Top Warzone Analyst Chapter 42

The sophomores, accustomed to breezing through the San Yao side quest, completely ignored the NPCs and headed straight for the reception desk.

The young men, standing at 1.85 meters tall, with military backpacks slung over their shoulders and heavy weaponry in their arms, were an imposing sight even when stationary. Now, as they strode forward with a menacing air, the passersby actively gave way, not daring to approach, even though the icons on their uniforms marked them as allies.

Yet, standing in the empty hall, the group of young men had no idea where to begin their search.

Where would the vaccines be stored? What were the specific symptoms of the virus? Was the Second Hospital the site of the biochemical agent research?

“So, what do we do now?” they asked, their faces full of confusion.

They had initially thought that upon reaching the crucial coordinate point, the mission would automatically update with new developments. But now, it was clear that things were far from that simple.

“This side quest has incorporated many intelligent NPCs, indicating an interactive function. San Yao will definitely encourage players to immerse themselves in the environment and explore the storyline,” Shen Dan mused. “So, let’s proactively initiate conversations with them and ask for any hospital-related rumors or information. I’ll take charge of searching the first floor. You guys head upstairs or to the inpatient department. Report any suspicious information you find, and we’ll piece it all together.”

“Got it.”

Perplexed, the senior students dispersed to begin their search.

If they were supposed to find the key NPCs, they were up against hundreds of patients and medical staff currently in the hospital. The system wasn’t about to mark a glowing exclamation point above anyone’s head as a hint. Trying to identify them one by one through conversation would take until the cows came home.

Moreover, they had no idea how to even approach the questioning.

With the power cut off, many medical devices and treatment procedures were useless. Some patients were in critical condition, like bombs with the pin pulled – ready to explode the moment anyone got close.

This was especially true on the fourth and fifth floors. After a few senior students went up, they found patients already covered with white sheets, lying in the middle of the hallways. Doctors were cornered, their expressions on the verge of collapse as they tried to explain the situation over and over again to those around them.

The NPCs in this instance of “San Yao” were crafted with such realism that, even knowing it was just a game, the lingering gazes, the barely suppressed sobs, and the overwhelming sense of helpless sorrow felt disturbingly real, sending shivers down their spines.

Those complex stares clung to them like hooks, or like knives wrapped in silk, encroaching on their personal space and making the already long, dim corridors feel even more cramped and suffocating.

Having only hastily walked through one examination area, Li Qing felt immense psychological pressure. He could no longer maintain the cold detachment of an observer. He was terrified that a patient might suddenly rush over and beg him to take them away.

“I’ve got goosebumps,” Li Qing muttered. “Who’s going to search the critical care area? The atmosphere here is way too depressing. How are we supposed to question anyone? The moment we ask, they just start crying. There’s no way.”

Another senior student, also affected by the grim scene, added in a somber tone, “Why is there no power? Don’t hospitals usually have backup generators?”

Cheng Feng’s voice came through the communicator, sounding a bit distant. “The whole circuit system was probably sabotaged. You think you’re going to go repair it now? You know anything about electrical work?”

Li Qing had no response to that.

Shen Dan asked, “Why sabotage the circuit? What are they afraid we might find? The database here? Patient records?”

Cheng Feng replied thoughtfully, “Most likely. Never overestimate the enemy’s kindness.”

Li Qing, leaning against the wall, hesitated before saying, “So… we still need to go restore the power?”

Cheng Feng said, “That’s not the solution. There’s not enough time.”

The group fell silent. Those with ideas and those without alike spurred their brain cells into overdrive, grasping at any possible thought.

Amidst the quiet, the commotion in someone else’s background became jarringly conspicuous.

Shen Dan asked, “Why is it so noisy over there?”

Song Zheng exclaimed, “Because I’m working!”

Following Cheng Feng’s suggestion, Song Zheng had gathered the patients together to question them collectively.

The citizens who had been hiding in the corners, waiting for them to organize the crowd, immediately swarmed over upon hearing this, surrounding them.

Trying to calm everyone down, arrange emergency treatment for the most critical patients, and extract mission-related information all at once – ‘stretched thin’ didn’t even begin to cover it. Song Zheng felt like his brain would have to split in two just to process everything.

In the eyes of the public, soldiers seemed to be omnipotent beings, capable of anything, even if he had absolutely no medical knowledge.

