The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

Page 276

Sanfulan slowly rose from the soft, warm bed, glancing at her brass pocket watch. It was late at night; she had slept through the entire day.

After quickly washing up and changing into his usual white coat, the doctor slowly walked out of the bedroom.

Heda and Vivian were sitting quietly on the sofa in the main hall, seemingly having been waiting for Fran to wake up for some time. Upon seeing her, Vivian began to recount the information she had previously obtained from Cluster Feather.

"Dr. Fran, according to the Secretary of State, the Star Abyss Society has launched a full-scale attack on the Six-Eyed Raven Cult... Should we do something?"

"Oh? They acted faster than expected, they were really impatient. Or rather, they caught us off guard."

Fran raised an eyebrow upon hearing this, but did not show much surprise.

Although the Listeners once annihilated the remnants of the Heir through stagnation and betrayal, this grand "success" also fueled their arrogance over the millennia, eroding their patience to almost nothing.

Of course, the main reason was that the Star Abyss Society had lost the arcane aid provided by Karmion, as well as the only remaining members of the Heil noble family. This also meant that they no longer had the resources or confidence to wait.

Now that the surface calm has been broken, the fierce undercurrents beneath the surface are about to be revealed.

The Abyss Kingdom, already ravaged by chaos, will inevitably descend into turmoil once again. Fran's role is simply to act as a sufficiently weighted bar to tip the scales of victory in one direction.

However, this unrest directly targets the Six-Eyed Raven's raiders, and Detrika is inevitably affected as well. That little guy, aside from being clever, has little ability to protect himself and could very well die inexplicably in some corner.

However, Luyala did not receive her request for help, so there is no need to worry about it for now.

Just as Fran was thinking about this problem, the monthly house call notice for July rang in his ears, and the person was none other than his informant.

[Dear Dr. Fran, the monthly outpatient call for July has been triggered. The target is 'Detrika,' a raider from the 'Six-Eyed Raven Order.' Please begin treatment as soon as possible; the target is expected to die within 10 minutes.]

"What bad luck! It seems Miss De Cui 9 is having some bad luck."

Fran raised his hand, covered in stitches, and gently touched his cheek, letting out a sigh.

The description "the target will die within ten minutes" means that the patient has suffered a fatal injury and will soon lose their life without emergency treatment, just like Sister Heda in the past.

"After all, she was an informant I personally recruited. Even on humanitarian grounds, her safety should be adequately guaranteed. I hope it's not something like being beheaded or having her limbs severed, otherwise she'll need additional psychological treatment after being rescued."

As she spoke, she pushed open the clinic door and began her night shift.

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soup!

Chapter 177 The Sprout of Brains

First refuge: the dark alley.

Although the exact location of the Six-Eyed Raven Order's First Habitat varies slightly each time, it is mostly located in the suburbs of Mordway, surrounded by a maze of alleyways and numerous abandoned residential areas.

This also allows plunderers to conduct illegal transactions of controlled goods in a more covert manner, reducing the risk of being discovered. It also increases their space for hiding and concealment, so they are not helpless when faced with law enforcement searches and raids.

At that moment, Detricka, with a bullet hole in her chest and an abdomen, was crawling on the ground, slowly and laboriously moving forward.

While she still had some strength, she tore off a corner of her robe and used it to bandage her wound. Although it couldn't completely stop the bleeding, at least it prevented a large, conspicuous bloodstain from being left on the ground.

What bad luck...

In the corridors of the abandoned building, weeds and moss are everywhere, clearly indicating that no one has taken care of it for a long time.

Derek's arms were already worn raw by the sharp concrete pebbles and building debris on the ground, but with the innate strong will to survive of the people of Gowermouth, she never stopped climbing forward.

As she slowly ascended the stairs of the inner corridor, the purse she had hidden in her chest rolled to the ground, scattering crescent-shaped coins carved from white crystal. The sound was crisp and scattered.

Detrick can now only breathe in small, shallow breaths because the gunshot wound has penetrated deep into her lungs. With each inhale, she feels blood rushing to her throat and a terrifying, escaping sensation deep within her trachea.

His limbs were cold and weak, and his once fiercely pounding heartbeat gradually softened. All of this meant that "death was imminent."

Sure enough, someone like me can never really be lucky.

The money and materials that Ms. Vivian gave her as payment could almost guarantee her entire later life... but it also seemed to be just a cruel joke of fate, her last solace before the end of her life.

I was born like a maggot in the filthiest part of Foyport, and now I will writhe and struggle like a maggot before dying. My hopes and dreams for the future have gradually faded, leaving only darkness.

I fled frantically from the place that had imprisoned my mother for her entire life. To avoid ending up like her, I begged for work at the docks of Foy Harbour. From the age of twelve, I worked as a dockworker, and the whip marks left on my back by the overseers are countless...

Does all of this mean nothing? Is it just the pathetic and laughable struggle of a delusional fool?

Detrika had tried more than once to stop the racing thoughts in her mind, or to do something else to cheer herself up. But she could no longer move any part of her body.

Blood gushed out, soaking the clothes used for bandaging, forming a pool of blood on the ground.

