Apocalyptic Rebirth: With a repairman system space, she rises again. Chapter 39: Robot legs expert

Hades felt like a participant in a gaming show that had seconds to answer a question before the buzzer or bell went off and he lost the opportunity to win a prize. Many tis, he had also pressured others like this when closing business deals.

Sunshine raised her hand, and he knew that she was going to send him or both of them out of her special space.

"Wait." He said quickly.

She arched her eyebrows.

He sighed. "I will do it. My God woman, you are even more ruthless than I am when it cos to closing deals. I would have preferred to get a little more ti to discuss the surgery...err...repair of my leg.

Have you done this before? Where did you find the robot parts? How safe...." He felt a pinch in his neck and winced.

Sunshine had just injected him with anesthetic. It worked so fast because it sent him to sleep within five seconds. She dragged him to the table and first went through a simulation of the repair.

It was not different from what she had done with the robot dog leg. With the exception of the bleeding and the fact that this was a human leg. She picked up the scalpel and sliced it open.

The sight of blood or operation on a human body was not new to her. In the apocalypse, one needed multiple skills to survive. They were always getting injured, so it beca common for everyone to pick up so knowledge on human anatomy and simple surgeries.

The apocalypse had given rise to a hefty number of butchers [surgeons without skills whose shoddy operations led to death or infections seventy percent of the ti].

It was close to 2 A.M when she finally finished and brought him out of the space. He was still unconscious, so she covered him and also went to sleep.

[Task successfully completed

Repair integrity: 99.1%

Coins received: 0 {Awaiting paynt 200 gold coins}

Reward: 30 rit coins, one super energy pill]

She had slept so quickly that she did not hear the updates from the system.

[Repairman: Sunshine Raine.

Points: {57}

Gender: {Female}

Planet: {Private}

Level: 1 {3/50}

Class: {Beginner}

Repair success rate: {12%}

Expertise: {Robot legs}

Favored tool: {Hamr}

Weakness: {Unknown}

Speed: {average}

Intelligence: {29/100}

Worlds visited: {0}]

****

Moon Raine had yet to go to bed. Sleep was not a thing that ca easy to her ever since her rebirth. When it did co, it only lasted a few hours and even then, it would be filled with unease.

Her ears, like those of a prey living on a mountain of predators, were always twitching. If she heard the slightest unnatural noise, her eyes would open, and she would vigilantly look around with a weapon in hand.

While others slumbered, she sat with Pastor Salem, preparing for his next special broadcast to the world in which he would declare the fate of Islands like St. Margarita.

****

Fort Slide desert.

Carson Warnock tried to light a cigar, but his lighter was not working. He cursed silently as he pondered on what to do next so that he could keep sleep at bay. He was waiting for the return of the second group of experts that had been sent to study what were being called sink holes that developed after a chemical weapon was released on a base.

That was what they were assuming. It was better than the nonsense Doctor Lexi Arvin had been spouting about aliens and crap like that.

Carson was impatient, he wanted to go ho, soak in a bath and change his boxer briefs. A man should never be forced to wear the sa boxer briefs for two days in a row.

He raised his arm and sniffed his pits. Not musty but not fresh.

He lowered his hand and brushed his fingers over the nine-milliter tucked into his belt. Carson could not recall when the last ti was that he fired it. Ever since he started working for the secret service, the weapon had grown rusty.

Nobody was trying to take out the president, which was a good thing but also dull.

"Carson, you lucky bastard. You get to relax at Fort Sill while the rest of us guard the Eagle as he snoggs his side piece." A humor filled voice shot through his ear fob.

"It is simply a sign that I am kissing the right asses above." Carson laughed.

He would not admit that the Fort Sill job was boring and probably a hoax. All the equipnt at the base had not been able to analyze what the mist was. He was worried that he would be stuck on the almost ghost state base for months.

He was still throwing himself a pity party when he heard a scream coming from sowhere in the distance. "They are dead, they are all dead." Soone shouted.

He grabbed his gun and run in the direction of the sound. Finally, so action!

****

Another restless person in the night was Jon Kingsley. He had called for a eting with so of his wealthy friends [10 in number] and the subject of their discussion was none other than Hades Quinn and his new wife.

They had already finished laughing about the "he married his housekeeper" part and now, they were discussing his entertainnt city.

The blueprints were on a table that was littered with cigars and glasses of various types of drinks. The eting was taking place in a country club for the wealthy.

"That ain’t no resort." Kris Scott, the grumpiest of the n said as he was blowing heavy smoke out of his mouth like a chimney. "I am in security, so I am speaking with confidence. Three walls, watch towers, guns and God knows what else. It ain’t no resort." He emphasized with his thick country accent.

Jon was glad that soone was seeing the sa thing he had noticed. "I also thought the three walls were a little too much. What the hell is he protecting?"

"His hot new young wife." Cory King snickered.

So of the n laughed.

"Maybe he does not want to pay his taxes." Another suggested.

They made suggestions, from funny to ridiculous and they kept it up for a good twenty minutes.

Corry run a hand through the right side of his blonde hair. "If he needs three walls to protect his wife from the outside world because of her shopaholic habit then he must have underestimated how online shopping works. My wife’s cart reloads very fast and very loudly. Every notification on her phone gives heart burn."

Again, the n laughed.

"At least she does not wear heels. You should see my girlfriend’s shoe budget." One spoke loudly.

"Just buy a shoe factory." Another advised.

Jon cleared his throat and threw down his chips because nobody was really playing poker. "Gentlen, put the jokes on a burner. Trevor, my assistant...."

"The boy with the big glasses which never fit." Cory interrupted.

"That’s him." Jon barely nodded as he acknowledged Trevor’s identity. "He handed a brochure that is being distributed around the city. He says it originated from Quinn manor."

He gave the brochure to Cory. Trevor had been wise enough to bring five copies, and Jon distributed them as well.

"What the fuck?" Kris sat up, putting out his cigar absentmindedly.