Chapter 64: Bradford's Misfortune

The master of banter, John, cleared his throat and called out toward the tool shed.

"Hey, buddy, your pal is already dead. It's over. You might be injured, but at least you're still alive."

"I've got a piece of advice that could save your life. Think about how much attention you've already received. The internet and media are all over this event. You're going to be the face of this 'great achievement.'

It's time to live and embrace this 'honor.' If you die, hardly anyone will remember your name, but if you're alive and sent to trial, you'll be in the spotlight. Think it over!"

No more gunshots came from inside this time. After a while, a weak voice responded.

"I surrender. I've put down my weapon. Don't shoot."

Nice. Jack silently gave John a thumbs-up. If the system acknowledged banter as a skill, he'd definitely want John as his teacher.

Even judging by psychological skills, Jack believed John's skill level was nothing less than proficient.

Twenty minutes later, CDC doctors, who finally arrived, confirmed the area was safe. The injured suspect was taken away in an ambulance to the nearby Memorial Hospital. Jack removed the magazine from his rifle, placed it back in the patrol car's trunk, and overheard Angela and Wesley whispering.

"How about a kiss as a make-up for today's actions? Or you can choose to sue me."

Wesley seemed a bit proud: "An hour ago, I wasn't sure, but when you bravely boarded that bus and saved everyone on it..."

He was probably trying to express admiration for his girlfriend, but Angela, with a smug look, interrupted him.

"That made you feel a bit... aroused, didn't it?"

Jack couldn't listen anymore. He slammed the trunk shut, interrupting their shameless flirting.

"There's a motel on the way. If you two can't wait, I can drop you off, but please, cut it out."

He missed dinner again today, but he'd rather grab a burger on the way back than be fed dog food until he was full.

However, there was one last thing to do. Tim, trapped in the infected person's house, was still unaccounted for, and Lucy had been waiting outside the quarantine area for him. With all the terrorists now captured, it was time to check on the old man.

Jack conducted a quick self-assessment in the car. Despite a busy day and a close call with death, he surprisingly felt fine. Though slightly irritated, he didn't have the usual overwhelming urge to act out. It seemed his body was gradually adapting to these dangerous situations.

Once again, it was a car with three people, followed by John's police car, totaling five. They soon arrived at their destination.

By now, it was deep into the night, but the lawn in front of the small yellow house was brightly lit. The CDC bus was parked by the road, and a group of CDC doctors in protective suits was busy disinfecting the area.

Jack got out, patting his growling stomach, and saw Lucy coming out of a makeshift plastic tent with a worried look. Her uniform buttons were undone, suggesting she had just finished cleaning and disinfecting.

Seeing the group arrive, she forced a smile and greeted them.

"Hey, I heard you guys became heroes today and saved the world."

Compared to their previous plan to take down a white supremacist gang, Jack felt his contribution today was minimal. John was the real hero, having discovered several key clues.

"Thanks to John. We were just doing our job."

John seemed distracted, not even noticing the praise, and anxiously asked, "I'm glad you're okay. How's Tim? I heard he and the victim's body were locked in the bedroom for hours."

Lucy tried to appear confident. "I think he'll be fine. The CDC vaccine has arrived, and Tim has been injected, but he needs to be observed in the hospital for 24 hours."

Everyone fell silent. According to Dr. Morgan, even with the vaccine, there was a 60% mortality rate. The mood became somber.

At that moment, the door opened, and Dr. Morgan, fully protected, accompanied Tim out.

Seeing the group, Tim, usually stern-faced, seemed a bit moved. But his expression only slightly softened, making it hard to call it a smile.

Dr. Morgan, oblivious to the emotional tension, removed his mask, looking as calm as when he coldly delivered those grim statistics at the station.

Jack was familiar with such people—high IQ, low EQ, struggling with emotional interactions, driven by rational thought over normal feelings, like the lead character in "Bones."

While they didn't offer comfort, they also didn't hide the truth. Morgan spoke bluntly.

"You were exposed to a viral concentration near the threshold, so you likely dodged a bullet. Clinically, you've shown no infection symptoms so far. To be safe, we vaccinated you. Now, we just wait."

The group's mood lifted slightly. As Jack stepped forward to fist-bump Tim, intending to discreetly use a healing spell, Tim suddenly went pale, rolled his eyes, and collapsed.

"Tim!"

"Officer Bradford!"

"What's wrong with him?"

"Call for help, get the ambulance!"

"Stay back, don't get close!"

Everyone rushed forward but was quickly held back by the alert CDC doctors.

Jack's fingers barely brushed Tim's coat, just missing his body.

Is this guy really that unlucky? Jack stood dumbfounded as he watched Tim convulse on the ground like an epileptic.

"Is it the virus?" Lucy, also restrained, asked sharply.

"No, no bleeding signs. It looks like anaphylactic shock—his body is reacting to the vaccine."

Dr. Morgan remained calm, directing two medics to restrain Tim and shouting to the standby ambulance.

"Get an epinephrine shot, now!"

After the injection, Tim quickly stopped convulsing but remained unconscious. Watching him being loaded into the ambulance, Jack patted the still-stunned John.

"Get in. We'll clear the way for the ambulance."

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