Editing Toaru Majutsu no Index:GT Volume6 Chapter4 (section)

===Part 2===

The riot never ended no matter where they went.

Kumokawa Seria and Index worked together to carry the Bologna Succubus who kept bleeding despite the handkerchief against her wound, but there was so much violence everywhere that they didn’t stand out much.

(Really, keeping her upright where gravity drags the blood down to her legs is a bad idea when her blood pressure is so unstable.)

“Ugh,” groaned the Bologna Succubus.

But not because she had regained consciousness. The words leaving her mouth were complete nonsense. Her pink wings were asymmetrically half-opened like a broken umbrella and she appeared to be having a terrible nightmare while on the verge of death.

Yes, she managed to speak even with her voice breaking apart at times.

“You need to run away, boy. Kshrrrr. Aradia is coming…”

(Damn, now we definitely have to save her!!)

Kumokawa operated her phone with just one hand while supporting the injured demoness.

“A general hospital accepting emergency outpatients would be best, but where even is one near here?”

“What about that arrow sign pointing toward a Centroid General Hospital!?”

“It’s too far! It’s around a kilometer from the scramble crossing, but that’s a long way at the moment. Do you have any idea how long traveling just 100m will take in this riot!?”

They heard a deluge of angry voices as loud as a roaring stadium.

It came from nearby.

Kumokawa ducked while supporting the limp Bologna Succubus, glanced down at her phone, and clicked her tongue.

“The other side of the station has been completely swallowed up by people. And there was a large hospital with a cross mark on it there.”

“What about an ophthalmologist? Or a dermatologist?”

“Or a dentist? I doubt they would have enough fluid for a transfusion, though. Damn, should I eliminate the one-room clinics from my search?”

The woman in a long maternity dress and a large hat interrupted their discussion.

“Use that.”

“?”

The first to react was not Index, but Kumokawa.

An ambulance was parked on the curb below the toxic neon sign for a club.

The driver’s side door, passenger side door, and the back door all sat open. It was empty. It must have been caught in the riot without an emergency patient inside, so the crew had been forced to abandon it.

Index’s face lit up as she supported the Bologna Succubus from behind with the cat still on her head.

“I know what an ambulance is! It might have tools for treating hurt people!”

“I have my doubts. Just look at it.”

Kumokawa was skeptical, but she still approached the ambulance.

“I don’t think it has any of that fluid you were talking about,” said Index.

“No saline and no Ringer’s solution. Only disinfectant for washing wounds. Damn, and an ordinary blood pack doesn’t help us here.”

The driver and EMTs must have felt they were in serious danger when they abandoned the ambulance. The doors were still open and the glove box sat unnaturally open.

“The ambulance’s registration and radio were both stolen.”

Kumokawa Seria checked through it all before looking in a completely different direction.

Then she smiled.

“But this might be our chance.”

“?”

She led everyone to a nearby coin-operated parking area. It was full of boxy light vehicles with sleeping bags inside and four-wheel-drive vehicles full of audio equipment, so they likely belonged to club workers who couldn’t get a parking space. But there was one big truck that didn’t fit in. Kumokawa circled to the rear container and whispered a suggestion to Good, Old Mary.

“(I don’t know how exactly you people do what you do and I don’t care. Just tell me whether or not you ''can'' do one thing.)”

“What might that be?”

“(There are two people inside. If you can incapacitate them through the door, then do it.)”

It didn’t even take a second.

Good, Old Mary stood entirely still, so it wasn’t clear what she even did. She didn’t pull out any obvious weapon or even touch the camping kitchen tools hanging from her thick belt.

Several loud explosions sounded from within the rectangular container, the metal double doors on the back bent outwards, and one of them was blown off, spinning toward the girls. Kumokawa and Index quickly dodged out of the way. It stabbed deep into the hood of a car parked behind them and its alarm started blaring.

Good, Old Mary had not moved a millimeter the entire time, but now she tilted her head and large hat.

“All done.”

“Okay, maybe it was my fault for not specifying you do it quietly, but I thought that went without saying!!”

“What is this?”

Index peeked inside the truck and tilted her head enough the cat had to scramble to avoid slipping off. A man in a white coat and a sexy nurse lay collapsed and motionless inside the container. Something violent had clearly happened in there, yet nothing other than the targets received so much as a scratch.

Kumokawa didn’t remove her coat or her shoes. She just climbed inside, started to step over the unconscious man, remembered she was wearing a skirt, and opted to walk around him instead. The walls and ceiling were covered with thick tarps and a movable chair similar to a dentist’s sat in the center.

Lots of medical equipment was installed all around it.

“This is probably a back alley doctor’s base of operations,” said Kumokawa with some exasperation in her voice. “An ambulance’s radio uses the same special standards as the police and fire fighters. Someone might steal that to call the police for help since their phone doesn’t work. But they wouldn’t have any use for the ambulance registration. Only someone who needs an example to counterfeit their own would have any use for it, so I knew someone like that had to be nearby.”

