The Supreme Soldier in the City
Chapter 238 - 240: Really Unintentional

Chapter 238: Chapter 240: Really Unintentional

Although in pain, the sudden intrusion by James Brown had the woman’s modesty making her forget her agony for a moment, as she yelled at him.

James Brown quickly retreated, pulling the sliding door shut and said, "How are you? You’ve bled so much."

Helen Wilson shouted, "Mind your own business, don’t you dare come in!"

"Alright, alright, I won’t come in. You really should be more careful when your Aunt Flo visits."

"I’m cut by glass, what Aunt Flo?" Helen Wilson immediately defended herself, as it would be utterly embarrassing if it really were that time of the month.

"Wow, can you manage on your own?"

"I... I can." Helen Wilson stubbornly insisted, but when she tried to attend to the wound, she found it really awkward, not to mention not knowing if there was any glass left inside, which made her agitated.

"How about I help you? If there’s any glass inside, it’ll be trouble. Plus, whether you treat it at home or go to the hospital, I’ve got to give you a hand either way."

"You... you... you better not take advantage of me."

"Okay, okay, I won’t take advantage."

"Then shut your eyes when you enter."

"Fine, I’ll shut my eyes." James Brown was somewhat speechless, thinking how troublesome Helen Wilson could be.

"Then... you can come in."

James really did come into the bathroom with his eyes closed, and Helen Wilson, seeing that he truly had his eyes shut, breathed a sigh of relief and said, "Then help me."

"Big sister, if I have my eyes closed, how can I help you?" James Brown replied, not in the best of moods.

"Ah... but you can’t look at my... butt, okay?"

"What’s the big deal if I did? It’s not like you’ve got much to show."

"You..." Helen Wilson was furious, yelling, "I can do it myself, no need for your help."

"Okay, okay, just joking with you. I saw everything when I came in earlier; another glance won’t matter. Just pretend I’m a doctor, okay? Have you ever seen someone shy around a doctor? How would you get treated then?"

Women can be bashful, but often all it takes is an excuse. Once she found an excuse, her shyness vanished. Hearing what James Brown said, Helen Wilson felt she’d found her excuse. Most importantly, she felt a burning pain on her butt, there must be glass inside, and it could be really bad if not treated properly.

"Alright, open your eyes then." This whisper was so faint it seemed even an ant wouldn’t hear, clearly showing the extent of her current embarrassment.

James Brown then opened his eyes and saw a shocking crimson beneath Helen Wilson’s buttocks; the sight dissolved his inclination for teasing, and he said with a serious face, "It looks like a severe injury; we need to treat it right now."

James Brown’s attitude made Helen Wilson’s embarrassment subside a bit, and she panicked and said, "Is it really that bad?"

"Enough, I’ll carry you to the sofa first and then we will treat the wound."

Without resisting, Helen Wilson let James Brown lift her in his arms and place her on the sofa to lie face down.

"Don’t move, the wound hasn’t been examined yet, what are you fidgeting for?" James Brown stopped Helen Wilson as she tried to pull up her trousers.

Helen Wilson instantly buried her head in the couch out of sheer embarrassment; her trousers were still around her knees, her entire rear exposed in front of James Brown—an utterly shameful pose for a woman.

Thankfully, Helen Wilson was still a police officer and knew the gravity of the situation, so she bit her lip, enduring the embarrassment, and said, "Do you know how to treat it? If not, it might be best to take me to the hospital."

"Treating it a bit should be no problem," James Brown quickly said. "Do you have disinfectants or something similar at home?"

Helen Wilson nodded, "Yes, in the drawer under the TV stand."

"All right, I’ll take care of it for you," James Brown said before turning around to look for things. In the meantime, Helen Wilson hurriedly pulled her pants up a bit—although her buttocks were still exposed, it made her feel at least a bit more comfortable. Otherwise, she felt utterly bare in front of James Brown without a shred of modesty to hide behind.

