Chapter 583: Trouble
’Exactly.’ Nnenna pulled the kit onto her lap, determination glinting in her eyes. ’If the world’s going to keep throwing problems at me, I’ll be ready to patch myself up and keep moving.’
Ding!
"280 good points deducted."
In the next instant, a sleek, fully equipped first aid box appeared beside her bed.
Nnenna opened it with practiced hands, her eyes scanning the neatly arranged content, antiseptic, gauze, scissors, gloves, and even burn ointment. "Not bad," she murmured. "Looks like it came straight out of a hospital."
She slipped on the gloves and carefully unwrapped her palms. The wounds were worse than she had allowed herself to notice earlier, deep scrapes lined with angry red flesh, tiny bits of wire still clinging to the cuts. Her breath hitched, but her hands didn’t shake.
"Alright. Let’s do this."
She first rinsed the wounds with the sterile solution, biting her lip hard as the sting lanced through her nerves. The liquid bubbled faintly against the torn skin, carrying away dirt and tiny strands of metal. Her brows furrowed, but she didn’t let a sound escape.
"You’re tough," the Love System commented softly.
"Pain is temporary. Infection is worse," she muttered, focusing on her task.
She used the tweezers to remove the stubborn wire fragments, her movements precise, almost surgical. Then, with steady fingers, she dabbed antiseptic over the wounds. The burn of the liquid spread like fire up her arms, but Nnenna only exhaled slowly through her nose, forcing her body to stay calm.
Finally, she layered gauze over each palm, wrapping them snugly with clean bandages. When she tied the last knot, she flexed her fingers lightly. The movement pulled at the fresh wrappings, but her work was neat and professional, firm enough to protect, loose enough not to restrict.
She leaned back, exhaling. "Done."
remarked. "It’s almost like you’ve been trained for this
"What’s the point of skills if you don’t
"Great, let’s go."
wrapped neatly in fresh bandages, and made her way through the long corridors toward Carl’s quarters. The walk felt endless, but after about thirty
of food. Nanny led the procession with her usual stiff dignity, while the others followed in
a single covered bowl with
gaze sharpened.
soup for just a second, as if shielding it
sank. Of
dismissed her, he treated her with respect.
composed. Not yet. I
slowly.
him trip. Nothing
Ding!
"2000 good points deducted."
widened. ’What? Two thousand? That’s
martial artist. Tripping him
accept the deduction. ’Fine. If it saves Carl,
tile floor of Carl’s
as always, suddenly faltered. His foot snagged on nothing visible, his balance tipping forward. His arms jerked, the covered bowl
Crash!
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