Chapter 3397: Miraculous Doctor (Part Four)

The flames on the brass candlestick flickered incessantly, adding a peculiar eeriness to the already dim room. Two slender black figures stood before the surgery table as if engaged in some arcane ritual. If one got close enough, they could hear a murmured low whispering.

"I say, old chap, we really can't keep going on like this," one voice said. "You have to let me see what it's like to successfully heal a patient, right?"

"Do you think that depends solely on me?" another voice replied. "This is a two-player game; the other person can't just stand there making snide remarks, can they?"

"When have I ever just stood there making snide remarks?"

"The problem is you'd be better off doing just that!"

"I think our current priority should be to at least heal one patient to prove that this is an operating room, not a mortuary."

"The current priority is to prove that this is an operating room, not a canteen!"

"But didn't you eat, too?"

"I performed surgeries until 2 a.m., and all I had for dinner was a tuna sandwich."

Shiller, with one hand on his hip and the other pressing on the beak of his mask, said, "Alright, now is too early to argue. This game can't possibly just have us repeat the process of treating patients; there must be other gameplay elements, so we need to get through the first level quickly."

Strange also sighed and said, "Let's make a pact; when the next patient arrives, we must do our utmost to ensure we heal them without any issues, agreed?"

Shiller nodded in agreement.

Pulling the lever again, this time two copper coins fell out. Shiller pocketed the coins, but the next thing that fell out wasn't a patient—it was a crumpled piece of ragged cloth.

Shiller picked up the cloth and noticed it was smeared with black coal ash, as well as some red bloodstains. However, the dryness of the blood indicated it was unlikely to be human—more likely that of a bird.

"Hello, I am Mr. Raven. May I ask if you would like to subscribe to a newspaper? One copper coin a copy, you can subscribe to both the morning and evening editions, it is the unrivaled choice for understanding the world."

Strange, who also saw the line of text, said, "As expected, this world isn't that simple. Are they finally going to start revealing the backstory?"

"We only have four coins now," Shiller said. "But we could try subscribing to the newspaper to see what information it contains."

"How are we going to pay?"

After giving it some thought, Shiller pulled a copper coin from his pocket, placed it into the chute, and then shut the gate. He heard a very faint sound of the copper coin sliding down, followed by two calls of a raven.

Shiller knocked on the metal conduit door, saying, "One morning paper, please; thank you."

Shiller thought that the newspaper would be delivered through the metal conduit, but unexpectedly, a small window high up on the room's wall opened, and a large black raven flew to the window, dropping in a rolled-up newspaper.

Shiller looked up at the window. The window was too high, even stretching his arms couldn't reach it. And outside was pitch black, nothing visible. The window was too small, definitely not large enough for an adult to pass through. Escaping through the window seemed impossible.

Shiller walked forward to pick up the newspaper. It was written in Latin, which made it a bit difficult to read. He handed the newspaper to Strange and said, "You read it first; I'll go see if the nurse has arrived."

Strange sat down in a chair by the fireplace and began reading the newspaper. Shiller went to the door.

The door could be opened, and the corridor was accessible, but Shiller found that as soon as he left within a meter of the door, he would be engulfed in utter darkness. Even holding a candle didn't help; the area ahead definitely did not allow for exploration.

Strangely though, the body of the man previously slumped against the wall was gone. Shiller couldn't tell if the nurses had taken it away or it had simply vanished.

Shiller felt slightly regretful, "If there were a reward for treating illnesses here, then that man might have had money on him. I should have searched the body earlier."

Back in the operating room, Strange had already finished reading the newspaper with an astonishing speed. He gave a brief summary, then said, "It should be a Victorian era mixed with a Steampunk magical world view. The place we are in is called Magic Core Town, located in the south of some country. A massive plague has broken out here, and the entire region has been quarantined."

"It isn't a Black Death setting, is it?" Shiller inhaled softly, "Now it's really become traditional Western medicine."

"I'm afraid so," Strange said. "And it might be a combination of several plagues that have broken out in Europe; otherwise, there wouldn't be so many patients in one day."

"No wonder so many patients have died, and no one has come looking for us two," Shiller said. "With the level of medicine during the Black Death era, it would be strange if they didn't die."

"Although it's an ancient setting, we are modern doctors," Strange emphasized. "We can't stoop to the level of those incompetent physicians."

Shiller waved his hand to show he understood. He filled a bucket with water from the sink and began to clean the distiller, then said, "The opportunity to understand the world situation is definitely not just for entertainment. Perhaps we can influence the global situation by choosing whom to heal."

"That would be difficult as the world situation is already a mess," Strange said while cleaning his surgical knife. "Who do you think this Mr. Raven, who offers us newspapers, is? The hospital owner?"

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"I'm afraid it's quite the opposite," Shiller said. "That cloth is stained with blood, which indicates he didn't come in a normal way. It also suggests that there's someone guarding the reception on the other end of the passage. Patients are only sent here with the approval of that side."