“But how did you know that back alley doctor would be in this truck?” asked Index. “There were a lot of buildings around.”

“These people from the underside of society love their metal containers. There are a lot of container labs and homes in Academy City too. Although those workaholics on the dark side may have seen their lab and their home as one and the same.” Kumokawa shrugged and got to the point. “Anyway, we just need something that won’t trigger a rejection. Where do they keep a kit of usable fluid? This place is meant for surgery. Whether they’re setting bones, burning off fingerprints, remaking a face, or handling a runaway criminal’s cavity or appendicitis, they would need some way of cleaning the wound.”

Good, Old Mary commented while standing tall and motionless.

She spoke plainly but managed to sound friendly.

“There is no need to hurry. The quality of the preparations and work matter more than the time. As long as you get her blood pressure stabilized, mama’s resurrection will work even if you were injecting the fluid into a very recently deceased corpse. So it is not too late even if the Bologna Succubus has been declared dea-”

“Shut up a moment.”

“…”

She really did shut up.

That Transcendent was weirdly obedient, although it may have been a way of teasing people or of demonstrating her superiority. Kumokawa herself found it kind of awkward because it made her feel like the bad guy.

They tilted the chair back as far as it would go before laying the Bologna Succubus in it. Then Kumokawa faced the wall, opened the fridge there, and found several thick plastic bags full of fluid.

“Here we go.”

“Hm? Is that the fluid?” asked Index. “But it isn’t red at all.”

“It doesn’t have to be blood. The shock of blood loss is actually caused by the rapid change in blood pressure. It’s better if the fluid can transport oxygen and nutrients, of course, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

Kumokawa pulled out a pack of a translucent and somewhat yellowish fluid. The truck only had one in stock, which was just like a back alley doctor. They weren’t a general hospital prepared for emergency patients 24 hours a day.

“This is an iron distribution fluid. Really, any fluid that wouldn’t trigger rejection would work if all we need is to keep the blood pressure from dropping too much. You there, find a vein in her elbow. Wipe her skin off with some ethanol and then-”

''Bang!!

Kumokawa Seria was cut off by the blast of an explosive.

It came from the back alley doctor’s handgun.

She held the right side of her face and shouted with all her might.

“Good, Old Mary! Do it right this time!!”

“Sigh. (Mama incapacitated him just like you asked. If you wanted him dead, you should have said so.)”

“Hurry! And don’t kill him!!”

With a wet splat, the plastic handgun burst and the man’s futile attempt to get up from the floor ended. His groaning meant he was still alive…for now anyway. His body seemed weirdly distorted, like a roach that refused to die after being partially squished by a slipper.

(Does everyone named Mary or Maria have to be a troublemaker? My sister also gets carried away and never plans anything out properly.)

Index looked at the hand Kumokawa was holding to her face.

“A-are you okay?”

“Yes. That’s not my brains splattered on my face. It’s the package I was holding.”

But Kumokawa did not look happy. With the pack of fluid blown away, they couldn’t heal the Bologna Succubus. A fluid full of salt, iron, and electrolytes could be created with kitchen tools, but she had severe doubts they could disinfect it enough to be safe for transfusion.

That meant they had to find a replacement somewhere.

And a properly sealed product with guaranteed professional quality.

“Damn, I guess we need a proper medical facility after all. The closest hospital is- oh, hell! The fluid is all over the screen! Let’s see…”

“It has to be closer than Centroid General Hospital,” said Index.

“I know that,” muttered Kumokawa.

There was another large hospital with a large cross mark on it, but there had been a largescale riot in that direction. Breaking through the rioters while carrying an injured woman wouldn’t be possible.

“This looks like the only place that would have everything needed to keep her blood pressure from dropping and save her life.”

“?”

Index peered at the screen and tilted her head. Kumokawa understood the confusion, but it was their last option.

The level of service at such a place was wildly variable. This one could be little more than a tanning salon, but there were more of them of them in Shibuya than there were gyudon shops.

The problem was if they would be open during the riot. Breaking the glass door was always an option, but not causing the workers unnecessary trouble would be preferable.

Kumokawa glanced over at the Transcendent.

(Having an overpowered fighter is convenient, but I don’t want to get too reliant on her. That back alley doctor with a handgun is one thing, but I don’t want to leave decent people twitching on the floor like that.)

“Do you need something?”

“No, not really.”

“(Mama didn’t kill him just like you asked. Mama kept her promise, so why look at her like she’s a monster? It hardly seems fair.)”

“What is this mama nonsense? Are you lonely because your daughter is in a rebellious phase? Anyway, we need to try everything we can. This is Shibuya and it’s New Year’s Eve. If this riot settles down, the building should open its doors.”

The Transcendent was dejectedly poking at the cat’s forehead and radiating a desire for soothing, but Kumokawa just lifted the Bologna Succubus onto her back again.

And then she noticed something.

“Hold on. Where did that little one go?”