He might be a social person, but this was really more than he could handle.

Song Zheng turned around, but Cheng Feng was nowhere to be found. The feeling of being suddenly unmoored made him anxious, and he kept asking over the team channel, “Sister? Have you found anything yet?”

Standing at the emergency room exit, Cheng Feng ignored his question. “Have any of you found infected patients with symptoms matching the earlier ones?”

“No.”

“Nothing here either.”

“I haven’t been inside the infectious diseases ward yet, but it’s unlikely the Second Hospital would just let a batch of isolated patients walk out. I just asked around, and the patients say the hospital’s main gate has been locked for a while. It was chaos outside before, and hardly anyone dared to go out, but a few people did manage to make it here seeking shelter. Those patients we encountered on the road probably didn’t leave from here.”

Cheng Feng, deep in thought, murmured, “Something’s not right here.”

Song Zheng asked, “What do you mean?”

Cheng Feng’s gaze drifted, scanning the area but finding no overlooked clues. The existing pieces of information were too flimsy to support her theory, and she struggled to find the right words.

“Just a gut feeling,” she said. “I suspect the Second Hospital isn’t the key mission location.”

This intuition was far from good news. After all, this was the only coordinate point they had. And they had already invested so much time here.

Cheng Feng turned to head back, but as she did, something in her peripheral vision caught her attention. She took two steps, then hesitated, glancing back in surprise.

Nestled beside a lush potted plant was a blue trash bin. And wedged between the bin and the planter, leaning against the wall, was an inconspicuous piece of white cardboard.

Its color and size nearly allowed it to melt into its surroundings. Shielded by the broad leaves of the greenery, Cheng Feng had almost missed it entirely.

With the hospital on lockdown and the power out, routine cleaning had been neglected. The trash hadn’t been taken out.

Cheng Feng hurried over and flipped the piece of cardboard over to examine it.

Scrawled on the front in red ink was an accusation. It claimed that the author’s husband had been declared dead after surgery, but before the family could even view the body, the hospital had directly contacted the funeral home for cremation. This behavior was highly unusual.

Therefore, the family reasonably suspected this was a case of medical malpractice and demanded that the hospital provide an official report.

Placed so deliberately in this spot, it was clearly a significant clue. Cheng Feng held up the cardboard and asked loudly, “What is this? Does anyone know about this?”

“A troublemaker,” one NPC raised their hand to say. “Security hauled him away later.”

“There were troublemakers?” Li Qing said in surprise. “Looks like the ecosystem in this hospital is pretty well-developed.”

Song Zheng, already overwhelmed and frazzled, chimed in, “What about the troublemakers? Hey, Sis, do you think there might be a basement here or something? Should we change our investigation approach?”

Cheng Feng pressed her lips together, a sudden dryness in her throat. She swallowed hard, then raised her voice. “We might really be looking in the wrong place. The rescue target isn’t at the Second Hospital.”

The serious, inexplicable tone of her voice sent a chill down everyone’s spine, a wave of unease washing over them.

Cheng Feng continued, “Think about the infection. Half the city’s population has been exposed to the virus by now, but no one’s showing obvious symptoms yet. That means the incubation period isn’t short. Those few patients we saw, the ones who were so sick? They were almost certainly the first wave of infected, released from the virus research institute.

“Physically, they were in no condition to walk that far from the hospital. But they deliberately carried items connected to the Second Hospital. They were probably trying to give us a hint.”

She wet her lips, the words coming faster now.

“Here’s the malicious theory: This hospital has been compromised. Someone on the staff has been secretly transporting suitable patients to the institute for clandestine experiments. That’s why all the clues keep pointing back here.”

A senior student forced out a dry laugh. “N-No way, right?”

But an enemy capable of deploying biochemical agents seemed capable of absolutely anything.

A chill of pure dread crept up their spines.

They were still mulling over the logic of this theory when a glaring notification suddenly flashed on their main interface:

[Emergency Rescue! Mission Failed!]

Everyone was stunned.

“What the… It’s over just like that? It hasn’t even started yet! Is the difficulty of this side quest just off the charts?”

“There wasn’t even a warning about the mission time limit being so short?”

“What the hell happened? San Yao, what are you doing?”

Cheng Feng’s face turned ashen.

Immediately, a second notification popped up.

[Second Round will commence in one minute. Please prepare to load the save file.]