Guys, I'm sorry cause I absolutely forgot to post this chapter here, was busy last week and days since my finals started, thank you for reading me.
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POV Isao Tsumugi
He kicked the clinic door open, nearly sending it flying off its hinges, then stepped inside and instantly neutralized the zombies within using a high-speed projectile sphere.
"Meh... everything here is covered in blood and... crap." He muttered the last word as he looked at the corpse of a teenager lying by the reception desk. The kid had definitely lost control of his bowels, judging by the sizable dried puddle. "Ugh, what a stench!" Exhaling and trying to breathe only through his mouth, he looked around. He saw several doors behind the reception and a corridor leading... somewhere, likely to the patient wards. One of the doors was marked "Staff Only," so he headed there immediately.
The clinic was a two-story building, but quite small, so he knew it wouldn't take long to find what Shizuka needed for the blood transfusions.
Opening the door, he wasn't surprised to find the office in shambles. The window was open, and it was clear someone bleeding out had jumped through it. With a light crunch of broken glass vials underfoot, he began opening a row of cabinets. He didn't find much besides clothes and bags; it seemed to be a locker room where employees changed before work.
"Alright, then..." I stepped out, pinched my nose, rounded the reception desk, and headed down the corridor. I passed a staircase I hadn't noticed at first—no matter, I'd check the second floor after I finished here.
Opening the first of three doors in the hallway, I found myself in... a donor room. No zombies, just rows of chairs next to square white machines with screens—likely dead due to the EMP. I headed toward two cabinets in the corner.
I opened the frosted glass door and saw a variety of items: packaged syringes, bags, tourniquets, a dozen 250-300 ml bottles (likely disinfectant), bandages, and gloves.
Hmm... did I come here alone for nothing? I can't carry all this in my hands, and like an idiot, I didn't bring a backpack... though...
I pointed my palm at the floor and, focusing, created a massive aluminum crate, about 1.5 by 1.5 meters. I'd adjust the height as I went. I started tossing everything from the shelves into the box.
Eventually, every cabinet in that room was stripped bare. I didn't leave a single thing on the shelves because everything that caught my eye was outlined in a faint white glow. My Magpies Eyes were responsible for spotting valuables, so trusting my Gacha, I tossed everything into the box while humming a tune.
I then moved to the next room, which was almost identical, but with full hospital beds instead of chairs. The difference was that several beds held corpses with missing chunks of their skulls—at least they wouldn't turn into zombies.
No zombies left, right? To be sure, I focused... and felt nothing. As I thought, most zombies, except the few in the lobby, had cleared out. I didn't see much reason for it—their brains are the size of peas—but they probably followed the chaos and noise from yesterday.
I repeated the process from the previous room, tossing everything glowing white into the crate. I wasn't doing it blindly; every item had its designated spot within the box's boundaries. I didn't want to break the glass pipettes, did I? I wasn't worried about them breaking just from being in the crate, as my confidence in the precision of my telekinesis was rock solid.
Finishing the third room, I stepped out, and the crate—now significantly heavier—floated smoothly in the air behind me.
Entering the next door, I found myself in... a reception area? A doctor's office? More the latter. A simple desk and chair, filing cabinets, a computer—everything you'd find in an office where a doctor consults with patients.
Scanning the surfaces and opening the drawers, I realized... almost nothing in this room was glowing. There was nothing of real value here. Still, hoping for a lucky find, I sat at the desk and went through all the drawers—nothing but papers, pens, and crumpled junk.
Sighing in disappointment, I stood up and headed for the exit. Honestly, I don't know what I expected from a standard office in a blood clinic.
I headed back down the hall and turned left at the stairs, walking up to the second floor at a leisurely pace. Once there, I noticed four doors marked "Staff Only." I knew the good stuff had to be here.
According to Shizuka, these clinics usually have a laboratory for tests, a medical storage room, and a cold room for blood bags, plasma, and erythrocytes. I assumed three of the rooms were those, while the fourth was probably a breakroom.
I headed toward the nearest door and tried to open it—locked. The glass panel was frosted so I couldn't see inside. Without overthinking, I used the metal sphere I'd been using as a projectile to smash the handle. The sound of grinding plastic made me grit my teeth; I hate that sound, like a fork on a chalkboard.
I nudged the door open with a finger. The lock mechanism fell to the floor, revealing a laboratory.
Hmm... almost everything in this room was glowing white. Some things more intensely than others, indicating their relative usefulness. Most of the desk equipment had a dim glow—likely because the EMP had fried their internal wiring—except for the microscopes and various hand tools.
After a quick stretch, I resumed my "heist," carefully packing everything into the crate, which I enlarged and segmented further. It took quite a while because everything seemed to be highlighted. Every time I thought I was done, I'd turn around and see something else glowing white.
I spent over twenty minutes packing everything. Even though I was being efficient with space, the crate filled up fast, forcing me to seal off layers with metal sheets and create new "floors." By the time I was done, the crate was much larger than its original 1.5-meter size.
