am-books Chapter 8: Deadly Daily Missions.
Chapter 8: Deadly Daily Missions.
Chapter 8: Deadly Daily Missions.
Hugo sat in his hospital bed, staring at the large water jug the system had materialised beside him.
After he had recovered from the pain of adding a stat point, the system had initialised his daily missions.
[Drink a gallon of water in one go.]
A gallon of water didn't seem like much—until he actually had to drink it all in one go. His stomach gurgled nervously at the thought.
He felt like he was about to scale Mount Everest, and his mouth was base camp.
"Alright, Hugo, you've got this," he muttered, "How hard could it be? It's just water. People drink this stuff all the time. Heck, I've seen bodybuilders chug this like it's nothing!"
He took a deep breath and began to drink, the cold water rushing down his throat in what he hoped was a heroic display of manliness.
He imagined himself as one of those cool action heroes who could down a pint in a single gulp and then smash the glass on the counter.
Only instead of a pint, it was a gallon, and instead of smashing a glass, he was starting to feel like he was about to smash his bladder.
After the first few gulps, he felt a sense of pride—he was doing it! But by the halfway mark, Hugo started to feel queasy.
The more he drank, the more his stomach rebelled. He was bloating up like a water balloon, and it felt like any moment now, he was going to burst.
By the time he reached the last quarter of the jug, Hugo was visibly wobbling. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he forced himself to down the final drops.
The moment he set the empty jug down, a wave of nausea hit him like a freight train.
He belched loudly, the sound echoing through the hospital ward like a foghorn.
His eyes widened in horror as he felt something bubbling up from deep within, a pressure building that was as unstoppable as a volcanic eruption.
"No, no, no..." Hugo whispered, desperately clenching his lips together, but it was too late.
What started as a burp quickly escalated into a full-blown geyser.
Water shot out of his mouth in a powerful stream, spraying across the room like a misfiring firehose. The bed, the floor, and even the ceiling didn't escape the aquatic onslaught.
Hugo's cheeks puffed out as he tried to regain control, but his efforts were futile. The pressure in his gut was relentless, and he was just along for the ride.
The sound echoed through the ward, drawing the attention of the nearby nurses.
One of the nurses rushed into the room just in time to get a face full of what she assumed was vomit, causing her to shriek and slip on the rapidly forming puddle.
In a desperate attempt to save what little dignity he had left, Hugo clamped his hands over his mouth, but the geyser of water found another exit.
It shot out of his nose with enough force to make him momentarily wonder if he'd broken something important.
He looked like a malfunctioning garden sprinkler, swivelling his head in panic as he tried to avoid spraying more innocent bystanders.
But the chaos didn't end there. The water pooled on the floor, creating a slippery hazard that sent another nurse skidding across the room like a contestant on an ill-fated game show.
Minutes passed, each one dragging on like a year. Just as Hugo was starting to think he might actually get away with it, disaster struck.
A nurse, oblivious to Hugo's delicate situation, knocked on the door and immediately began to enter.
Hugo's eyes snapped open, and in a blind panic, he tried to pull the blinds closed while simultaneously yanking his gown down.
But instead of a smooth, graceful movement, Hugo's coordination failed him spectacularly. The blinds tangled in his hand, the gown got caught on the windowsill, and before he knew it, he was tumbling backward out the window.
By some miracle, Hugo managed to catch himself on the edge of the sill, his legs dangling out into the courtyard.
Unfortunately, this left his gown hiked up around his waist, fully exposing his sunbathing mission to the world below.
From his precarious position, Hugo had a perfect view of the courtyard, and the courtyard had a perfect view of him.
There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone—nurses, patients, kids—turned to stare at the strange man hanging halfway out of the hospital window, his bare behind glowing like a neon sign.
A horrified gasp went up from the crowd. An elderly woman clutched her pearls, a nurse dropped her coffee, and a child pointed and shouted, "Mummy, why's that man got his bum in the window?"
Hugo's face flushed a deep crimson as he struggled to pull himself back into the room, but his sweat-slicked hands were slipping, and his gown was not cooperating.
"No, no, no!" he whimpered, trying desperately to maintain what little dignity he had left.
Mustering all the strength he could, he managed to pull himself back through the window.
But just as he was about to slip back into his room, the blinds came crashing down, wrapping around his legs and sending him plummeting backward into the room.
He landed in a heap on the floor, tangled in the blinds, his gown completely askew.
The door burst open, and the nurse—along with a couple of concerned orderlies—rushed in.
"What in the world...?" the nurse began, but her voice trailed off as she took in the scene: Hugo, sprawled on the floor like a human pretzel, the blinds twisted around his legs, and the hospital gown barely covering the essentials.
"I... uh... I was just..." Hugo stammered, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. But what could he say? "I was trying to catch some rays"?
The nurse's expression was a mixture of confusion, concern, and something that looked suspiciously like pity.
"Are you... okay?" she asked, though she seemed more concerned with keeping a straight face than anything else.
"Never better," Hugo groaned, attempting to disentangle himself from the blinds with what little dignity he could muster. "Just... working on my tan."
The nurse raised an eyebrow but wisely chose not to ask any more questions.
She turned to the orderlies and motioned for them to help Hugo back into bed, which they did with a level of professionalism that Hugo was grateful for, even as he tried to pull his gown back into place.
As they left, Hugo sank back onto the bed, pulling the covers over his head in shame. The system chimed in cheerfully in his ear,
[Congratulations, Hugo! Mission accomplished. 30 minutes of sunlight exposure achieved!]
Hugo wanted to cry but didn't have any tears. This system would be the death of him!