The Caffeine System: Critical Heart Protocol

Chapter 11: Injuries and Snarky Comments

"Damn, that hurts!" Raka wanted to scream, but he was self-conscious. He was afraid that some strange creature would attack him. "So this is what it feels like to have a broken leg," he grumbled.

Every centimeter felt like a kilometer. Raka dragged his body and the precious sack of coffee across the wet asphalt. His broken ankle dangled uselessly, sending waves of searing pain through his nerves. The sound of the sack dragging across the concrete was the only sound he could hear.

“Anywhere as long as there is a place to take shelter,” he said softly.

He finally found shelter in a laundry shop with its door smashed in. The shop was located behind buildings facing the main road.

With the last of his strength, he pushed the sack in first and then crawled in, leaving a trail of dirty rainwater on the floor. The Baginda calmly flew low, entering along with the burlap sack filled with coffee.

Raka slammed the rickety iron door shut and leaned against it. Tears streamed down his cheeks. The pain in his leg was excruciating.

He dared to glance at his ankle. It was swollen and bluish-purple. He wouldn't be able to walk, let alone run. He was a crippled target.

“This… this is the end,” he groaned desperately.

As he hits rock bottom, a familiar blue panel appears with a cheerful tune that is completely inappropriate for his plight.

[Congratulations on successfully completing the Quest!]

[Reward: Portable Coffee Grinder (Level 1) has been added to your inventory.]

[Due to the Host's critical condition, the [Viewer Points Shop] feature is now open!]

A virtual showcase appeared before him displaying various items that could save his life.

- [Basic First Aid Kit]: 50 VP

- [Pain Relief Medicine (Single Dose)]: 100 VP

- [Instant Healing Ointment (Rare)]: 500 VP

- [Instant Coffee Sachet]: 10 VP

Hope flickered for a moment in Raka's chest. However, it was quickly extinguished when he saw his points balance in the top corner of the screen.

[Your Balance: 0 Viewer Points (VP)]

“Zero?” he whispered in disbelief. “After all that? That crazy jump? Fighting zombies in a falling truck? I got ZERO POINTS?!”

[The points from the previous Quest have been allocated for donation to the MVP, Baginda,] the System replied annoyingly.

Raka turned to look at Baginda, who was perched comfortably on top of one of the washing machines. The swan's body looked mysteriously dry and clean.

“Of course,” Raka sighed. Hatred and resignation warred within him.

The netizen chat column started to get busy.

[User666: Hahahaha, poor Host. He's already limping and poor too.]

[AnimalLover12: Oh my, poor him. His leg is broken. Can't we do anything?]

[CommentKing: Hmm… Admin, can we donate to this noob?]

There was a momentary pause, as if the System was considering.

[Request accepted. Crowdfunding feature activated. Target: 500 VP for [Instant Healing Ointment].]

A donation bar appears on the screen. The number is still zero.

[CommentKing: Of course there are conditions. Entertainment first, then donations. What if he does a challenge?]

[User666: Agreed! Tell him to dance! That viral TikTok dance!]

[AnimalLover12: But his leg is broken!]

[CommentKing: That's what makes it interesting. Do it secretly, of course.]

A new window appeared in front of Raka, displaying the official challenge.

[Donation Challenge: Do the 'Broken Heart Dance' for 30 seconds. Each second unlocks a donation from Netizens. Do it silently.]

Raka stared at the screen. His pride screamed 'no'. Every fiber of his being rejected the insult. But then, his ankle throbbed again with a pain that made him gasp. He needed that medicine. He needed that ointment to survive.

With a clenched jaw, Raka made his decision.

He dragged himself to the center of the room. He used a crowbar as a cane to stand on one leg. His face was pale and his eyes were blank. Tears flowed silently again. Not from physical pain, but from humiliation.

[Challenge starts in 3… 2… 1…]

Raka started dancing.

It was the saddest and most absurd sight imaginable. In the middle of a dark laundry shop, a dirty and badly injured man stood on one leg, performing a ridiculous dance in complete silence.

'Damn you, netizens!' Raka cursed in his heart. He was extremely annoyed but couldn't fight back this time.

His arms began to move stiffly, his hips trying to sway, while his broken leg just dangled. His face was expressionless, but the eyes screamed of agony.

The donation bar on his screen started filling up quickly.

[User666 contributed 50 VP: HAHAHAHA THIS IS THE BEST CONTENT!]

[CommentKing contributed 100 VP: That expression! Flat but suffering! Genius!]

[AnimalLover12 contributed 20 VP: Forgive us…]

Thirty seconds felt like thirty years. When the countdown ended, Raka collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath, his body shaking uncontrollably.

[Congratulations! Donation Target Achieved: 500 VP!]

[The item [Instant Healing Ointment] has been purchased and sent to your inventory.]

A small metal tube appeared in front of him. He reached for it with trembling hands, unscrewed the cap, and applied the cool contents to his swollen ankle.

A soothing sensation spread instantly, numbing the pain. He could feel and almost hear his bones shifting into place, his muscles and ligaments reattaching.

He closed his eyes, leaning against the washing machine. The pain was gone, but the shame remained like a burn.

“I swear,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with anger. “One day, I will find you, Admin. Whoever you are, I will punch you in the face.”

The laundry shop became his fortress. The ointment worked wonders, healing his leg 90% of the time. It still hurt a little when he ran, but he could walk. For those two days, Raka didn't just rest; he trained.

His recovery began. He did push-ups between heavy washing machines, his once-thin muscles beginning to bulge. He used his crowbar for weight training, swinging it repeatedly until his arms burned. He practiced his agility, jumping silently between furniture.

Baginda of course just perched comfortably on top of the washing machine while watching Raka train as if he were the real trainer.

In between training sessions, Raka finally enjoyed the fruits of his labor. Using his new portable grinder, he ground a handful of Gayo Arabica coffee beans.

The fragrant aroma of fresh coffee filled the room. He brewed it using a makeshift pour-over technique using a cloth strainer and boiled rainwater.

As he took his first sip of real coffee since the apocalypse began, he felt human again. A more stable strength flowed through him, unlike the panic-stricken jolt of instant coffee.

By the end of the second day, he felt ready. His legs and body were stronger. And most importantly, he had a sack full of premium coffee.

He stood by the destroyed door, staring out at the silent street.

“Baginda, it seems like it’s time for us to continue our journey to Monas,” he said to Baginda who was pecking at a dry biscuit that he had gotten from who knows where.

Baginda responded with a soft 'quack' sound then followed Raka out of the laundry.

As Raka was about to step out, a voice stopped him.

Tsss… Tsss… skreeet…

It wasn't the sound of rain. Raka looked up because the sound was coming from above. From the air vents in the ceiling.

Something thick and black dripped from the ventilation grille. The liquid fell to the floor with a soft hiss, emitting a thin, acid-smelling smoke.

"Baginda, we have guests," he whispered.

Behind the lattice, countless pairs of tiny red eyes glowed in the darkness. Something new had discovered it.