Doomsday America.

Chapter 287 Utter Revelry

"Welcome, you motherfucker... Ahhh, welcome, you motherfucker!"

Richard couldn't hold back any longer and finally started cursing again.

Although Richard was an excellent biology PhD with some medical knowledge, he knew that old Bert's actions were very efficient.

Although the actions were brutal, the methods were concise, efficient, and remarkably effective.

But it wasn't old Bert who was in pain!

Richard even felt like his brain was being torn apart and stirred up by old Bert!

Seeing Richard groaning in pain, old Bert glanced at Richard's bound hands and feet and grinned.

"This surgical equipment is really useful, Gavin. The deluxe operating room you gave your dad is a real gem; the fixation effect is excellent." "Before the apocalypse, I really didn't have many opportunities to use these good things. Joanna usually treated your dad; she was your dad's family doctor." "But now, haha, if Joanna knew that I had thoroughly played with her equipment, who knows how upset she would be." "That woman has a temper that's explosive; I bet she could curse my ancestors into my stomach. But her equipment is mine now~" With that, old Bert patted Richard's wound one last time.

He had almost finished his examination. Richard's wound showed signs of bruising and swelling, and also some signs of decay.

However, Kobayashi Shinya's quick suturing technique was quite good; it was much better than leaving the wound open and exposed to the air. Now, however, old Bert had to open Kobayashi's sutured wound to thoroughly clean Richard's area, and then suture it again. This time, the suturing had to be even more thorough, requiring precise alignment with Richard's dermis.

So, although he didn't mind inflicting more pain on Richard so that the astronaut could have a good mental boost.

But he eventually started adjusting the anesthetic, because Richard couldn't stand the pain.

Even if Richard could grumble and endure the pain of the cleaning, the excessive pain caused muscle tension and spasms, which would be very detrimental to the subsequent suturing work. So, about five minutes later...

Richard finally stopped wailing, and lay on the bed as if he had lost 1.4 or something, or as if he had come back to life.

The anesthetic had been injected, but it wasn't general anesthesia; Richard could still feel old Bert digging at his back.

As old Bert used a spoon-like tool to dig out the abscess inside Richard's wound, he pointed to the wound and spoke to Gavin.

"Gavin, you keep an eye on things too. If you ever encounter a penetrating wound like this in the future, you have to be ruthless with yourself." "For penetrating wounds that don't damage internal organs, if you can thoroughly soak the wound with an anti-inflammatory spray, like letting water flow through the wound and spray out, the process will be extremely painful, but the result will be very gratifying."

"When dealing with external injuries, you have to be a little ruthless for them to heal better."

"You're always out there on field assignments, and I can't help but worry about you. I also want to teach you as much medical knowledge as I can." "If you ever have an accident, I hope what I've taught you can help you save yourself. My child, you're such a worry!" By this time, Old Bert had finished cleaning the wound.

So he continued to treat the wound slowly and carefully, while looking at Gavin's thoughtful expression as he spoke.

"The camp is quite large now, Gavin. As the camp leader, I think... you shouldn't be running around anymore, because more people would prefer to see you safe and secure in the camp, ideally all the time."

"We don't lack operatives either. Eugene, Martin, Edward, and others are all excellent guys. Even without you watching them, they might make a few minor mistakes due to carelessness, but it won't be a big problem."

"They're just like you, Gavin. By now, they've gradually adapted to the apocalypse. They know how to survive longer." "Take my advice, Gavin, you can take fewer risks."

As he finished speaking, old Bert stitched up while rubbing Richard's shoulder with the needle.

"What do you think, astronaut? Old man, is there anything I'm saying that makes any sense?"

"Of course, my God, my tongue is a little numb, and the anesthesia near my collarbone has affected half of my face as well."

Richard immediately slurred and said to Gavin.

"But Mr. Gavin, Mr. Albert is right. I can see that you are the backbone of everyone. Someone like you shouldn't be detached from the camp like you have been these past few days while waiting for our return." As he said this, Richard suddenly reached out and gently grabbed Gavin's sleeve.

The text message was used to help deliver various tools, and it was very close to the operating table.

Seeing Richard grab his sleeve, Gavin looked down at Richard and smiled.

"It seems you already have your own opinion on the situation at the camp, Richard."

"Yes, although I don't know most of them, I can see the way they look at you, Gavin."

Richard responded immediately.

"And you should know, Gavin, that as a leader, detaching yourself from the group is bound to be risky." "Your men need you, and at least until now, you're the only one who can lead everyone in this team forward, aren't you?" "I don't want the camp that welcomed me to fall apart so soon after we've returned to the ground because the leader is seriously injured or dead."

