The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

Page 95

“No need for anesthesia, Miss Viola. I must ensure I don’t lose consciousness. Proceed directly with the debridement.”

"But...that would be extremely painful."

Viola could almost feel the pain just by witnessing such a wound.

In the high-stress situation of life-or-death combat, the surge of adrenaline can almost completely block out pain. But after hormone levels drop... the pain from the injury will linger like a persistent, unforgettable wound.

"Are you sure you don't need anesthesia?" Viola asked again with concern, looking at the nun's calm face.

"I have my reasons."

The anesthetic drugs would cause a prolonged period of mental lethargy, an effect that could even affect psychic abilities. Heda didn't know how long she would remain here, nor whether any undiscovered dangers lurked within.

Just to be on the safe side, it's best not to accept treatment too readily. This isn't the real Norling Hospital.

Seeing that she couldn't go against Heida's wishes, Viola had no choice but to respect her opinion.

"If you feel unbearable pain later, don't force yourself. I can prepare anesthesia at any time."

Haida didn't say anything, but simply nodded to indicate that the other party could begin.

Disinfecting the wound, removing the polyp, and picking out the fragments... Viola began to perform deep debridement on Haida's shoulder blade wound.

This series of actions was far beyond what an ordinary person could endure, but the nun's gaze remained calm, and she did not cry out in pain.

Her endurance even made Viola, a seasoned surgeon, feel her fingers go weak.

Just as the doctor was concentrating on treating the wound, Haida spoke up.

Is the war between Attilion and Loretown still ongoing this year?

Viola's hand movements suddenly stopped.

How could Sister Heda have the energy to chat with herself while undergoing wound cleaning without anesthesia? Didn't she feel any pain? No, she would have a slight reaction every time she made a cut; it couldn't be a rare condition like analgesia.

After that, she began to instinctively think about Haida's problem.

Hmm... Atilian's last war with Loreton was a hundred years ago, wasn't it? Why would she ask that?

"The Loreton-Latti Non-Aggression Pact between Attilion and Loreton has been in effect for nearly eighty years, and there has been no war until recently..."

"Or perhaps, Sister, you've just returned from a foreign land and are aware of the latest developments on the front lines?"

Even while answering Heida's question, Viola's hand movements remained precise and rapid.

"Sorry, I was talking nonsense. It was just to distract myself... Miss Viola, please don't mind."

Haida decisively and quickly ended the conversation, nipping any further inquiry in the bud.

Because she had already gotten what she wanted to know...

The Raeti Non-Aggression Pact had not yet been torn up, and nearly eighty years had passed since its signing. This indicated that the medical station where they were located existed before the outbreak of the great plague. The plague was likely still five to six years away.

Yes, this is the "past"!

"Hmm..." Viola raised an eyebrow slightly, a hint of doubt in her eyes.

“If the nun doesn’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. I know the Funeral Home’s confidentiality agreement is very strict.”

Although her gentle nature made her seem somewhat naive, she was not stupid. She naturally knew that the nun wasn't telling the whole truth, and that she must have her own reasons for asking the question.

However, there are quite a few strange people in Funeral Parlor, so there's no need to worry too much about them.

This little incident was quickly forgotten, and Viola refocused on her wound cleaning work.

……

Bone fragments, rusted metal shavings, shards of glass. All the blood-soaked debris from Heda's wound was removed and placed on a tray to the side.

As the bandage was tied into a neat slipknot, Viola clapped her hands, finally letting out a long sigh of relief.

But instead of resting immediately, she took out a warm, steaming handkerchief and began wiping Haida's forehead.

Even with fine beads of sweat forming on her forehead, the nun didn't groan; at most, her muscles twitched instinctively a few times. Her endurance was truly astonishing; no wonder she was the head of the funeral parlor…

Haida also tried moving her arm, and although the stinging was intense, the stiffness was indeed relieved a lot.

"Thank you, Dr. Viola."

"No need to thank me, Miss Haida. The hunters carry out the most dangerous missions, and I only did a trivial job."

With a sense of satisfied accomplishment, Viola narrowed her eyes and revealed a gentle and sweet smile.

“Sister, look, the snow seems to be getting lighter.”

As she spoke, Qi raised her hand and pointed out the window of the medical station.

The gentle winter sun shone on the snow, making it gleam.

Heda followed the direction of her finger and looked towards the windowsill, where she suddenly saw a familiar figure. The person was standing by the window, gently knocking on the door with their index finger.

Her hair was as white as frost, she wore a familiar white coat, and her eyes were amber.

Without a doubt, it was Dr. Fran!

With Dr. Fran outside, what about Flamel beside him...?

2. A profound confusion brought with it an almost panicked shock. Heda turned around abruptly, only to find that Viola and the children who had been gathered around the fireplace had vanished without a trace. Flamel, however, had not disappeared; she was still fast asleep.

