The System cheered, flashing a digital stethoscope icon.
[Apply the Magic Band-Aid, Host! Quick, before he expires and you have to fight the zombies outside with your stubby little arms!]
Dia looked down at her stubby little arms.
She moved them once.
Then she nodded.
The logic was sound.
An investment of one medical supply was worth the return of a functional, heavily armed Guardian.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out the System-provided item. It was a standard, plastic-wrapped adhesive bandage, aggressively pink, and patterned with cartoon Brachiosauruses wearing sunglasses.
Dia knelt beside the massive, dying man. "Application protocol requires a sterile surface," she muttered.
Then looked around.
Nothing was sterile.
Not even remotely.
Dia puffed out her cheeks.
"Yuck."
She mentally accessed the unlimited inventory the System had promised. A small, plastic packet materialized in her hand.
’Tots-and-Lots Premium Scented Wet Wipes.’
She pulled out a wet wipe. It was freezing cold and smelled intensely of artificial aloe vera and baby powder.
With the detachment of a lab technician scrubbing a petri dish, Dia slapped the freezing wet wipe directly onto Adrian’s filthy, blood-caked cheek.
She rubbed it vigorously, wiping away a layer of grime, motor oil, and dried blood, completely ignoring the terrifying blue sparks of electricity that snapped against her fingers.
The System’s temporary shield around Dia nullified the electrical damage, but it didn’t stop the absurdity of the visual: a six-year-old aggressively exfoliating a dying warlord in the middle of a post-apocalyptic garage.
Once a roughly two-inch circle of his cheek was relatively clean, Dia peeled the backing off the Dinosaur Band-Aid.
She didn’t place it on the fatal chest wound.
The chest wound was too large, and the Band-Aid was only three inches long. Logically, the placement didn’t matter if the item’s properties were systemic.
Dia raised her hand.
Smack!
She slapped the pink Dinosaur Band-Aid directly onto the center of his forehead.
[ITEM USED: SYSTEM’S MAGIC BAND-AID (Rank: Mythic)]
[Effect: Instant Cellular Regeneration, Toxin Purge, Pathogen Annihilation, Core Stabilization!]
The moment the adhesive touched Adrian’s skin, a blinding, holy golden light erupted from the cartoon dinosaur. The light surged into the man’s skull and cascaded down his nervous system like a tidal wave of pure, concentrated life force.
Dia watched, unbothered by the divine light show, as the man’s biological state rapidly reversed.
The blackish-purple veins receded, his skin returning to a healthy, albeit pale, tone. The massive laceration on his chest knitted together, muscle fibers weaving like microscopic threads, sealing the wound completely and leaving only smooth, unblemished skin.
The erratic, dangerous blue sparks of electricity were suddenly sucked back into his chest, condensing into a stable, rhythmic pulse of power deep within his heart.
Dia’s eyes widened slightly.
"Wow."
She had seen many strange things in the laboratory.
But this was still very pretty.
[QUEST COMPLETED: FIRST ADOPTION!]
[Target Stabilized! Guardian Secured!]
[Distributing Rewards...]
A perfectly chilled, 500ml glass bottle materialized in the air and dropped neatly into Dia’s outstretched hands. The glass was frosted with condensation, and the liquid inside was a vibrant, opaque, completely unnatural shade of pink.
[1x Premium Strawberry Milk Acquired!]
[1x Unlimited Wet Wipes Dispenser (equipped to pocket dimension) Acquired!]
[Host, you did it! You saved your new Uncle!]
Dia ignored the System’s confetti graphics. She held the bottle of strawberry milk up to the dim emergency light, examining it with the intensity of a jeweler inspecting a diamond.
In her previous life in the lab, Subject 404’s diet consisted solely of Nutrient Paste Formula 8-B. It was grey.
It tasted like drywall mixed with unseasoned tofu. The concept of "flavor" was something she had only read about in contraband medical journals regarding human psychology and sensory pleasure.
She popped the foil cap off the bottle.
The scent hit her first. It was overwhelmingly sweet, a synthetic symphony of sugar, dairy, and artificial fruit esters.
Her newly acquired salivary glands, which had been completely dormant in this malnourished host body, instantly flooded her mouth.
Dia lifted the bottle to her lips and took a small, experimental sip.
Blink.
The liquid coated her tongue.
The sugar hit her brain’s reward center like a nuke.
It was cold and creamy.
It tasted like happiness, safety, and colors she didn’t even know existed.
Her pupils dilated to the size of saucers.
Her tiny fingers gripped the glass bottle so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Analysis: This substance... is divine.
She took another tiny sip.
Her eyes sparkled.
She hugged the bottle.
I want more.
It is the pinnacle of human creation. I will conquer this apocalyptic world if only to secure a permanent supply chain of this specific molecular compound!
She was just about to take a second, much larger gulp when a sound interrupted her awakening.
"Nnngh..."
Dia looked down.
The large biological transport unit was still unconscious, but his autonomic nervous system was coming back online. He groaned, a deep, gravelly sound in the back of his throat. His head rolled to the side.
And then, he smacked his lips.
Smack, smack.
"...dry..." he mumbled deliriously, his tongue dragging across his cracked, parched lips.
Dia froze.
She looked at the man. then she looked at the incredibly precious, cold, sweet elixir in her hands.
A fierce, protective instinct flared in her chest.
This was her strawberry milk.
The System gave it to her.
She had earned it by walking all the way down here and wasting a perfectly good wet wipe.
She didn’t want to share.
She had never owned anything in her entire life.
Not a toy, not a name, and certainly not a beverage this majestic.
She clutched the bottle to her chest, her small face setting into a stubborn pout that completely contradicted her usual clinical demeanor.
Let him find his own hydration, she reasoned.
He is an adult.
He has functional legs.
Grown-ups can get things themselves.
Dia is only five.
I am a six-year-old with a BMI bordering on starvation, okay?