Ch 39: Turning Point.

Knock. Knock.

“Yeah, just one second-“

“It’s Gulugulu Johnson. I’m here for an appointment with Dr. Rotoro?”

“What time?”

“2 pm. Sorry, I got a little lost on the way.”

The door opened to a bland room—a desk with a computer, two fancy chairs, a fake plant in the corner, a vending machine, and a hospital bed.

Gulugulu Johnson planted himself in the white chair, decorated with blue swirls, opposite Dr. Rotoro. The dwarf wearing a white coat stood at just under five feet, with a round belly, black circular glasses, and a grey beard.

“New to this clinic?” Dr. Rotoro asked, his voice that of an old man with a slightly high-pitched tone.

“Yes.” Gulugulu Johnson replied, admiring the pastel blue walls that had one painting. A painting that caught his eye. It was made with thick brushstrokes, an abstract painting that would probably sell for a ridiculous amount of Zen. It depicted two islands, with a silhouette standing on each shore, split by violent waters.

“Could I get your name and address, again, please?” Dr Rotoro typed away at his computer.

“Gulugulu Johnson.”

“And address?”

“What’s that?” Gulugulu Johnson feigned ignorance, sweat pooling at his palms.

“Excuse me? It’s the place you live.”

“I-I’m homeless.”

Dr. Rotoro flicked his eyes from the screen to his patient, scrunching his face.

Wait, I paid so much Zen for this prestigious doctor, how could I be homeless?

“I was evicted this morning!” Gulugulu Johnson stammered, leaning forward in his seat.

“Ok, I’m…sorry to hear that, Mr Johnson.”

“You can just call me Gulu for short.”

“Right.” The doctor’s face wore a look of exhaustion. “So, what’s the reason for your appointment?”

“I-It’s quite embarrassing, it’s uh down there.”

“No worries. Would you like me to take a look?”

Pulling down his trousers with one hand, Gulugulu Johnson pulled out a pistol from his back pocket with the other.

Both men were caught with their pants down.

“Unlock the back entrance. Right now.”

                                                                              ***

“Where is it?!”

BAM!

Rotoro’s glasses fell to the floor, and the lenses shattered into glass shards.

The white chairs were decorated with red splatters alongside the blue swirls.

“I keep telling you.” Tears streamed down his face as he cried. “I don’t know of any-“

BAM!

Rotoro’s nose caved inwards, blood spluttering out onto his white coat.

“Is the jammer up?” Mira asked, tapping away at the computer.

“Yeah, it's up,” Hiro replied, arms crossed, watching Oden beat the poor doctor.

“Trust me. Things will only get worse from here.” Oden cracked his knuckles, flinging the blood from his enormous fists. “You’re gonna make this a hell of a lot harder for yourself if you don’t spill it soon.”

The Doctor whimpered; his cries were no longer understandable sentences.

“We’re running out of time.” Hiro’s voice was sharp.

“F*ck.” Oden feinted another punch, the veins bulging from his arms. “Just tell us already!”

When Oden didn’t have his usual gentle, calm demeanour, he was terrifying to watch. A brute of physical violence.

“He's not telling us where it is. I'm killing him.” Hiro stepped forward, unsheathing his two black daggers.

“Wait.” Oden extended his arm in front of the Doctor, but the blade had already connected straight into the neck.

“CCC-KKROO-“ Rotoro dropped forward, blood pouring out from where the blade had landed and from his mouth. He choked, his eyes rolling back.

“What the f*ck are you doing?”

“Moving to Plan B.” Hiro pulled the dagger from Rotoro’s throat, cleaning the blood from his blade on the white coat before sheathing it again.

“You barely gave him a chance. Now we have to risk our lives against Zeron.”

The will of Akranos—Zeron. A machine imbued with an ancient artifact that had an ability that could induce instant death. An opponent seemingly impossible to pass, but every affliction had it’s conditions and drawbacks.

“We don’t have time to waste. What don’t you understand?” Hiro raised his voice, matching the snappy tone of the armoured giant. “Every extra second we spend here, the more likely it is we get caught. Are ya trying to get us all killed?”

“Hey, stop it.” Mira stood between the two as they entered the hallway with two ends.

Hiro’s steps were hasty, hurrying down the liminal corridor of white walls and harsh fluorescent spotlights.

“Hiro, relax.”

“We’re going to the server room now. Let's go.”

Mira peered down the ends of the corridor. “The server room isn’t that way,” She said, her tone mocking Hiro’s sense of direction.

“Yes, it is.” He said, matter-of-factly.

Ace took out his phone from his pocket. “Didn’t Hellia say it was on the north side?”

“Yeah, this way.”

“That’s east, you idiot,” Mira said, her brows knitted.

“Well, it’s this way. So, you must have misheard.”

“We can double-check with Hemlok first,” Ace paced back and forth as he tapped his phone, before coming to an abrupt standstill. “I-I can’t.”

“Huh?”

“The line is jammed.”

Then silence.

Mira twisted the ends of her wispy hair. The faces in the corridor suddenly becoming laced with worry. It was only a matter of time until someone found them, or Dr. Rotoro’s body. Was someone already onto them?

Having lost contact with the others was one of the worst-case scenarios. Now, if things went wrong, they wouldn’t be able to call for help or update Hemlok and Hellia on the situation. Not to mention the exit plan, they couldn’t contact Shell or Snow if plans happened to change.

“Well, are you coming or not?” Hiro carried on walking ahead, turning his back to the others.

Ace thought Hiro had the right idea. Even with complications, they didn’t have time to sit around and think. They’re on a time limit, and they had to keep going no matter what.

“No. That’s the wrong way.” Oden stood with his feet planted.

“Maybe one of us is misremembering. Why don’t we j-“

“No.” Oden's bitter tone took Mira and Ace by surprise. His expression lacked all emotion.

“The jammer. It's coming from him.”

All eyes widened.

Oden cast his gaze, and the others followed, straight into Hiro’s back.

“What are you doing?” Mira said, “We need to quickly extract the cure and-“

“Cure?” Hiro stopped walking.

Slowly, he turned to face the others with a smile. A devilish smile.

“There is no cure.”