20demayo Chapter 392 Robot Spider
Chapter 392 Robot Spider
received no further response; the drone simply hovered silently above him, its camera lens subtly adjusting. Ty let out an annoyed sigh and shrugged his shoulders as the glass-like door before him began to slide open with a quiet hiss.
"Alright, I suppose we can go ahead and get in," Ty stated, turning to his group. They all looked at him and gave a slight nod in agreement.
As they stepped forward, a brilliant white light shone from the entry, bathing Ty in a warm glow. The intensity of the light gradually increased until it completely overtook his vision, enveloping him and his companions in a blinding embrace.
Meanwhile, a bit farther away, another event was quietly unfolding, setting the stage for unforeseen complications.
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Silence enveloped the room, punctuated only by the flickering of a dim bulb. A sign at the entrance read "Morgue Room."
Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of death, lingering thickly among the countless bodies—casualties of the Black Bulls. Each body lay on a stretcher, their faces obscured by white cloths, stained dark with blood seeping through.
The oppressive atmosphere was suddenly disrupted by a subtle trembling beneath one of the stretchers. Abruptly, the white cloth over one face shifted, revealing Gerald. He sat up slowly, rubbing his neck, his black hair tumbling past his shoulders. As he adjusted to his surroundings, the stark reality of the morgue set back in.
"Ugh, that bastard could have at least been more gentle," Gerald muttered under his breath. He felt the back of his neck, where the intrusive weight of the purple rod still lingered. Gritting his teeth, he reached back and tugged at the device, feeling a sharp sting as it slid free, trailed by a warm trickle of blood that slowly ebbed as the wound healed itself.
"I never wanted to be struck by one of these."
"Okay, sounds good. Stay safe, Gerald. We don't want to lose anyone else like we did that night."
Gerald sighed, the weight of the mission pressing down on him. "Yeah," he muttered, steeling himself for what was to come.
The light in the room dimmed, casting long shadows over the dead bodies draped in white cloths. Gerald paused, taking in the somber scene. "Wow, this is more than we did... these must be other protesters or rebels," he murmured to himself, the realization sinking in with a heavy weight.
As he surveyed his surroundings, Gerald covered his nose, the stench of death pervading the air. He glanced around, noting the countertops cluttered with surgical tools and several computers set against the far wall.
Looking up, Gerald scanned the ceiling where the sparse lighting hung. "Good, no cameras," he noted with relief, a small comfort in the grim setting.
He moved towards one of the computers, his thoughts racing. 'I need to make this quick, I imagine these bodies won't be here for long.'
Gerald slapped his hand on the keyboard, only to be greeted by the cold glow of the screen displaying, "Locked, please enter password."
"Great, of course, even medical computers are locked tightly," Gerald muttered under his breath. "I could probably crack this, given enough time, but time's not exactly on my side, I guess..."
Patting his side, he felt an unexpected lump beneath his clothing. Curiously, he lifted the fabric to reveal a leather pouch snugly against his body. "Ah, I see Leader made sure you brought some of my supplies," he whispered, a grin spreading across his face as he realized his equipment had been returned to him while he was unconscious.
As Gerald extracted the pouch, scraps and bolts clattered onto the computer, scattering across the surface. He scooped them up, his fingers deftly sorting through the metallic pieces. "What to create?" he pondered, his eyes narrowing in concentration. The metal began to glow under his touch, heat emanating as he molded the pieces together.
Moments later, a small, intricate replica of a spider took form, its legs twitching slightly as it clung to the laptop's surface.