The era of magic and martial arts

Chapter 228 I am not a human

Facts have proved that people cannot shed tears when they are in the most painful and desperate times.

Wang Cong is in this state now.

He stepped out of the coldness of the morgue, like a walking corpse that had lost its soul, moving mechanically to the ward.

His eyes were empty and fell numbly on the hospital bed, where his dead father lay.

The latter's body was cold and stiff, and his exposed skin was covered with corpse spots, but he could not smell the smell of decay because the hospital wrapped him in a layer of transparent plastic wrap.

After all, there were other patients in the room, and the hospital was afraid that they wouldn't be able to stand his "body odor."

Wang Cong looked down and saw that his father's nose was still stuffed with a catheter. The ventilator connected to the catheter was still running nonstop, and the total amount of ventilation was recorded on the screen.

Like the meter on a taxi, it jumps up every second.

And the most paradoxical thing is that the ventilation frequency of this ventilator is obviously several times that of other hospital beds.

The reason is very scientific, because other patients are still alive. They mainly breathe on their own, and the ventilator only assists. Every time they take a breath, the lungs cannot fully expand, and they breathe shallowly.

The dead body breathes passively throughout the entire process, and the ventilator is the main force. Every breath ensures that the lungs can expand and contract to the maximum extent. This kind of deep breathing is even an ideal state that some advanced warriors dream of.

The heart rate monitor next to the ventilator is also silently performing its duties. What is displayed on the screen is a straight line without any fluctuations.

The good news is that because this straight line lacks any fluctuation frequency, the billing system does not charge by the time, but by the hour, and the cost is much cheaper than a ventilator.

The nurse next to me is still asking dutifully: "Mr. Wang Cong, do you want to extubate your father now?"

Wang Cong no longer had the strength to be angry, and his heart seemed to have been drained.

He mechanically reached out and tore off the tube from his father's body, letting it fall to the ground with a crisp sound.

The nurse recorded the extubation time and entered the value of the one-second pause on the ventilator into the tablet.

The nurse calmly notes the time of extubation and then enters the value of the second the ventilator was paused into the tablet computer.

She turned the tablet over, facing the screen towards Wang Cong, gently slid her finger across the screen, and showed him the bill: "So far, the total expenses incurred during your father's hospitalization are as follows..."

She paused and continued: "After deducting all fees, the account balance is 13,114 yuan. If you have no objection, please sign here to confirm."

Wang Cong did not notice that in the last column of the bill, a new charge for conduit loss had just been filled in.

Wang Cong ignored the nurse's voice, but slowly bent down and held the body tightly wrapped in plastic wrap in his arms. However, when he turned around and stepped out, his steps suddenly froze.

The money in his bank card and the merit points in his citizen account are not enough to buy or redeem a cemetery, so his best way is to cremate the body and put it in a box.

The female nurse was used to seeing this kind of scene, and she said very considerately: "Do you need the hospital to call you a special car from the incineration plant?"

Wang Cong had no tears and forgot the pain. He only felt it was very ridiculous.

The dedication of the hospital is laughable, the selflessness of the parents is laughable, the absurdity of the world is laughable, and my own despair is laughable.

Wang Cong said hoarsely: "Go to the incineration plant where my mother was taken away."

The female nurse replied calmly: "I understand, the cost of the special car to contact the incineration plant will be deducted from the balance of your father's account."

As she said this, she handed the tablet to Wang Cong. He took the electronic pen and mechanically signed his name on the screen.

The special bus from the incineration plant is fully booked and will not arrive until three hours later.

Wang Cong held his father's body numbly and sat on the bench in the hospital corridor. Because when he signed, the discharge procedures had been completed, and the empty bed had already received a new patient.

Fortunately, the benches in the corridor are free, and Wang Cong can wait patiently here

Wang Cong's head fell back weakly, with the back of his head pressed against the cold wall, his eyes empty, staring at the flawless white ceiling.

The corners of his mouth twitched from time to time, and he let out a burst of laughter that was worse than crying.

My parents are dead.

The house is gone.

The hope of climbing up is gone.

Wang Cong's eyes were filled with complete darkness. This time, there was really no light at all. Not only did he fail to break free from the quagmire, but he seemed to fall into an even deeper abyss of despair.

At this moment, Wang Cong's heart was filled with coldness, a coldness that was even more piercing than the corpse in his arms.

The clock in the corridor is still ticking slowly, as if silently telling the passage of time, and Wang Cong, in this ruthless beat, is quietly waiting, waiting for the next answer that fate will give him.

A corpse truck from an incineration plant slowly stopped at the entrance of the hospital.

The car door opened, and a man in a green coat, holding a cigarette in his mouth, took two heavy puffs, then threw the cigarette butt on the ground, stamped it out with his toes, and then walked quickly into the hospital.

Before he could get closer, the peculiar smell of corpses that had been burned all year round wafted into the corridor.

Before he even came closer, a strange smell of corpses that had been burned all year round wafted into the corridor.

Wang Jian directly found Wang Cong in the corridor and said calmly: "You called the car, right?"

Wang Cong slowly recovered, nodded stiffly, stood up, hugged his father's body tightly, and followed Wang Jian mechanically.

Wang Jian helped him lift the body into the car and fixed it, then slowly started the vehicle. He suddenly said to Wang Cong, who was sitting silently in the passenger seat, "You are Wang Cong, right?"

Wang Cong didn't want to speak, his eyes were dull.

Wang Jian smiled and said: "I also came to pull that corpse this afternoon. Her name is Liu Xiujuan. She is your mother, right?"

A flash of fluctuation flashed in Wang Cong's eyes, and his voice Low and trembling: "My mother's body is now...?"

Wang Jian answered calmly while driving intently:

"Normally, the hospital notifies the unclaimed body, and we will cremate it after we take it back. In most cases, the ashes will be flushed into the sewer."

Wang Cong's head hung low and his teeth were clenched, as if an invisible hand was tightly holding his heart. The severe pain made it almost impossible for him to breathe.

He wants to blame the hospital and the incineration plant, but the person he should blame the most is...himself!

Wang Jian's words continued: "But your mother's ashes were not washed away, but put in a box, because Feng Mu called me."

Wang Cong's body suddenly stopped, and his head suddenly raised: "Who are you talking about?"

Wang Jian was a little confused by Wang Cong's fierce reaction. He explained:

"Feng Mu, he told me that you are his current colleague and friend, and said that you were too late to go to the hospital today, so he gave special instructions. I want to arrange your mother's ashes properly. Isn't it strange that Feng Mu didn't mention this to you?" Wang Jian took out his mobile phone from his pocket and handed Wang Cong the call history displayed on the screen.

Wang Cong's eyes seemed to be fixed, staring at the call time marked "Feng Mu" on the screen of his mobile phone.

That time was deeply engraved in his memory. It was the time when he reported the progress to the warden, and it was also the time when Feng Mu led a group of prisoners into the incineration room.

If there hadn't been an accident that he didn't understand, then this phone call should have been Feng Mu's last phone call and last words in this world? ! !

Wang Jian suddenly slammed on the brakes and the vehicle stopped.

He turned his head in horror and saw Wang Cong slapping his cheek crazily. The force was so fierce that the latter's face instantly became swollen and bruised.

He was wailing for a while, laughing nervously for a while, with a bloody voice coming out of his throat. He only repeated one sentence back and forth:

"I am not a human, I am not a human..."

(End of this chapter)