Suddenly, she saw a deer-like shadow, as clear as glass, flash by before her. It had long, branching antlers on its head, as magnificent and beautiful as a crystal crown.

The only way to establish contact with Zhong Luya is through "entering a dream".

Clearly, Detricka, who was previously trapped, didn't have the chance to simply lay down a blanket and start sleeping. If she were a White Cup Exorcist, she could try to sink part of her consciousness into a dream while fully conscious.

Is that Death? I never imagined the goddess of death could be so beautiful…

In a daze, Detrika uttered a sigh.

She reached out her hand to Luya, as if resigned to her fate and wanting to leave with her. But the next moment she pulled her hand back, and in her dying moments, the plunderer realized the burning resentment within her.

Why can those fat, gruff, and monstrous men live while I have to die? Why can those arrogant and domineering Listeners launch covert wars and massacres without any scruples?

Sensing that Derica still had a will to live, Luara slowly stepped forward, extended her slender deer hoof, and stomped heavily on her forehead.

"cough!"

For a fleeting moment, Detricka felt as if her entire head would be crushed by that blow. But in the end, she simply opened her eyes and awoke from her dream.

Was I just dreaming? Could that deer really be Death... or was it just a figment of my imagination before I died?

As consciousness returned to reality, the physical pain surged up more and more realistically.

If it weren't for the raven's eye stone provided by Ms. Vivian, which allowed Detricka to reach the threshold of the third step, her body probably wouldn't have been able to hold on until now.

My strength and mental state seem to have recovered somewhat, but I still can't stand up. I'll find an abandoned storage room to hide in first. I'll try to contact Ms. Vivian.

Although, as an informant, Detricka felt she had no right to ask anything more of her generous and kind client… she was willing to give everything she had if he was willing to help her. After all, nothing was more important than survival.

Just as the plunderer was climbing toward the storeroom, the sound of leather boots that sent chills down her spine suddenly rang out from below the stairwell steps.

At the same time, the sound of several people talking could be heard.

"Crescent Moon Coins? A petty thief actually has such high-end items on him, and judging by the quantity, there are at least ten or so."

"How could such an inconspicuous creature be a big fish? The Six-Eyed Ravens are indeed masters of concealment."

Without a doubt, those were the people who came to pursue Detricka.

Because of her low priority, she didn't require the intervention of members of the Society of Listeners of the Tide, so only a group of armed Starseekers arrived at the abandoned building. However, they were still a complete tactical formation, and at least one disciple capable of using arcane arts served as their commander.

At such close range, there probably isn't enough time to hide and call for help. What should we do, Detricka? Think of something, think of something…

Although she was determined to fight to the end, she couldn't come up with any practical and effective solutions. The disparity in strength between the two sides was too great; like mortals facing a natural disaster, after doing everything within their power, all that was left was to wait and pray.

Just then, a sudden change occurred.

"Damn it, what is that? Who are you? Stop! Don't come any closer!"

"Is it an evil offspring or a demonic creature from the Abyss? No, that thing is human! Prepare to engage! Prepare to engage!"

The Star Crier's roar, filled with shock, anger, and confusion, rang out along with the whistling of a gun, followed by a tearing sound that made one's teeth ache. It was like a blade ripping flesh, or a steel hammer crushing bones.

Just a few breaths later, all fell silent.

"solved."

"The Viper Who Drinks Candles" licked the blood from between its claws, then looked at Fran beside it, awaiting the doctor's next instructions.

"Okay. You are free to move around now. If you need anything else, I will contact you again. But it's best not to do anything too outrageous, otherwise, I don't mind collecting my medical fees from you in another way."

“My head nurse is a funeral maid; you should know how the Hunters treat esoteric disciples who cross the line. Cherish your lives, you few remaining Antscale Saints.”

Fran waved Ornie away, who then nodded humbly in response, showing no sign of disobedience.

"Yes."

Ernie then put on a robe to conceal his enormous size and left the abandoned suburban building.

Currently, there is a clandestine war between two cults. Given the unclear situation, it is inconvenient for Haida, as a Hunter of Secrets, to reveal her identity and intervene. Although simply eliminating all witnesses would suffice… it would be more prudent to wait for instructions from the General Affairs Council before taking any action.

Therefore, there are not many available workers at the Fog Street Clinic.

Vivian is not being considered for the time being, Sigrid can keep the sword in its form and carry it with her, while Shitia needs to appear on more crucial occasions.

After much thought, Erne of the Ant Scale Gate seems quite suitable for resolving some trivial matters.

He has no direct connection to the Fog Street Clinic, his physical strength is enough to overpower Sister Heda head-on, and he can be easily ordered around... making him a high-quality temporary laborer. It would be a waste not to make the most of him.

"Don't move yourself anymore, dear Miss Detrica, it will tear the wound open."

"Relax."

Fran stepped over the first floor of the abandoned building, which was littered with blood and limbs, and walked up the stairs. He made sure to collect all the crescent coins and Detricka's wallet scattered along the way.

A moment later, she came to Detrika, who was lying on the ground.

