I Can Extract Game Items

Derrick weaved through the throngs of people inside. Nurses were overwhelmed as they fielded questions, with some nearly in tears. One doctor stormed down the hallway, shouting into a radio.

"We need backup here! I don't care what it takes, just get more security!"

Derrick gritted his teeth as he heard a woman's voice rise in desperation. "I'll pay any price, anything! Just tell me where he is!"

It was clear that everyone who had seen the viral video had flocked here for the same reason as Derrick. But they weren't his concern. 'Tara… she's my priority. I need to find this man so he can help my Tara...'

He pushed forward to the reception desk. The woman behind it was pale and visibly shaken with her hair disheveled. She was arguing with someone when Derrick interrupted.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Derrick said. His voice, though rough, had a calm steadiness to it. "I need to speak with someone in charge here. Please."

"Sir, if this is about—"

"It's not about the video," Derrick cut in firmly. "I just need information on my wife. Tara Derrickson. Please."

The receptionist, relieved that someone wasn't yelling at her about him, quickly typed the name into her system. "She's stable... You can see the doctor for more recent analysis."

Derrick let out a shaky breath and nodded. "Thank you." Before he could step away, he looked around the lobby one last time. People were seated along the floor, leaning against walls, or pacing anxiously. It wasn't just a hospital anymore—it looked like a war zone.

A hushed voice caught Derrick's ear as he turned to leave. Two nurses were talking near the hallway entrance.

"Do you think he'll come back?" one asked nervously. "That man with the helmet…"

"I don't know, but if he does, it's going to get worse. Did you see how everyone is losing their minds over him?"

Derrick's steps faltered. 'They don't know where he is either…' He clenched his fists. "But I'll find him," he muttered under his breath.

A doctor brushed past him, arguing with another colleague. "We can't keep hiding that business card forever. Someone's going to leak it."

"What business card?" Derrick murmured aloud to himself.

One of the nurses overheard and shot him a cautious glance. "Nothing, sir. It's nothing." She turned away too quickly.

'There's a business card... I have to get it...'

Derrick pretended to be heading back but he followed the nurse.

After reaching a particular area in the hospital, Derrick stood by the corner of the hallway as he strained to overhear a pair of nurses talking near the nurse's station.

"Dr. Lowell still hasn't decided what to do about that card," one nurse said quietly, glancing around as though she feared someone would overhear. "You know the one, from the guy in the helmet. AM Coven or whatever."

Derrick's ears perked up. 'AM Coven? That had to be it.'

He quietly slipped away and made his way to Dr. Lowell's office, waiting for the doctor to leave. Minutes later, the senior doctor left to attend a meeting, giving Derrick his chance.

He slipped into the office when no one was looking and closed the door behind him. The place reeked of antiseptic, and papers were stacked neatly on the large mahogany desk. Derrick's eyes darted around until they landed on a corner of the desk—a small white card lay there, partially hidden under a folder.

'AM Coven.'

"Gotcha," he whispered while grabbing the card.

Before he could turn back to leave, the door burst open.

"Hey! What are you doing here?!" a nurse's voice rang out, sharp and accusatory.

Derrick froze as his hand instinctively tightened around the card. He turned to face her with guilt and desperation plastered across his face.

The nurse's eyes widened in disbelief, and before he could explain himself, she bolted from the doorway, shouting, "Security! Get over here! He's stealing from the doctor's office!"

Chaos erupted as footsteps approached. In seconds, two security guards barreled into the room with stern faces.

"What the hell are you doing?" one guard barked, grabbing Derrick roughly by the arm.

"I—this is a mistake! I wasn't stealing anything! Please, you don't understand— my wife is sick, I need this card..." Derrick protested, trying to wrench free.

"Oh, we understand perfectly," the other guard cut in. "You're trespassing, and we'll have you and your wife out of here in no time if you don't start cooperating."

"No!" Derrick's voice cracked. "You can't kick us out—my wife… she's in critical condition! She needs this place!"

The nurse crossed her arms while responding with an icy tone. "Then hand over the card you stole."

Derrick's shoulders slumped in defeat. Reluctantly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the AM Coven card. "I was just trying to—"

"I don't want to hear it," the nurse snapped before snatching the card from his hand. "If you ever pull something like this again, we won't hesitate to throw you both out."

Derrick stood there, defeated, as the guards released him and escorted him out of the office. His chest ached with frustration and helplessness as he returned to his wife's ward. Sitting by her side, he took her cold hand in his trembling fingers, whispering, "I'll find a way, Tara… I swear I will."

---

Meanwhile at August's place...

August sat at his desk with his helmet resting nearby as the faint glow of his digital interface reflected in his green eyes. His phone buzzed in his hand, and he picked up, answering the unfamiliar number. A chilling voice came through.

"Finally," Fox's smooth, mocking voice echoed through the line. "I was starting to think we'd never get to talk, Aleman. All we've always wanted to do was talk.."

August's expression turned cold instantly. His voice dropped. "You're holding my esteemed customer against his will, jeopardizing his life. Which, by extension, jeopardizes my business. Is this how you try to hold conversations with people? By kidnapping innocents?"

Fox's tone remained nonchalant. "We needed a way to get your attention. It worked."

August leaned back as his fingers tapped his desk rhythmically. "So this is how you negotiate. Disgraceful. I hope you know the damage you're causing—Victor's father won't sit quietly for much longer."

"And yet, here you are," Fox countered smoothly. "Talking to us. Clearly, our methods are effective."

"You're mistaken if you think I'll meet you on your terms," August snapped. "Release Victor immediately."

Fox's laughter on the other end was soft and almost mocking. "You're in no position to make demands. If we wanted to end him, we already would have. But you're of potential value to us, Aleman. So this is simple: meet with us, or your customer won't get another sunrise."

There was a long pause. August's knuckles whitened as he gripped the phone.

"You must think you're holding all the cards," August said coldly. "But let me remind you of something— I have no affiliations to Victor so in this case you need me far more than I need you. I am no hero so I could simply decide to be unbothered about this. I have other customers after all. However, the longer you keep Victor, the worse my impression of you becomes. Will you lots keep making desperate moves just to get me? Pitiful."

Fox's tone lost some of its smoothness. "You'll regret saying that."

August let out a humorless chuckle. "Try me."
Your journey continues on empire

The line went silent for a moment before Fox replied with a sharp tone. "You have three days. If you don't meet us by then, Victor is dead. Choose wisely."

The call ended with a sharp click, and August set his phone down. He stared at his helmet for a long moment before whispering to himself, "Three days… Fine. Let's play."