As soon as he finished speaking, Richard released his grip and continued to experience old Bert's medical skills.

Gavin took a deep breath, turned to look at Eugene beside him, and teased him with a smile.

"Actually, I should really stay home more. Compared to the fieldwork that involves being scattered across various locations every day, the planting and construction work inside the camp takes up a larger portion of the work, and the content is more focused." "But look at that red-haired bastard, I still can't forget all the mess he caused."

"He almost got bitten to death by an ambush because of a pee, or nearly forgot to stand guard because he was drunk—this bastard is capable of any stupid thing." "So how can I be at ease?"

At this point, Gavin gave Eugene a playful kick to the butt.

Upon hearing this, Eugene laughed and leaned closer to Gavin, reaching out to rub Gavin's hat.

"Stop messing around, boss. You know that even if I drink a little every now and then, I'm always on my guard."

"I know when I can drink and when I can't, because I'm a soldier, and I'll never let myself go to the battlefield drunk." "Martin, Edward, and I are on the field, we'll be fine. You can stay home and take care of our future families." "After all, boss, as long as we field agents survive, we'll eventually start families. At that time, we'd prefer someone to take good care of our families, wouldn't we? What could be more reassuring than you personally overseeing the home, taking care of and protecting our families?"

At this point, Eugene patted Gavin on the back in a friendly manner, and Gavin nodded slightly.

"I understand. Now that the astronauts have returned, I will gradually reduce the number of times I participate in field operations in the future."

"Especially lately, the astronauts... still need to be observed, and I need to have a good talk with them, about things related to our future." "Whether it's completely resolving the Chandson Power Plant issue, or building an industrial chain for our camp from scratch, these things require a lot of brainpower, don't they?" With that, Gavin handed another stitch to old Bert, who painstakingly threaded the needle and continued with the final touches. Soon after, Richard's injuries were finally treated.

Old Bert looked at his masterpiece with satisfaction, chuckled, patted Richard on the back, then pulled a silver flask from his waist and shoved it into Richard's hand, saying, "Come on, astronaut, finish the final anesthesia, and your surgery will be completely over."

"I guarantee you'll be running around like a little pony in no time, and I'll even include a zombie fungus resistance program to minimize your chances of getting infected by those stupid zombie fungus and turning you into a damn undead!"

"Oh?"

Upon hearing this, Richard, both weak and curious, took the silver wine jug and asked in bewilderment.

"Have you already developed a simple targeted drug for the zombie fungus using rudimentary methods?"

"No, no, no medicine, only traditional remedies. Let's finish this glass of whiskey, haha!"

Before Richard could finish speaking, old Bert snatched back the flask and poured the whiskey down Richard's throat.

"Ugh?! Holy crap! Wait, I can't drink alcohol, drinking will hurt my injuries... Ugh! Cough cough cough! Wait, this is too much, this pot of wine is at least 600 grams, too much, way too much!!!" Unfortunately, no matter how much Richard refused, he still got a full stomach of wine, which made him roll his eyes back.

Watching Old Bert's utterly barbaric actions, Gavin finally couldn't help but worry and asked Old Bert a question.

"Wait, old Bert, will it be bad for him to drink so much?"

"What could possibly happen? That's how we Texas cowboys do it. Even if someone gets liver cancer from drinking and throws up every time they drink, they'll still pump the alcohol down their rectum so their intestines can absorb the alcohol instead of their mouths," old Bert explained nonchalantly.

"Besides, didn't we already figure it out? Those of us who were lucky enough not to turn into zombies either had high fevers during those days, or we were completely drunk that night, or totally intoxicated." "Although I can't give a professional conclusion like a scientist, I think that perhaps the physical environment of a fever is not conducive to the survival and reproduction of zombie fungi, and the effect of alcohol on the nerves would prevent zombie fungi from perfectly taking over our neurons."

"In short, compared to turning into a zombie, letting this injured astronaut drink some strong liquor, although it does have side effects, is still better than turning into a zombie!" After saying that, Old Bert simply found another bottle of whiskey and got Richard drunk.

And so, Richard, still tipsy and occasionally nauseous, was finally carried out of the operating room by Eugene and Old Feng and taken to the ward area of ​​Gavin Manor. After leaving a girl from the Cedar Park campsite to look after Richard, Gavin, Eugene, and the others went to the dining room on the second floor of the manor. When they arrived, Big Ivan and Charlie were sitting at the main table, surrounded by a large group of men, bragging to themselves.

