The gray haired youth ran through the dreary, gray corridor, stripping off his outer coat and tossing it behind him.
BOOM!
Dozens of hands emerging from the void seized the coat, and in mere moments, the fabric was shredded to pieces.
The spell cast upon that coat was a special kind of magic; at the very least, it allowed an otherwise useless individual with no magical ability to remain hidden within a world dominated by magic.
He also reached up to peel away the fake skin mask, revealing a somewhat gaunt, slender face beneath.
Quân—or rather, the gray haired Quân—halted his steps. Staring down a long corridor bristling with hands reaching out from the void, he cautiously surveyed the path behind him. Realizing there was no retreat left, he lunged forward, sprinting straight ahead.
Fortunately, lacking any magic power, he could not be detected by them, allowing Quân to remain temporarily safe.
And yet...
BOOM!
BANG!
Sounds resembling exploding fireworks echoed far and wide. Hearing the commotion, Quân ran even faster.
'Which room holds the specialized gear??? Emergency room? Supply closet? Damn it all, having zero real life experience...'
Quân burst into an arbitrary room that looked somewhat unique, only to find it was a restroom. He scrambled to another room, which turned out to be a nurses' station.
Restrooms, operating rooms, emergency rooms... yet not a single medical kit could be found for him to carry away.
Quân clutched his head, ignoring the hands reaching out blindly from the void as he sprinted toward a higher floor.
Quân had run all the way up from the first floor, and now he was on the third floor. Lacking any experience navigating hospitals in this world, he had no idea where the first aid equipment was stored.
'Damn this life... HURRY UP!'
He could not help feeling panicked and utterly restless as he recalled the scene of Corin throwing him away to safety.
Quân bit his lip tightly, pulling a cigarette pack from his trousers, extracting a single cigarette, and placing it between his lips. With his free hand, he drew a match from his pocket, striking it against the wall to generate a spark before bringing it to the cigarette tip.
That was no ordinary tobacco, but rather a cigarette laced with chemicals designed to temporarily numb pain and boost muscle performance, disguised as regular smoke.
Quân gnashed his teeth loudly, taking a deep drag before dashing upward, violently kicking doors open one after another to inspect each room.
Holding his breath, his eyes darted around frantically as he tried to tune out the bloodcurdling screams echoing within his mind.
BOOM!
CRACK!
BANG!
Countless sounds of thunderous destruction erupted right beside the hospital, filling Quân with overwhelming anxiety. He hurriedly scanned the entire corridor, locating a window to poke his head outside.
"Hah... haah..."
His eyes narrowed slightly. His vision, like that of any other night owl who stayed up late, was as blurry as dense fog, yet he could still clearly discern the cloud of dust and debris kicked up by the destruction.
As the dust cloud gradually dispersed, it revealed a silhouette standing like a stone statue amidst the ruins.
It stood tall and erect, like a sword plunged deep into a monolith, motionless and undefeated.
Around him lay roughly a dozen corpses, torn apart and mutilated to the point where individual limbs and body parts were barely recognizable.
Witnessing that scene, Quân swallowed hard, his breathing and heartbeat accelerating wildly. Pivoting on his heels, Quân burst into a sprint.
He was far too weak, far too pathetic to even look upon that sight. All he could do now was try his best to find a medical kit and supplies to bring back to base, serving as a small repayment for their sacrifices.
He dashed toward the end of the corridor, paying no mind to the hands reaching out from the void attempting to grab him.
Quân pushed open the room with the largest door, barging inside aggressively. The overwhelming urgency had stripped away his most basic psychological defenses.
Because of that...
SWISH!
CLACK!
A cold, metallic sound resonated through the air, and right before his face was a handgun—a cold firearm with its safety latch already disengaged.
"Is today a good day to die?"
Quân held his breath, his eyes trembling before freezing in place.
"...You..."
Quân stood motionless. Thanks to the chemical smoke from earlier, his face showed no overt emotion, yet the cold sweat pouring down his skin betrayed his utter terror.
"...Isn't that line from American soldiers?"
Quân laughed—a chuckle born of absolute helplessness, of death knocking at his door.
"Damn it all..."
Standing right before Quân... was another Quân, sporting cold white hair, holding a gun pointed directly at him.
And right behind that person stood another Lunas.