Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse With My Military System

Chapter 182 Returning to Base

Chapter 182 Returning to Base

Thirty minutes after the fight, a Blackhawk helicopter arrived at Graves' location. It hovered overhead, kicking up dust and leaves. The rotors' noise broke the silence of the forest. The helicopter lowered, finding a spot to land in the small clearing. Graves saw the door open and special forces stepped out and fanned out around the area. They quickly surveyed the surroundings for any remaining threats.

One of the team members approached Graves with a nod. "Specter-1, we're here to get you out. Any hazards we should be aware of?"

Graves shook his head. "Area's clear. The targets have been neutralized. Haven't you been briefed?"

The team member gave a brief, almost imperceptible smile. "Just the following protocol, Specter-1. We've got to make sure everything's safe before we move out."

Graves understood the necessity of the routine checks. He climbed into the helicopter, finding a seat among the other special forces operatives. The interior was cramped, filled with equipment and the smell of sweat and metal. As the helicopter ascended, the forest below became a blend of greens and browns, the site of the recent battle quickly disappearing from view.

During the flight, the team remained mostly silent, each member occupied with their own thoughts or checking their gear. Until—the leader spoke.

"Sir Graves, I was briefed that you were engaged in an intense battle with the magic users, and knocked you out unconscious. Are you injured in any way? We have medics attached to our unit, perhaps he can check you out. But of course, that would mean removing your combat suit."

Graves sighed. They'd pester him if he were to deny their request.

"Alright," he said, resigning himself to the inevitable. He started to deactivate his suit, revealing his physical state underneath. They noticed the deep wound on his forehead, still bleeding slightly.

One of the medics stepped forward immediately, his kit ready. "Sir, you have a laceration on your forehead. Let's address that right away," the medic said as he opened his medical kit, revealing an array of supplies.

He first put on a pair of sterile gloves, then gently cleaned around Graves' wound with an antiseptic wipe, being careful not to aggravate it further. After the initial cleaning, he took a closer look at the laceration. "It's about two centimeters long, not too deep but it's definitely going to need stitches," he informed Graves.

Using a saline solution, the medic irrigated the wound to flush out any debris and reduce the risk of infection. He then prepared a suture kit, selecting a fine, non-absorbable nylon thread for the stitches. "I'm going to apply a local anesthetic before I start suturing. You'll feel a small pinch," he warned.

After injecting the anesthetic around the wound site, the medic waited a few moments for it to take effect. He then began the delicate process of suturing, using a simple interrupted stitch technique for optimal closure and healing.

Once the suturing was complete, he applied a thin layer of antibiotic ointment over the wound to prevent infection and covered it with a sterile adhesive bandage. "Keep this dry and clean. We'll have a medic at the base take a look at it when we land, and they'll likely schedule a follow-up for stitch removal in about a week," he instructed.

"Thank you," Graves said genuinely.

"Just doing my job sir. Are there any areas on your body that may need fixing?" the medic asked.

Graves checked his body for pain and there were multiple areas that made him wince in pain. One at the back, and the second one being on the left side of his ribs.

He lifted up his shirt, revealing a well-physique body marked with bruises and contusions. The medic's eyes immediately assessed the areas. "Let's check those out," he said.

First, he examined the area on Graves' back. "Looks like you've got a contusion here," the medic noted. He gently palpated around the area, checking for any signs of a more serious injury like a fracture. "No deformity or instability, which is good. It's likely a deep tissue bruise. Ice it when you can, and keep an eye on it. If the pain worsens or you have trouble moving, let us know immediately."

Next, the medic turned his attention to Graves' ribs. He palpated the area, noting Graves' reaction to the pressure. "You're showing signs of a possible rib contusion, maybe even a minor fracture," he said. "We can't confirm without an X-ray, but for now, we'll treat it as a fracture to be safe."

He reached into his medical kit and pulled out a roll of cohesive bandage. "I'm going to wrap your ribs. This will help stabilize the area and reduce movement, which should ease the pain. Try to avoid any strenuous activities. Once we're back, you'll need an X-ray to assess the extent of the injury."

As the medic wrapped the bandage around Graves' torso, he made sure it was snug but not too tight to restrict breathing. "Breathe normally for me, make sure it's not too constricting," he instructed. Graves took a few breaths, indicating that the tightness was acceptable.

"Alright, that should hold for now. When we land, head straight to the medical unit. They'll take over from there and provide further treatment," the medic concluded, packing up his kit.

Thirty minutes later. Graves arrived at the command center of the Blackwatch Oriental. The Ayala North Exchange Tower 1. At the rooftop, Graves could see Richard standing there, watching as the helicopter made it to the landing pad. The rotors slowed, and the dust settled as the door opened. Graves stepped out, feeling the solid ground under his feet. The medic followed closely, giving him a final nod before heading off to report to the medical unit.

Richard approached him, his expression serious. "Graves, you made it back. How are you holding up?" he asked, eyeing the bandage on Graves' forehead and the wrapped ribs.

Graves gave a small nod. "I've been better, but nothing too serious. The medics did their job."

Richard's gaze lingered on the injuries for a moment longer before he shifted focus. "Well. Upon leaving the area, we scanned for the locations of the magic user. We found nothing. We know whether they are still in the country or not. But one thing we can be certain of, albeit not sure, is that they are trying to rendezvous with their master. Now, I'm planning something unconventional as a way of retaliating back."

"Which is what…sir?" Graves asked curiously.

Richard smiled as he opened his system and browsed his shop tab. There, he found what he was looking for.

"I came across this weapon that we can use to tell the progenitor that we are a force to be reckoned with."

]

"And that weapon is?"

Richard read the name of the weapon. "W Sixty."