Immortal In A Death Game

Chapter 250: Oldheads

"All done, sir. Thank you very much."

"No, thank you."

Adam lowered his sleeve, his green eyes reflecting the slosh of his blood inside a bag as the doctor stored it inside a refrigerator. He tilted his head, looking at all the other bags that filled the blood bank.

"Do you think that’s enough?" Adam asked, standing up from the chair and lightly pushing away the large lamp over his head. "I can spend a few more minutes on the chair."

The doctor quickly closed the refrigerator, vehemently shaking his head and waving his arms at Adam.

"This is more than enough, Sir!" the doctor hollered. "The researchers would be happy already with this!"

"Hm..." Adam nodded, sighing as he looked at the other side of the room, which was filled with all sorts of monitors. "We’re... still not making any progress, huh?"

"I... We’re sorry, Sir."

"What? No." Adam quickly glanced back at the doctor. "All of you have done a wonderful job. It’s my... blood that’s not cooperating—if only we can donate it, then it would at least be useful for something."

"Sir Adam. Please, don’t speak like that!" The doctor almost seemed insulted for Adam by what he said to himself.

"Because of all the organs you donated, all the blood you gave—your contribution to the medicine world had made it possible for it to advance fifty—no. A hundred years. We have learned how to preserve organs longer," the doctor continued to ramble. "Ultra-stable blood clotting agents, neural degeneration treatment, and not to mention the advancements in surgical methods. And most importantly... A-120. The perfect anesthetic."

Adam watched as the doctor pulled something from his lab coat pocket, clasped his hands together, and then raised the small vial he was holding.

"Absolutely no side effects. Can be applied to babies, pregnant women, geriatric patients... Ah..."

Adam squinted, slightly taking a step back as the doctor’s voice started to tremble.

"Why are you carrying that in your pocket?" Adam asked. "Surrender that to the—"

"This has saved tens of millions of lives, made childbirth complications non-existent..."

"Are you listening to me? Surrender that to—"

Before Adam could finish, a voice rang from the speaker. He glanced back and saw an older Leona waving and smiling at him from the observation room.

"...Oh," Adam muttered. He then turned his focus back to the New Hospital’s lead researcher, who was... now shaking his hips while hugging the vial. Perhaps... it was best to just leave him alone.

"Yeah. I’ll... meet you in the hallway."

A few minutes later, Adam stepped out into the hallway—everyone there immediately acknowledged his presence, smiling at him and greeting him. And unlike with the people who were worshipping him under the Church, Adam greeted the people of the New Hospital back.

Leona seemed incredibly used to this, as she just quietly walked beside him, carrying an almost gentle smile on her face like she was Adam’s grandmother—and from how close they walked together, the outside world would probably think that she really was.

And soon, they reached an area that was devoid of any doctors, off-limits to anyone but him, Leona, and a select few individuals—it was the hall where all things possibly related to Adam’s past were kept... just with little upgrades.

Like the large sliding door opening in front of them, their hydraulics hissed loudly from how thick and heavy they were. The musky and earthy smell quickly wafted through Adam’s nose, even from just the inch they revealed, but neither he nor Leona reacted to this and just stepped through the large door.

And there, the neat and organized story of his life... was no more. The hall looked like it had gone through a typhoon, and it even almost seemed like they were outside for a moment.

The ground was sand and dirt, and there were even hints of grass here and there—as for the ancient tablets, artifacts, and scriptures, well, they were still separated by category, but not neatly placed inside their glass cages.

Instead, the entire hall looked like a cave filled with treasures. But while it might seem chaotic to someone who was unfamiliar with it, those who know why it was organized that way also knew that everything was set up to properly tell a story. The hall felt alive... because in a way, it was.

Adam gazed down, stepping back as Leona’s tiny golems walked in front of him—one of them even had a flag attached to it, guiding the others like a traffic enforcer. And since Adam almost stepped on them, it looked up at Adam and started pointing at him angrily.

"...Sorry."

If there was anything truly out of place there, it was the large screen hanging from the ceiling that said 7,232.

"...I got older again?" Adam’s eyes widened.

Leona chuckled, but as she looked up at the screen, her eyes also widened.

"Oh..." she muttered, jogging toward a panel close to the sliding door. "...That’s the wrong number."

"Good." Adam sighed in relief... but then his expression just fell when he saw the number increase to over 9,000. "That... can’t be right."

"Quite possibly." Leona shrugged, gesturing to Adam to walk ahead. "You might be even older, Adam."