I left the dimly glowing, fried equipment behind. Sure, some might be repairable, but who has the time or the expertise right now? Exactly: nobody. We have enough work at the Mall.
I moved to the second door. It was also locked, so I repeated the "lock-breaking" procedure. Inside was a small room lined with refrigerators. Through the glass doors, I saw metal shelves holding dozens of bags. Most were red, some were golden, and some were a darker orange-yellow.
Before I left, Shizuka had explained what to take and their storage requirements. Erythrocytes (the red ones) die within 30 minutes outside a fridge and need to be kept around 2-3°C. Platelets (the dark yellow/orange ones) are even more sensitive, needing 20-24°C, and spoil faster.
The third type was what we needed: Plasma, the golden-colored bags. I looked at the fridge labeled "Plasma." These needed to be kept below -18°C. Shizuka said they might survive a few hours after the power went out, but I had a concern.
Where the hell would we store the Erythrocytes and Platelets? They need specific machines to maintain those temperatures, and those machines were dead. Plasma only needed a cold environment, which I could provide. So, I decided the other two weren't worth the trouble; I couldn't keep them from spoiling anyway.
I pointed at the floor and created another crate, identical to the first. Once it was formed, I focused and gripped the air, as if holding the hilt of a sword.
Suddenly, I felt the comfortable cold of the Ice Sword's hilt in my palm. Its weight was slight, but enough to make my hand dip a few centimeters before I pulled it up.
The sword was a glowing blue. The blade was a lighter tone than the hilt, reflecting the ambient light. It was long, with a tip curved like a scimitar, yet the blade itself was thin. The guard was a wide, cross-shaped design with two "wings." I held it as if it had been forged specifically for me.
Holding it, I felt an icy storm stir in my soul—not a full blizzard, but a distant, swirling force ready to punish those who think ice is weak.
Exhaling a cloud of cold vapor, I poked the center of the new crate with the sword and willed the interior to freeze. After a few seconds, frost began to spread from the center, creating intricate patterns. Soon, the crate was filled with ice.
With a silent, air-cutting flourish, I sent the sword back to my inventory and got to work. I moved more than a dozen bags of plasma into the ice-filled crate. It took less than ten minutes. Once finished, I stretched my arms and sealed the crate with a metal sheet.
Leaving the empty fridge doors open, I went to the next room—the medical supply closet. I broke the lock and walked in. Everything in this room was glowing!
There were too many items to carry, so I just grabbed what I hadn't found in the previous rooms and added them to the first crate. It was a monotonous process: check if I had it, if yes—leave it, if no—pack it. By the time I finished, I was exhausted by the sheer volume of "stuff." I sealed the crate, hoping my work as a "clinic looter" was done.
I checked the last door—a combined kitchen and breakroom. I shrugged and left. I wasn't hungry or thirsty; I just wanted to get back to base and take a nap.
I headed down to the first floor and exited the building. Five steps outside, a screen appeared.
[Loot the Blood Transfusion Clinic.]
[2x Silver Tickets Received]
Oh, something good! Use them!
[Bucket of Milk]
Rare Item
Minecraft - A bucket filled with 1 liter of milk. If the milk inside the bucket is drunk in one continuous motion, it will dispel all unnatural afflictions ailing the user such as curses, sicknesses, magical effects—everything unnatural currently affecting them, good or bad. Does not work on wounds as it has no restorative properties. Cannot affect effects that have become part of the drinker.
[Fire Breathing]
Rare Skill
Demon Slayer - Fire Breathing is a specialized swordsmanship style and breathing technique that mimics flames and replicates them with the user's movements. Most techniques involve extremely powerful singular strikes that "burn" opponents, usually initiated from a high stance. With magical power, fire can be manifested to augment the style.
The first item was... a bucket of milk. From Minecraft. But it clears everything. Curses, diseases, you name it.
I realized this might be a way to cure the zombie virus—as long as the person hasn't turned 100%. They'd need to drink it the moment they're bitten. Once the virus becomes part of them (total transformation), it's too late.
The second was a skill—the sixth I've pulled, and it's awesome! Fire Breathing will make me significantly stronger. And if I can teach it to others, they'll get stronger too.
In my previous life, when I rewrote the manga, I added a lot of detail about "breathing," treating it more like Ki.
In my version, people use breathing to mimic the Ki found in nature. I'll have to see later which version I got—my own or Koyoharu Gotouge's.
I'll figure that out back at the base, after I see off Yuriko and Kiriko, and finally get some human rest.
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Author's Note: So, I decided, this fanfic will go by the path of Civilisation/Kingdom Building, so… eh, do you guys remember how I showed in the end of the chapter Koichi Shidou's father and brother? I may kill them behind scenes by using some Expy, that y'all will love! Hint, that Expy is from romance anime and very, like Very Rich individual, whom will interact with MC, but in future, which I already mentioned in the past chapters.