Chapter 220: Burden
"H-Help me."
Adyr paused mid-step, having been following the trail deeper into the corridor, when the voice reached him.
Turning, he spotted the source: one of the players, sprawled across the floor. His arm had been torn off entirely. Both legs—crushed, as if something massive had flattened them. Yet, somehow, he was still alive and conscious. Watching Adyr with bloodshot, pleading eyes.
Adyr exhaled quietly.
"Weak... yet stubborn enough to keep breathing," he muttered, changing direction and approaching him.
The wounded player’s expression shifted when he saw Adyr moving closer. Even through the agony twisting his face, a fragile flicker of hope broke through.
"P-Please... I don’t want to die. Help me." His voice cracked, forced from a throat weakened by blood loss.
Despite losing both legs and an arm, he wasn’t dead. He was a mutant. A Player. As long as his core systems held, survival was highly possible. His injuries weren’t inherently fatal. With the right medical support, even his missing limbs could be replaced—new biological augments grafted in.
He knew that. Which meant he saw Adyr as his lifeline. His chance.
Adyr stopped beside him, his expression unreadable. "How exactly do you expect me to help you?"
There was no one else. No backup coming. This deep underground, no STF team would reach him. Adyr was all he had.
The player hesitated, then spoke, voice shaking. "Y-You can carry me...? If I stay here, they’ll find me. They’ll finish me off."