"Two gunshot wounds, affecting the lungs and abdomen. Not particularly serious... but the wounds seem a bit unusual. Probably caused by diluted Heyer toxin."

After a brief examination, Fran pursed his lips slightly and drew a preliminary diagnosis.

She extended her middle finger and gently placed it on her index finger. As a soft tap sounded, the clear, luminous light of [Dispelling Dust and Impurities] enveloped her and Detrickka.

“Ahem, Ms. Vivian, I am Yu Han, :朳簯～”． 〈戮±'3:泀◎”≯⌒贰……cough…”

Upon seeing the person so close, Detricka choked up for a moment. She wanted to say something, but her thoughts were in turmoil, and the urge to cry was strong and unbearable.

"Let's talk after I've finished the initial treatment."

As he spoke, the long hem of Dr. Fran's coat flared slightly at the back, from which the Sphinx with its inlaid spine unfolded its massive steel-cast body. It extended its sharp, cone-shaped tail, steadily and powerfully coiling around Detricka's waist to lift her up, then placed her on a wooden square table in the abandoned building's room.

Oh, I have to mention that although I didn't think there was anything wrong with it before... it still felt a little strange for Fran to be called by someone else's name by a patient while treating him. He'll have to think more carefully about the situation when using the name Vivian in the future.

Following his usual medical practice, Fran first put a green capsule into Detrick's mouth to stabilize her condition, and then began to treat her external injuries.

With her spirit-bone scalpel, she cut open Detricka's clothes, which were soaked with blood and dust, exposing the bullet holes left by the gun. She then removed the abnormally proliferating polyps and created her spiritual tentacles to extract the bullets from the wounds with the [Crown Thief].

"Poisoned bullets? A pointless tactic."

Before the surgery officially began, Fran had Luara pull Detricka back into her dream state. This also spared her the experience of being disassembled and sewn back on, a process that most people couldn't bear.

The reason Grantham hadn't been anesthetized earlier was primarily because his consciousness also needed to participate in maintaining order during the three Type I rituals. Fortunately, the old headmaster, as a high-ranking priest with countless years of experience, was able to control and suppress most of his instinctive reactions.

Although the shrapnel has been removed, Detricka is still not out of danger and requires further treatment.

The polyps that had been removed from her wound were now spreading and growing again, like some kind of parasitic fly larva. This almost independent state of activation piqued Fran's interest.

"The toxin extracted from the biomass of the Haier people has these four effects... It's probably related to the spirit of the cup and saucer. Speaking of which, I seem to have raised a little creature before, so I can try its medical effects."

After a few breaths of thought, Fran took out a cylindrical culture jar from her medicine box, and then took out a clump of Cistanche deserticola from it. It was a trophy she had casually picked up during a house call in Norrington, and she never expected it would come in handy.

"grumble!"

The Cistanche deserticola, resembling a mass of fleshy buds, emitted a sharp, piercing screech, seemingly eager to escape from the doctor's grasp. The doctor, however, maintained his usual warm smile, then lightly tapped his index finger, pressing a small spark of madness onto the creature.

"Chi! Chi!"

The buds and tendrils of the Cistanche deserticola trembled wildly, and its cries became hysterical and painful.

"Behave yourself, and please don't make me say it a second time."

After bringing the Cistanche deserticola back into a controllable state, Fran pressed it onto the wounds on Detricka's lower abdomen and chest. The tender pink buds seemed to sense a spirituality similar to their own and began to rapidly devour the infected blood and flesh.

Although its greatest desire was clearly to burrow into the wound of the person before it, climb up the spine and into the skull, devour the brain and take its place... it was currently being held in the doctor's palm and could not escape even a fraction of an inch.

It knew very well that any movement would result in its being burned to ashes, so it had no choice but to work even harder to feed on the scraps left on its wounds.

While unconscious, Detricka vaguely felt something warm and soft coiling around her lower abdomen, then moving to her chest, resembling a snake. Wherever it passed, it brought a deep, bone-chilling itch and pain.

She instinctively wanted to curl up, but Luyara restrained her and she couldn't. In the end, it all turned into a few barely audible murmurs in her sleep.

Soon, the Cistanche deserticola completed its deep cleaning with its fine, sharp teeth, and Fran put it back into the containment container and returned it to the medicine box. He then began suturing Detrick's wound.

[Detrika the Marauder's 'Flesh Contamination' has healed. July's monthly house call is complete, Completion: A. One of your monthly house calls will be randomly triggered next month.]

[This consultation fee: 1 piece of unknown biological material. (Unidentified)]

"call."

With Fran putting down the round needle he was using to stitch the wound, the house call was officially over. However, some follow-up issues needed to be addressed.

To quickly expose the wound and prevent infection from adhesions, Detrick had cut her clothes in half... they were no longer wearable. She'd have to go back to Fog Street to find her something suitable. Lu

To be fair, Detricka also belongs to the type where obvious signs of training are visible.

Although her muscle definition and density differed greatly from Sister Heda's, her physique was still remarkably graceful. Combined with the wheat-colored skin common in the Land of the Abyss, she certainly gave an involuntary first impression of being "healthy."