James Brown soon brought over a small medicine kit, fished out a pair of tweezers, tore off some medicinal cotton, dipped it in medicinal alcohol, and began wiping the bloodstains on Helen Wilson’s buttocks.

Very quickly, James Brown identified two wounds—one quite serious and deep, still bleeding unstoppably, and the other shallow, its bleeding having already stopped on its own.

James Brown ignored the minor wound, pressed down on Helen Wilson’s waist, and sat on her legs.

"What are you doing?" Helen Wilson cried out in panic.

James Brown said sternly, "Don’t move. It will hurt soon, and I’m afraid you’ll squirm. That would make it worse, so I had to pin down your legs."

"Then at least be gentle. You’re as heavy as an elephant, almost breaking my legs," Helen Wilson muttered and grabbed a cushion to bite down hard on.

James Brown silently admired Helen Wilson’s decision to brace herself without needing his reminder, and he proceeded to treat the more serious wound without hesitation.

That wound would scare most people, but to James Brown, it was just a surface injury. For someone like him, who often got injured on missions, such minor injuries were inevitable and would be disregarded during life-and-death situations. In his eyes, real injuries were those that affected mobility or life; only those counted as true harm.

Therefore, dealing with the injury was effortless for James Brown. In no time, he cleared out the glass shards from within the wound and sprinkled YN Region’s medicinal powder over it, quickly halting the bleeding.

Throughout the process, apart from a whimper at the beginning, Helen Wilson didn’t make another sound, which earned James Brown’s respect for her fortitude. After all, she was merely a policewoman, and furthermore, a woman. Such pain must have been considerable for her.

"You’re quite tough, not making a sound despite the pain," James Brown said, wiping the blood around the wound, joking with a smile.

However, Helen Wilson remained silent.

Curious, James Brown tilted his head to look at her, only to find himself at a loss for words—assuming Helen Wilson to be resilient, he now found she had actually fainted, either from fright or pain.

James Brown barely suppressed a laugh. Helen Wilson might seem brave usually, but in reality, she was still just a girl and not much more resilient than any other girl. It was merely her job that demanded her to appear strong.

One might think female police officers in novels are tough like female dinosaurs, but Helen Wilson clearly wasn’t a dinosaur, more like a little pony that occasionally got furious.

Not wanting to disturb her rest, James Brown continued tending to her wound. Yet, as he cleaned up all the bloodstains around her buttocks, he felt his heart rate quicken.

James Brown, however, had very strong self-control. He took a couple of deep breaths and shook his head. He went to Helen Wilson’s bedroom and fetched a towel blanket to cover her enticing buttocks, successfully restraining his urge to make a mistake.

It was then James Brown sprinkled some water on Helen Wilson’s face. The cold jolted her awake, and as she began to move, James Brown quickly pinned her shoulders down, warning, "You’d better stay still now. The wound’s not big, but since it’s on your buttocks, any erratic movement could cause it to split open and hinder recovery."

Helen Wilson blinked a couple of times. Her cheeks flushed, she didn’t know if it was because she found fainting embarrassing or because her bare buttocks had been exposed to James Brown, and spoke with an air of guilt, "Is it all taken care of?"

"It’s done. Your only job now is to rest and recuperate."

"Rest? How long?" Helen Wilson’s eyes widened.

"At least two or three days before you’ll recover enough to walk."

"Oh my, two or three days? That will delay my plans."

"Then delay it. Do you think you can go out like this? If you do, I assure you, you’ll walk like a cripple."

Helen Wilson opened her mouth, then pounded her fist on the sofa, bitterly saying, "Such bad luck, getting injured at home at a time like this."

"Heh, it’s a good opportunity to rest; it’s not a big deal."

"Alright, alright, there’s no choice but to rest." Helen Wilson didn’t persist. After all, a blunt axe would only hamper wood-chopping, and in her current state, it wasn’t suitable for her to work, let alone investigate the smuggling case.

"But..." Helen Wilson tilted her head towards James Brown, her cheeks reddened, and she said, "I need to trouble you to look after me for the next few days."