Harold's eyelids drooped, heavy as lead, but he forced them open again.
The last thing he could risk was nodding off here, out in the open, with a half-dead stranger at his side and god-knew-what lurking in the fungal dark.
Instead, he turned back to the status screen.
The word Intern still gleamed there like a medal pinned to his chest.
He hadn't imagined it—he had advanced.
And if the last few days had taught him anything, advancement meant new tools, new chances.
That's when he noticed it.
A small, faint + symbol glowing next to his new Title.
Harold frowned, leaning closer though the image hovered behind his eyes.
"Well, don't hide secrets from me now."
He tapped it.
The screen flickered, then reshaped itself into a new list.
Lines of text unfolded neatly, each one pulsing faintly like they were waiting for him to choose.
Gainable Auxiliary Skills:
IV Insertion
Suction
Casting
Acupuncture
Acupressure
Moxibustion
Herbal Remedy
Stress Reduction Therapy
Nutrition & Dietary
Harold blinked.
His pulse quickened.
"Bloody hell…" He let out a low laugh, shaking his head. "I really am an intern now. That's the whole student rotation list if I've ever seen one."
His eyes moved down the options.
Some of them seemed practical.
Others… less so, at least in the beginning.
IV Insertion.
His hands twitched automatically at the thought.
He'd watched a thousand nurses slide cannulas into veins with terrifying efficiency.
But right now, he didn't have a steady supply of fluids to pump into anyone's veins—not even clean water, and given the way his skills worked, even if something was provided by the system it would likely be expired goods, or something as basic as saline.
Suction.
He pictured the vacuum tubes, the sharp hiss of phlegm or blood being cleared from a throat so someone could breathe again.
That… that could save a life, here and now.
Casting.
Broken bones would be common in this brutal world, and splints could only take him so far.
If he could truly immobilize a fracture, give real structure back to someone's limb, that could mean the difference between walking again or dying in the dirt.
Then came the stranger entries, well strange to him since he'd worked in a Western hospital, and had only heard of them as Chinese or Eastern medicine, sometimes called Holistic medicine.
Acupuncture.
He wrinkled his nose.
He'd heard about it, sure.
Never believed much in it.
Acupressure, same camp—pressure points and palm presses.
Folk remedies, maybe useful, maybe not, more in line with chiropractics if you asked him though.
But the system didn't waste slots.
If it was here, it must matter.
The last four—Moxibustion, Herbal Remedy, Stress Reduction Therapy, Nutrition & Dietary.
Half of them sounded like alternative medicine pamphlets from the wellness corner of a drugstore.
But… maybe in a world where glowing mushrooms grew taller than buildings, "alternative" didn't mean "nonsense."
Still, he only had three picks.
He rubbed his chin, forcing his tired mind to focus.
"Suction, Casting, and… hell, let's gamble. Acupressure."
The words left his lips, and the screen pulsed with acknowledgment.
New Skills Acquired:
Suction [Level 0] (0 / 10)
Casting [Level 0] (0 / 10)
Acupressure [Level 0] (0 / 10)
The names slotted themselves neatly into his panel, each one a seed waiting to be watered.
Harold grinned despite the ache in his jaw.
"Alright then. Let's see what you've given me."
He willed the first skill forward.
And was less than impressed with what was provided...
To describe it would be to say someone gave him a wooden straw or a reed, that then had a simple clown nose style bulb on the end.
He squeezed the bulb, and it gave a wet squeak.
"Ugly as sin, but you'll do," he muttered, dismissing it.
After all this was just Level 0, the most basic tool for conducting suction after all.
Next came Casting.
Once more he could only groan, afterall the skill was called Casting, but what was provided... a pair of wooden dowel rods, that would work more like splints, and a roll of twine to secure them in place
"Primitive… but workable," Harold said, testing its give. "At least the dowels are better than the painter sticks from splinting."
He dismissed it and hesitated before calling up the third.
Acupressure.
This time, no tool appeared.
In fact nothing at all happened so far as he could tell.
What a gyp he thought, then again acupressure really doesnt use many tools so far as he knows, it was all about using your bare hands to target pressurepoints on the body.
Trying to do so to himself pressing on the ends of his own finger.
Harold's breath caught.
"That's… different."
The minute his activated hand reached his own pressure point, he could feel an upwelling of something flowing through him.
Ding.Acupressure +0.1
Harold's hand lingered over his other, wonder prickling at his fingertips.
"So it isn't superstition." He let out a soft chuckle. "Alright, System. You've got my attention."
He sat back, letting the skills fade.
His body screamed for rest, his stomach hollow.
But in spite of it all, he felt alive.
The system wasn't just throwing him scraps anymore.
It was handing him options, paths he could carve into something bigger.
His thoughts drifted to the woman.
She shifted faintly, her body twitching as though trapped in some half-dream.
A soft noise left her lips, neither word nor cry.
Her head-tentacles curled against her cheek before going still again.
Harold leaned forward instinctively, checking the rise and fall of her chest.
Still steady.
Not enough to wake—but enough to keep him hopeful.
"Easy," he whispered. "Don't force it. I'll keep you safe."
Then he realized how dim the fungal glow had become.
The towering caps around them were shading into darker hues, their light pulsing slower.
Evening—if such a thing existed here—was descending.
And with it, the predators.
Harold's jaw tightened.
He couldn't risk staying out here.
Not with her vulnerable.
Not with himself barely standing.
He pushed to his feet, joints cracking.
His legs trembled under his own weight, let alone hers.
But he didn't hesitate.
Carefully, he slid his arms beneath her, lifting her as best he could.
She was lighter than she looked—her bones felt hollow, her skin warm despite her wounds.
"Back to the cave, then," Harold muttered, shifting her against his chest. "We'll both sleep easier behind stone walls."
He glanced once more at the fading skill window.
Suction.
Casting.
Acupressure.
Three fragile sparks, but sparks nonetheless.
He adjusted his grip on the woman and stepped into the darkening forest.
Whatever tomorrow brought, he wasn't walking into it empty-handed.