Chapter 129: The Crisis Arrives

Chapter 129: Chapter 129: The Crisis Arrives

She led Philip Jensen, Ronald Lynn, and another team member into the living room.

Although Susan Webb had done her best to clean, a thick, metallic smell of blood still lingered in the air, impossible to completely disperse.

Philip Jensen’s sense of smell had been enhanced during the apocalypse, making it exceptionally keen. The moment he stepped inside, his expression shifted slightly. The amount of blood this suggested was no minor injury.

And when his gaze landed on Justin Brooks, lying on the floor atop a clean, makeshift sheet, all three of them—veteran soldiers and Players who had seen their share of hardship—couldn’t help but gasp. Shock was written all over their faces.

Justin Brooks was covered in bandages, but where his skin was exposed, they could see countless, meticulously stitched wounds, some of which were deep enough to reveal bone.

Most noticeable was his right leg, which had been carefully splinted and bandaged with an external fixator. Even so, they could imagine the gruesome state it must have been in before.

His face was paper-white, and his breathing was faint but steady. It was clear he had suffered a devastating injury and received what could only be described as miraculous emergency treatment.

"This..." Ronald Lynn stared at his teammate’s condition, his fists clenching instantly. His eyes filled with rage and anguish. "How could Captain Brooks get this hurt?!"

Philip Jensen knelt, carefully examining Justin Brooks’s injuries and the bandaging. The more he looked, the deeper the astonishment in his eyes grew.

Two things stood out to him. First, Justin Brooks’s injuries were incredibly severe. Second was the treatment they had received.

Without immediate medical intervention, Justin Brooks wouldn’t have survived this long.

’And the technique used... While some aspects seemed a bit amateurish, the suturing in critical areas, the hemostasis, and the reattachment of the severed limb were all handled with an unusual precision and efficiency. It was far beyond the capabilities of any ordinary person.’

Philip Jensen looked up at Susan Webb and asked, a note of confusion in his voice, "Miss Webb, who... who treated Captain Brooks’s injuries?"

A troubled expression crossed Susan Webb’s face.

’She had a feeling that Sullivan from across the hall, and especially her "boyfriend," Sean Chandler, didn’t want to reveal too much about his Abilities.’

’If it hadn’t been a matter of saving her son’s life, he likely never would have intervened.’

Seeing Miss Webb’s hesitation, Philip Jensen immediately understood the situation.

He softened his tone and explained, "Miss Webb, please don’t worry. The government is actively recruiting Players to help deal with this crisis. But even for those who don’t want to be recruited right now, we aren’t forcing anyone. All they need to do is complete a basic registration to log their identity and a general idea of their Abilities. It’s mainly for administrative purposes and to help us respond to emergencies. Of course, recruitment is ideal. We place great importance on and warmly welcome Players with special Abilities."

"Is that so? Justin, that boy... he never told me any of the details..." Susan Webb visibly relaxed, letting out a sigh of relief.

’If that’s the official stance, then telling them probably won’t cause any trouble for Sullivan.’

She finally spoke up. "Well, in that case, I won’t hide it from you. The one who treated my son’s injuries was Mr. Chandler, the boyfriend of Sullivan who lives next door. He must be... one of those Players you’re talking about. If he hadn’t stepped in when he did, using some... er... special methods, I’m afraid my Justin..."

At this, she recalled the horrific state her son was in when he’d first returned, and her voice choked with sobs and residual fear.

Nearby, Ronald Lynn seemed thoughtful.

He and Justin Brooks had come to this complex on a previous mission to conduct checks and registrations. He had a vague memory of Seraphina Sullivan’s apartment, the one with the unusually fortified security door.

"Oh, it’s her," Ronald Lynn recalled. "She has a boyfriend now?" He remembered the apartment being occupied by just one young woman.

Susan Webb nodded. "That’s right. Chandler just came over when this heavy rain started. He was probably worried about Sullivan living by herself and came to protect her. It really isn’t safe to live alone these days. Before this, several apartments in our complex were hit by thieves. Those robbers were practically looting in broad daylight..."

Philip Jensen took in the information and nodded. "I see. Let’s put that aside for now. Treating Justin Brooks is the priority."

He knelt and pulled a small, sealed box from his tactical backpack. Inside were several tubes of ointment that gave off a faint, cooling scent, along with an injector.

"This is a special healing salve I got from the last apocalypse instance. It works wonders on external wounds and speeds up recovery."

As he spoke, he carefully began to unwrap some of Justin Brooks’s bandages, preparing to apply new medicine and provide more professional follow-up care.

As he lifted the bandage, it revealed a poultice of emerald-green herbal mud underneath, slightly soaked with blood and tissue fluid. A faint, yet distinct, clean fragrance wafted from it.

Philip Jensen froze for a moment. He was surprised that the person had not only treated the wounds but had also managed to produce such a seemingly primitive herbal remedy that nonetheless contained a special Energy for the initial treatment.

This level of care and preparedness made his estimation of the "Mr. Chandler" he had yet to meet rise even higher. He would remember this favor.

The government-issued high-grade medicine was, as expected, more potent and direct.

Philip Jensen skillfully applied a pale blue, gel-like ointment to several of Justin Brooks’s worst wounds, paying special attention to the newly reattached leg. Then, he gave him an injection of a cell-regeneration stimulant.

The Effect of the medicine was almost instantaneous.

The redness and swelling around Justin Brooks’s wounds began to recede at a visible rate. New granulation tissue grew and healed rapidly, as if infused with limitless vitality. Most impressively, a slight tingling itch emanated from the point where his leg had been reattached—a clear sign that bone and nerve were rapidly repairing!

Under such potent treatment, Justin Brooks, who had fallen into a deep coma from blood loss and excruciating pain, let out a low groan. His eyelids fluttered a few times before he slowly opened his eyes.

"I... what happened to me?"

He spoke weakly, his gaze unfocused as he looked blankly at the teammates and his anxious yet relieved mother gathered around him.

After a moment of disorientation, however, his last memories from the instance flooded his mind like a tidal wave.

The terrifying Insectoid Monster, the criminal’s actions, and that... thing that would be extremely dangerous if brought into the real world!

"Oh no!"

Justin Brooks’s expression changed drastically. He ignored the fact he had just woken up and was severely injured, trying to sit up. "That Player! He definitely brought that item back to the real world! We have to stop him!"

The sudden movement tugged at the wounds all over his body, sending a tearing pain through him and forcing a grunt from his lips.

It was only then that he belatedly realized something.

’My leg... it was supposed to be gone, but... I can feel it! It’s... it’s still attached?!’

The sudden realization made his brain short-circuit, and he froze mid-motion.

Philip Jensen quickly pushed him back down. "Justin! Calm down! You’re seriously injured. Even though you’ve been treated, you absolutely cannot move right now!"

Philip Jensen’s tone was stern but concerned. "What happened in there? How did you get hurt so badly? And what is this ’item’ you’re talking about?"