Fifteen minutes later, Thomas stared at the steaming bowl of Mutton Stew, his stomach rumbling. The aroma of lamb, spices, and ginseng was intoxicating. He'd added ginseng to his own bowl for an extra boost.
[Nourishing Mutton Stew]
Type: Food
Effects:
· Removes: Cold (120 minutes, 25% chance of permanent removal)
· Adds: Invigorated (30 minutes)
· +10 Immunity (60 minutes)
· +70 Hunger
· +60 Thirst
· Special Effect: +15 Immunity, +10 HP regeneration/min, Adds Energetic status (60 minutes)
The effects were potent, amplified by the ginseng and the Level 2 kitchen's bonus. He devoured the soup, the warmth spreading through his body. The hideout was a comfortable temperature, but the soup added an extra layer of warmth, a pleasant, invigorating heat.
He finished the bowl, letting out a satisfied belch. Two new icons appeared in his status bar: Invigorated and Energetic. He felt a surge of energy.
Damn, it's nighttime. Too late to sleep now. The rain had stopped two hours ago. He opened the hideout door, testing the air. The Mutton Stew had negated the chill. The air felt cool and refreshing. The station floor was damp, but the water had mostly receded.
He decided to take advantage of the Invigorated buff and explore the hospital. He equipped his usual gear, swapping his Level 4 armor for the Level 5 Tactec plate carrier. He chose the MP5 with AP 3 ammunition to save space, along with his knife and three grenades. He equipped the 35-slot Camel backpack, bringing his total carrying capacity to 58. He donned the black face mask, digital headset, and night cloak, pulling up the hood.
He stepped out of the hideout. The tunnel was still flooded, so he opted for the surface streets. Thankfully, the moon was still hidden behind clouds. The city was cloaked in darkness.
He moved silently through the deserted streets, avoiding puddles and debris. The air was colder than he'd expected, but the Invigorated buff kept him warm. He heard occasional gunshots in the distance.
Twenty minutes later, he reached the hospital. The building was dark, except for a few lights on the top floor of the main building. His mental map showed three refugees resting up there. He ignored them, heading for the emergency room.
Inside, four or five stainless steel gurneys lay scattered across the floor, amidst a jumble of medical equipment and paperwork. He pocketed a stray sterile bandage. His mental map highlighted the remaining loot. He moved methodically through the rooms, collecting what he could.
The hospital had already been thoroughly looted. Only scraps remained. He found a few useful items: bandages (both sterile and regular), a portable defibrillator, a CAT tourniquet, hemostatic agents, splints, sutures, surgical tools, disinfectant, alcohol, gauze, cotton balls… He also found a thermometer and, to his delight, a few syringes. He'd only found five adrenaline syringes in Black Dog's stash. Here, in a discarded medical tray, he found two morphine syringes and another adrenaline syringe.
[Morphine Syringe]
Type: Injectable
Description: A single-use syringe filled with a large dose of morphine. Used to treat acute and chronic severe pain.
Size: 1x1
Uses: 1/1
Positive Effects:
· Removes: Contusion, Pain (305 seconds)
· Adds: Invigorated (305 seconds)
Negative Effects:
· -10 Stamina
· -10 Thirst
Note: Cannot be used until after the first Apocalypse Event.
The morphine syringe focused on pain relief, with a longer duration than the adrenaline syringe, but without the performance-enhancing effects. And the side effects were less severe.
He'd finished clearing out the emergency room. A decent haul, especially the syringes. He crossed the glass walkway to the clinic, heading straight for the pharmacy. His mental map showed several loot markers there.
The pharmacy was a mess. Shelves lay overturned, medicine boxes and prescription slips scattered across the floor. He followed the markers on his map, retrieving pills from under shelves, behind cabinets, and in dark corners: ibuprofen, dipyrone, amoxicillin, and a bottle labeled simply "Assorted Pills." He collected them all. The dipyrone, with its pain-relieving and fever-reducing properties, would be invaluable during the blizzard. He found three bottles, fifty pills each, a total of 150.
He pocketed the pills, a valuable addition to his medical supplies, then continued his search, room by room, dismantling any computer workstations he found, hoping for graphics cards.
He was on the second floor when he stopped. Two red dots had appeared on his map on the first floor. Refugees? He wasn't sure. Their movements were too deliberate, too cautious. They were searching for something, or someone.
He pressed himself against the wall, his cloak and stealth skill muffling any sound he made. He crept towards a large potted plant near the stairwell, crouching behind its broad leaves, and peered down at the first floor.
He could just make out two figures moving slowly through the darkness. Their footsteps were almost silent, like the cultist he'd encountered. They were clearly experienced in stealth movement. If not for his mental map, they would have spotted him already.
They finished searching the first floor, then ascended the stairs on opposite sides, meeting at the landing near the potted plant.
"No refugees here. Should we just grab the item and go?"
"No. The client said opening that hidden door makes a lot of noise. If there are any refugees on these floors, we'll be trapped."
"Fine. You take the left, I'll take the right. Shout if you find anything."
"Okay."
They split up. Thomas, hidden barely a meter away, exhaled slowly. That was too close. He was practically a potted plant ninja. If not for the plant's cover and his gear, they would have spotted him for sure. He hadn't even dared to breathe too loudly.
He'd overheard their conversation, though. A hidden door…an item…a client… This sounded promising.
He opened his mental map, locating a large office on the third floor, labeled "Director's Office." He zoomed in, finding a small, square-shaped room, marked as a hidden compartment. Several loot markers were inside. The compartment door was incredibly thick, at least thirty centimeters. Impossible to open conventionally. The key, or whatever method was needed to open it, was likely on those two men.
The mention of a client suggested they were mercenaries or something similar. And their stealth skills were far superior to any refugee he'd encountered. They were clearly trained professionals.
This is getting interesting. He watched their movements on the map, a plan forming.
He slipped away from the potted plant, following them at a distance. While they were searching a row of examination rooms, he took the stairs to the third floor. The most dangerous part was over.
He reached the Director's Office. He tried the door handle. Unlocked. He slipped inside, closing the door behind him. The office was a mess, papers scattered everywhere, overturned furniture, discarded lab coats. Food and drinks lay on the coffee table. He ignored them. His mental map showed the two men approaching the third floor.
He scanned the room, his eyes landing on a large potted plant in the corner, its broad leaves providing ample cover. Potted plant ninja 2.0.
He slipped behind the plant, the cloak and mask rendering him practically invisible in the shadows. He became one with the darkness.
A click. The door opened.