song Ke arranged Zhuang Qingyan’s pants, pushed his wheelchair, and prepared to leave.
Zhou Anqi timidly chased after her from behind, “I’ve already saved him. So when are you going to… leave?”
“Tomorrow, check on him again.”
“Why should I?!”
Song Ke looked at her expressionlessly.
In a space imperceptible to ordinary people, a domineering surge of spiritual energy swept forth like an overwhelming tide. Zhou Anqi’s hair stood on end, and she quickly yielded, “I, I understand!”
*
Zhuang Qingyan felt like he was traversing through a cold mist, surrounded by countless indistinct faces. They stared at him gloomily, closing in slowly and urgently, reaching out with pairs of hands to grab his legs, clutching his throat, covering his mouth, dragging him into an endless swamp, sinking together into oblivion. Just before suffocation, he suddenly opened his eyes—
His vision gradually focused. Song Ke held a tissue in her hand, less than an inch away from his nose.
Zhuang Qingyan’s eyes turned icy, and his reflex made him want to wave her hand away. But he quickly realized this action contradicted the “image” he had crafted. He paused for a moment, then softened the corners of his eyes, crafting a feeble yet handsome smile.
Song Ke didn’t mind, and she hadn’t even noticed his subtle change of expression. Seeing him awake, she tossed the tissue at him, “Zhou Anqi has already, already treated you. How are you feeling now?”
Zhuang Qingyan lowered his head to look at his leg. The same oppressive feeling, like a bone abscess, returned. He soon sensed something was wrong. His entire right leg, from ankle to knee, felt as though it had been injected with a heavy dose of inferior anesthesia. Nerve cells were dead, meridians paralyzed, devoid of any sensation, and stiff like a crude prosthetic castoff.
Zhuang Qingyan’s eyelashes quivered as he braced himself on the wheelchair, attempting to stand up.
“Clang—” After losing a leg, maintaining balance became nearly impossible. He lost his center of gravity, tilting and crashing heavily to the ground.
Worthless.
He clenched his fist, silently spitting out the word in his heart.
Enduring a whole day with his injured leg, Zhuang Qingyan was well aware that his situation was far from optimistic, requiring prompt treatment. Although he had taken a risk by betting his life, he was fairly confident that Song Ke would save him. As expected, he won the bet.
However, he had overestimated “Zhou Anqi’s” ability. This newly awakened healing-type ability user likely didn’t even possess a D-level power. And what’s more, she turned out to be an utter medical imbecile, merely focused on sewing up the surface of the skin, giving no thought to the underlying structure of flesh and bone. Consequently, he had truly been reduced to a cripple!
Worthless.
He clenched the wheelchair handles tightly and repeated the word in his heart, not knowing if he was cursing Zhou Anqi or himself.
Song Ke didn’t help him up. Zhuang Qingyan lowered his head, and the veins on the back of his hands strained. She couldn’t clearly discern his expression at the moment.
“Zhou Anqi’s ability is for stopping bleeding and wound healing, but her control is very poor. She doesn’t know how to set bones.”
She pursed her lips and revealed her plans: “She’ll check on you again tomorrow, then we’ll leave.”
“What? Is this the condition for saving me?” Zhuang Qingyan supported himself to sit back in the wheelchair and responded coldly.
He was always clever, quickly inferring the implied meaning in Song Ke’s words.
“Yeah.” Song Ke briefly explained the events leading up to the exchange using spiritual tools. Her use of force against Zhou Anqi in front of Xu Liren could be seen as a last resort, completely burning bridges with the safe zone. Staying here any longer would likely pose hidden risks. Even if Zhou Anqi hadn’t made any demands, Song Ke had intended to leave anyway.
Furthermore, her original intention for coming here was solely to gather information on awakeners. After encountering Zhuang Qingyan, these issues were essentially resolved for her.
“Before we leave… kill them.”
Zhuang Qingyan listened and lightly uttered these words.
His face carried a smile that wasn’t quite a smile, and that casual bloodthirst from when they first met, the one that had led him to kill two people without a second thought, resurfaced. “Kill them, and you won’t have that much trouble. Go wherever you want, no one can order you around.”