If there’s one thing Lidi dislikes doing the most, it’s waiting in line.
Even though he’d just returned from the hospital, he still “obediently” went back.
When he arrived at the Huashan Third Medical Center again, he noticed there seemed to be even more beastman seeking treatment than usual today.
Even the fully automated diagnostic booths, equipped with intelligent automated systems, were packed with beastman, forcing Lidi to join the long queue.
“Are there any doctors at all?!
I want to see a real doctor, not AI!” As the number of beastman increased, naturally some troublemakers emerged.
An old donkey beastman, unable to accept being treated by a lifeless artificial intelligence, caused a scene at the hospital.
This old donkey, who looked to be in his seventies or eighties, acted arrogantly, constantly harassing the receptionist.
These beastman were usually remnants from the previous era, stumbling blocks that technological progress had to be overcome.
“Sir, please be patient.
Due to staff shortages, you will need to wait in line if you require a doctor’s diagnosis, it will take longer.” “Fine, I’ll wait!
I don’t want to be touched by these cold machines!” As Lidi passed the arguing old orc, he slightly mimicked his mannerisms, muttering sarcastically in a low voice.
“I don’t want to be touched by these cold machines~ Even seeing a doctor involves using those machines, it’s ridiculous.” After waiting for several tens of minutes, Lidi finally entered the booth, where he was greeted by the same holographic fox projection as before.
“Welcome to Huashan Third Medical Center.
Please show us your ID.” Seeing the projection’s response, Lidi asked questioningly.
“What, you don’t remember me?
We just met a few days ago.” The projection flickered for a few seconds, as if considering something, before speaking.
“I’m sorry, sir, our hospital has no record of your visit.
This is your first time seeing us here.” Lidi was curious about the projection response, but didn’t think much of it, assuming it was just a system malfunction.
The subsequent procedures were the same as before, and the result was that Lidi had no problems.
“Are you sure?
I was sprayed by an elephant snot all over my body, I must have a lot of viruses on me, right?” “After analysing, your health is indeed fine.
As for the snot spray, I suggest you use our 360 shower gel to clean yourself; it’s an effective disinfectant…” What followed was a long string of advertising lines, which annoyed Lidi.
He left the booth before it could finish speaking.
Outside, he felt a bitter taste in his mouth.
Everything seemed to have happened too quickly, making it difficult for this methodical fox to adapt.
Perhaps it was psychological, or perhaps it was the hot weather, but his throat felt dry, so he went to a nearby vending machine to buy a drink.
After paying with the chip in his hand, the machine made a few clinking sounds and dispensed a bottle of soda.
Just as Lidi picked up the soda and was about to pull the tab, his phone beeped with a message.
He took out his phone and saw a message from the administrator of his company’s group chat.
‘Due to multiple outbreaks of influenza among employees, the company will be temporarily closed for one week.
All employees are requested to take personal protective measures, minimize unnecessary outings, and if you experience any discomfort or abnormal symptoms, please go to the hospital for a check-up immediately.
Thank you.’ After reading the message, Lidi felt it was expected, but at the same time, another chat group he had been lurking in—his high school group chat—suddenly popped up too.
Someone had sent a group notification.
Thinking it was probably another classmate’s wedding invitation, he clicked on it, only to find that the content was completely different from what he expected.
‘Hello everyone.
It is with great regret that I inform you that my husband, Kang Ze, passed away yesterday due to illness.
If it is convenient for you, you are cordially invited to attend his funeral.
The memorial service is approaching…’ Looking at the message in the group chat, it was an obituary, and the deceased was none other than Kang Ze, whom he had always disliked.
“Wait, how could this be so sudden?” “We just met a few days ago, didn’t we?” “My condolences, Lu.” The chat group quickly erupted, with previously silent lurkers asking questions and discussing the matter.
“Kang Ze…
he’s dead?” He was momentarily stunned by his classmate’s passing, not even noticing the soda he dropped.
It all happened so suddenly.
He remembered having dinner together just a few days ago, and now he is gone.
“Lu, what illness did Kang Ze die from?” one member of the group asked Kang Ze’s wife, while Lu, clearly using Kang Ze’s account, answered the question in the group.
“It’s Sudadi flu.
Although I’ve tested negative, since you all attended the gathering with Kang Ze a few days ago, I suggest you all get checked at the hospital too.” With Lu’s reply, several people in the group who had attended the gathering immediately tensed up and went offline to the hospital for checkups.
Lidi, who was already in front of the hospital, felt a sinking feeling in his heart.
“It’s Sudadi again.
Is the government’s scheme starting to spread here?” Lidi gripped his phone tightly, staring at the message on the screen, his mind in turmoil.
He knew it was a government conspiracy, but he couldn’t tell anyone.
Firstly, he had no evidence; the woman in black had taken it yesterday.
Secondly, who could he tell?
The media?
Government agencies?
The black guards?
Those were all government officials, and he was just an ordinary low-level employee.
What could he do against them?
Lidi anxiously got into his car, watching the herd of animals constantly lurking in and out the hospital.
These were all lives, and soon those lives would vanish in a very short time.
“So what?…these people actually deserved their fate…don’t they?” When he saw the old donkey emerge, memories of how he had been treated by the herbivorous beastmen came flooding back.
Perhaps this was a “sterilization” reducing their numbers, bringing purification to this ugly world.
But then he saw a kangaroo mother and her joey emerge from the hospital, happily holding hands, seemingly considering where to have dinner.
Seeing this, Lidi’s preconceived notions crumbled instantly.
Watching the mother and joey walk away, he seemed to see his own reflection in the little one.
After a moment of silence, he helplessly closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and covered his face with his hands, at a loss for words.
“Someone like you… will come looking for us eventually.” That sentence suddenly surfaced from the depths of his memory.
Lidi’s hand trembled slightly.
He slowly opened his phone case and pulled out the black card from its hidden compartment.
The silver number gleamed blindingly in the sunlight.
He stared at the string of numbers, his finger hesitant to press it.
“…What are you doing?
There’s no need to drag yourself into this mess.” His voice was soft, yet it sounded like a self-questioning question.
As if they were talking, Lidi unconsciously responded.
“Mind your own business, isn’t that what you’ve always been doing?” “Just go on with your own life…” “What do other people’s lives have to do with you…” He’d said these words too many times; he couldn’t remember why.
“…And what about him?” His voice grew low and hoarse.
“What did Kang Ze do wrong?” He didn’t respond immediately after asking, only a brief silence.
“People die every day in this world, do you want to save them all?” “Who do you think you are?” Lidi’s breathing grew increasingly agitated.
He is nothing.
Not a superhero, not a law enforcer, not the kind of person who could change the world.
He was just an ordinary beastman who could code greatly, could take beatings, and whose own life was a mess.
So what right did he have to interfere?
The thoughts in his head grew increasingly chaotic; he tried to calm himself by adjusting his breathing.
Unfortunately, it didn’t work.
He had no choice but to start the engine and drive away, temporarily leaving this place.