Adam didn’t really know how to respond to that and just stopped in front of a large, ancient, square brick. It had symbols and drawings on it, but most of them were already scratched by time.

It was enough, however, to make out a symbol that was incredibly similar to one of the symbols from the parchments recovered somewhere in Italy.

Adam gazed down at the label hanging next to it that said, ’A Piece of Sun-Brick, Recovered from the remnants of a Ziggurat, Iraq-Western Iran’.

"Still amazes me ’til today," Leona hummed, "Italy and Iraq, almost 3,000 miles apart—that distance wasn’t a joke back then. But what truly amazes me is that they’re over 2,000 years apart... and yet they carry the same symbol. Amazing."

"Hm..." Adam only nodded in response before walking away.

"Still don’t remember anything else about the Administrators that showed themselves in front of you during your Mesopotamia days?" Leona followed, walking close beside him.

"No." Adam once again stopped, this time looking at a statue carved from sandstone. The sculpture had a human body, with its head covered with a large beak—there were, however, parts of its lower face exposed.

"I still can’t see it," he whispered. "This isn’t me.

He then pointed at a marble statue next to it. "That’s also not me."

"You’ve been denying that for more than ten years now, Adam."

"Because they’re not me," he argued, walking away before Leona could rebuke. And very soon, they reached the center of the hall.

Leona no longer followed him, and yet stayed outside the circle that was drawn on the floor. She pulled her glasses from her pocket, and a hint of light could be seen coming from their lenses. She tapped and swiped in the air before waving her hand and looking at Adam.

"Ready?" she asked, and Adam only raised his thumb in response.

Leona swiped her hand in the air again, and the entire hall was instantly veiled in darkness—this did not last long, however, as several holographic images started materializing around Adam.

The holographic images formed a forest, and the hall was also soon surrounded by the sound of nature. The image shifted after a moment, replaced by the view of an ancient city—and then, a desert.

These transitions were happening repeatedly while Adam just stood at the center, studying the images as they moved... exposing himself in the different parts of history to see if he remembered anything.

The scenery continued to shift, and Adam’s eyes followed and moved uncontrollably—and soon...

"Adam...a..."

He gasped, taking a step back as the face of a woman he couldn’t quite fully describe flashed in his mind. Leona quickly swiped her hand upon hearing this, turning on the lights of the hall as she rushed to Adam’s side.

"What is it?!" Leona leaned down. "Did you remember something?"

"No... It’s that woman again," Adam whispered, clasping his forehead.

"Again?" Leona sighed in disappointment. "Are you sure it’s a memory from your time in the Old Hospital? We’ve already scrubbed their database and found all the people who worked here back then."

"I’m sure..." Adam hesitated. "...Why else would she be calling me Adam?"

He shook his head, also sighing in disappointment as they hadn’t recovered any of his memories even after all these years.

"Huh..." Leona shrugged at that, removing her glasses and putting some pressure on her eyeballs.

"Are... you alright?"

"I’m getting old, Adam." Leona waved him off. "I want to discover the mystery behind you before I join Sabrina and the others. Seriously, how is it that the oldest among us are the ones still alive today? Me, Beatrice, Caleb... you."

"I heard bad people die last." Adam looked her in the eyes.

"Ha!" Leona only grinned at him. "I wish. That way, they would suffer you for a very long time."

"It... feels wrong, huh?" Adam whispered. "We’ve... gotten used to people dying."

"It is. Even now, I’m just waiting for hell to take me. I’ve even bought a coffin and a funeral plan for myself."

"You have? Should I also do that?"

"...And do what with it?" Leona chuckled. "And Adam... I really am sorry that you’ll be watching me wither away and die, too."

"That..." Adam looked down. His words were almost droning. "...It’s okay."

"If you say so. Anyway, I have a favor to ask."

"Ramen?"

"No. Well, yes—but not that." Leona rolled her eyes at Adam, then a gentle smile crept on her face. "...My daughter survived her 6th Game."

"That’s great! Ha..." Adam’s breath trembled. "I’ve... been meaning to ask."

"You think I’d be here with you if my daughter died?" Leona didn’t shy away and burst out in laughter that lasted for several seconds. If it wasn’t for her losing breath, she would’ve probably laughed the entire day.

But after she was done, she placed her hand on Adam’s shoulder and said,

"I wanted to ask you to go join her in her first Leak as a registered Hero. Please?"

"Oh..." Adam muttered upon hearing her request.

"...Can’t you just be happy with the pizza?"