"Since we've opened a hospital, we need to actually cure a few people, otherwise it would seem like we're utterly incompetent," Strange said. "Even if the healing rate at other hospitals isn't high, we can't go too far."

"Just watch, I'm afraid it's not that simple."

After tidying up, Shiller pulled the lever again. This time, a dark-skinned woman dropped down. She was a fair bit taller than the human race, approximately over two meters. There wasn't much fabric on her, and it seemed a bit tattered.

Strange put on gloves and first flipped open the woman's eyelids, revealing a pair of blue eyes. The vitreous body was somewhat cloudy, indicating she hadn't rested well recently.

He then checked her limbs and didn't find signs of cavitation, any extra tentacles or flesh buds, nor any hardening.

The woman didn't show symptoms of coughing up blood or skin diseases either. The only issue was a large slash on her abdomen, which appeared to be caused by a sharp instrument. As soon as the torn cloth wrapped around it was removed, Strange couldn't help frowning.

Clearly, the wound hadn't just appeared; it was at least three or four days old, severely infected, swollen, and continuously oozing pus. The abdominal cavity was already accumulating fluid.

Since the patient wasn't part of the human race, Strange couldn't determine if her body temperature was normal, but by human standards, it was high, about close to 40 degrees Celsius. It could be a fever-induced coma due to the infection.

Strange gently pressed the wound, and the woman showed no reaction, except for an instinctive twitch of her abdominal muscles. But staring at the black powder sticking to the tips of his fingers, Strange's frown deepened.

Strange straightened up and gave Shiller a look.

Shiller stepped forward, patted the woman's face, and then said, "Are you conscious? Wake up..."

Shiller also looked up and shook his head at Strange. Strange sighed and said, "The wound is too severely infected. They might have used some local herbs, but aside from worsening the infection, they've done nothing."

"What do you suggest?"

"Start with debridement."

The word alone was enough for Shiller to know there was a job to do.

A simple debridement is not the same as debridement surgery. Debridement surgery is definitely one of the nightmares of surgery.

Debridement surgery is like those math problems with a huge amount of calculations. It's not entirely impossible, especially not for top-notch surgeons like Strange, where difficulty is child's play.

But this type of surgery has a large amount of work, in a complex environment. Dealing with complicated wounds could mean hours of cleaning. And incomplete debridement could lead to consequences more fatal than failing some high-risk surgeries.

It's still manageable for the leading surgeon, but for the assistant, this surgery is truly exhausting. Normally, an operating room at least has several assistants and nurses, but here it's just Shiller.

Moreover, Strange is the most, most, most difficult type of surgeon to work with. No one in his operating room could be idle, everyone would be spinning like a top, helping him with his work while enduring his scolding. When his temper went off, everyone from assistants to patients got an earful, even the surgical needles and threads weren't spared.

True enough, as soon as Strange entered work mode, he completely disregarded the game's setting. He took off his cumbersome bird-beak mask, picked up a monocle fitted into his eye socket from the tool rack, leaned over the edge of the operating table, closed one eye, and began to examine the wound closely.

"Prepare saline at 35°C," Strange said while observing, "1% polyvinylpyrrolidone-iodine and 3% hydrogen peroxide..."

"Please, where am I supposed to get you polyvinylpyrrolidone-iodine and hydrogen peroxide?" Shiller mixed saline at the operating table side while speaking, "But I remember the treatment manual says that for ulcerative skin wound infections, you can use one-third of an ounce of Black Thorn Gall Liquid diluted tenfold to rinse, combined with brown copper rust mushroom juice..."

"That's your problem," Strange said. "Didn't you want me to believe in your ability to mix medicines? If the rinse isn't thorough, that's on you."

Grinding his teeth, Shiller took a deep breath, rolled up his sleeves, and said, "Alright, I've got to show you just how good my medicine-mixing skills are!"

With that, he began rapidly mixing medicines, first placing the prepared saline on a copper plate heated over a charcoal pan to warm it. Then taking the jar soaked with Black Prickly Galls, he poured out the sea urchin-like but sticky soft-bodied creature, crushed it, and scraped the mucus into a copper test tube, measuring it with a Standard Ounce Cup.

Next, he put on gloves and took out dried mushrooms from a cabinet underneath, dropped them into a mortar for grinding, while taking the saline, now at an appropriate temperature, into a syringe.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps in the corridor, and without turning back yelled, "On rounds! Put on your mask!"

The head nurse's eyes appeared behind the observation window again. Shiller glanced at her but didn't stop his work, while operating he said, "Sorry, ma'am, got a tough case, I don't have time to chat now."

"What... does he... have?" The head nurse's hoarse voice asked.

"The Hippocratic Oath, ma'am, I cannot disclose."

"Humph," the head nurse snorted coldly twice and then disappeared.

Shiller wiped the sweat from his forehead, took all the items on a brass tray over to the operating table. Strange had already cleaned off the external dirt from the epidermis.

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