They were already drunk, and when they were surrounded by people, they couldn't stop talking.

Without anyone even asking, the two of them raved about everything they could, making Musk sound like their lackey. However, it's true that Musk's Dragon spacecraft, launched in 2012, did dock with the International Space Station for the first time—a feat achieved by a private space company. So, at that time, Musk was indeed NASA's lackey; he had just signed a $1.6 billion contract with NASA for the Dragon spacecraft, and Richard and the other astronauts on the International Space Station really knew Musk.

Seeing the lively group of guys, Jiawen decided to quietly blend in.

But as soon as he approached the crowd, the men quickly made way for Gavin.

In the center of the crowd, looking at the passageway where the crowd had dispersed and Gavin at the end of the passage, the drunken Ivan's eyes immediately lit up.

"Haha, Gavin, you're finally back! I was just talking about you with your guys!"

"God, God knows how much you've helped us! Without the ground data you provided, none of our astronauts' calculations could have been completed, and even if we had, we wouldn't know where we'd land!"

"What's more, you actually managed to find us, in this fucking apocalyptic wasteland!"

"Our space station is so small, how did you manage to get right up to us!"

"You are simply our angels! I, Ivan, will repay you by serving you like a slave, Hurrah!!!"

"Haha, Gavin, I, Charlie, am the same. We've decided to work for you guys. Our payment is just this good wine we're drinking today!" Charlie chimed in, picking up where Big Ivan left off and yelling at Gavin.

"New Orleans is dead, Houston is dead, Dallas is dead, all dead, but we're still alive!" At this point, Charlie, drunk, stumbled to the table, scrambled onto it, and kicked the candles and plates off the table. Then, in a drunken frenzy, he raised his hands and shouted at every waiter who was watching his drunken antics.

"Look at me, damn it, you're all looking at me!"

"Look closely, we just did a fucking miracle, we're back from the space station!"

"If even miracles like this can happen, what can't we do? We are capable of anything!"

"I've witnessed the rebuilding of the human world, the continuous resurgence of our civilization, my sons and grandsons watching new television programs, and I even see our future generations keeping zombies in new zoos to their hearts' content!"

"I even see animal rights activists, or rather, zombie survivor protectors, hundreds of years from now. Those damn bastards will be like those guys protecting dolphins, spouting righteous rhetoric about protecting the last remaining zombies on Earth!"

"That's right, one last thing. I believe we will destroy them, I believe we will defeat them, I believe we will take back everything we've lost. I firmly believe this, just as I once firmly believed we could return to Earth from space!"

"We have done what we firmly believed in, and the future is destined to be just like the present. We are destined to succeed, and humanity will ultimately triumph!!!" "Victory!"

"Haha!"

"Fuck the zombies!"

Long live humanity!

"Long live!"

"For our camp!"

"For Gavin, our leader!"

"For Gavin!"

"For the Alliance!"

"For the tribe!"

"For the Emperor!!!"

Charlie's drunken, rambling speech instantly stirred up the entire restaurant, with everyone cheering excitedly. Beside Gavin, listening to Charlie's frenzied rant, Eugene excitedly grabbed Gavin's arm and yelled at Old Feng.

"Feng, quick, let's lift the boss up!"

"Holy crap? Well done! Here I come!"

After a brief moment of stunned silence, Old Feng immediately rushed forward excitedly and eagerly raised Gavin's right hand.

For a moment, Gavin was indeed lifted high above the staff's heads and began to spin around the restaurant surrounded by the crowd!

Gavin laughed heartily, feeling the jolting beneath him; his laughter was hearty and joyful.

But his gaze as he looked at the ceiling remained clear and cautious.

He knew that the safe return of the astronauts would bring unparalleled positive feedback, countless hopes and light, to the camp members who had witnessed the miracle. But even so, or rather, the more so, the more the camp had to avoid going down the wrong path!

He suddenly turned his head and searched for Father Hogan in the crowd.

Soon, his gaze fell upon Father Hogan, who was clutching his crucifix and silently murmuring something in the crowd. Gavin could sense the growing religious atmosphere in the camp, and the series of miracles were sure to fuel an increasingly strong faith. But what puzzled Gavin was that at this crucial moment, when everyone was most susceptible to the power of faith, Father Hogan wasn't seizing the opportunity to preach; instead, he was praying alone.

Not far away, Arturo and Abel were excitedly grabbing one person after another, shouting something that seemed to be related to Odin. Beside Arturo and Abel, the much-lost, obese Sariel was surprisingly the one listening most attentively.