The surrounding scenery subtly changed the moment the nun turned her head.

This is no longer a medical station, but a long-abandoned residential building in the Hill of Silence. Through the crumbling walls, one can vaguely see the ubiquitous steel mesh and traces of rust.

As for the "Franc" who knocked on the door, there was naturally no trace of him.

Heda and Flamel returned to the Hill of Silence.

"Well……"

A soft, dreamlike murmur escaped his lips, and Flamel rubbed his eyes wearily, slowly waking up.

"Sister Haida, where are we?"

"...in the second building."

After a moment of dazed contemplation, Haida picked up Flamel, whose foot was injured, and walked out of the building.

"Flamel, you're just awake. We should go."

Unlike the spacious and complex Western-style mansion, the residential building only required a few steps to cross to the other side. Soon, the two entered the alleyway again.

Confused? No. The nun felt an intense, almost frenzied excitement, like prey that had been hunted for a long time finally revealing its tracks.

Clues, connections, logic.

It wasn't until she caught a glimpse of "Fran," who was knocking on the door outside the medical station, that Heda vaguely touched upon the truth beneath the illusory appearance of the Silent Hill.

The scenes depicted in those two buildings were remnants of the past... I had stumbled into memories of bygone days.

At the time, Aheng was in a rage, and would attack everyone almost uncontrollably. Viola, a kind medical physician, healed herself.

The self is a variable that should not exist and needs to be eliminated. After elimination, the scene in the building will show a predetermined past.

The "Dr. Fran" who knocked on the door outside the Hunter's Medical Station is also part of this memory.

At first glance, he didn't notice any difference between the "Dr. Fran" who knocked on the door and the woman he knew. But upon closer reflection, he realized that the woman who knocked on the door didn't have black sutures on her neck, which meant that she was one of the individuals embodied in this memory.

The second building likely depicts the past when Fran and Viola first met.

If my assumption is correct, then the third floor will also contain some past memories... or rather, a "secret" sealed in history.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Thank you for the tip! (kisses)

Chapter Ninety-Five: Bacteriolysis [The Hill of Silence]

Since I have stumbled into "memories", then who exactly is the owner of those memories?

Heda glanced at Flamel beside her, who tilted his head and returned her gaze with his clear amber eyes.

In the first building, Yaheng mentioned Dr. Fran in his delirious ramblings, while Viola in the second building encountered her directly... The answer seemed to be right before their eyes.

Make bold assumptions and verify carefully.

Now Heda needs to go to the third building to verify her hypothesis. If the scene that appears is still related to Fran, then the theory is basically correct.

However, some of her questions remain unanswered.

The most important question is why Dr. Fran has transformed into this harmless, childlike form... which is quite perplexing.

Setting aside distractions and clearing her mind, Haida followed Flamel's directions and headed towards the last building standing in front of the Shisham Hospital.

……

As they approached Shishem Hospital, the density of the surrounding monsters increased significantly, and they began to exhibit characteristics of medical personnel to varying degrees. Their skin was rotting and lifeless, and they wielded weapons covered in mottled rust, such as sharp knives or syringes.

Nearly forty evil creatures resembling nurses stood frozen in front of the third building, blocking the way.

Thin tops revealing bras, open necklines, and short white skirts that expose thighs... their clothing is less like medical uniforms and more like erotic attire.

Contrasting with the body that evokes primal desires is a grotesque head. Faded, rotting bandages wrap around the face, revealing only distorted, swollen flesh, barely visible features.

Surrounded by many of her kind, a nurse vaguely heard a sound coming from afar. She mechanically turned her head, trying to find out the source of the noise.

The next moment, a dark afterimage streaked past, as swift as a black steed treading on snow.

With a flash of cold light, the "nurse's" head flew into the air, and her remaining body then slumped limply to the ground.

The power sword "Nie" emitted a resounding, almost exhilarating metallic whistle as its blade swept across the bodies of numerous nurses without hindrance, leaving behind a trail of blood-splattered severed limbs with each swing.

Haida's figure was like the eye of a hurricane, and anyone who dared to stand in her way was crushed to pieces.

Faced with a group of "nurses" standing like wax figures, Haida's choice was... to force her way through.

Rather than trying to squeeze through the gaps around the monster while holding her breath and taking unnecessary risks, it's better to just run her over head-on. These nurses are all physically strong like ordinary humans and have absolutely no ability to stop her.

Flamel was currently clinging to the nun's back, her arms tightly around her neck. Judging from her dazed expression, she was probably a little carsick.

"Sister Haida, you're going too fast, I'm feeling a little uncomfortable..." the girl said weakly.

She spoke up mainly because she was worried that she might vomit on Haida because she couldn't control her dizziness.

"It'll be there soon."

The nun reassured her in a low voice.

After slicing through the last few "nurses" blocking the doorway, she raised her elbow and leaped into the doorway of the third building.

The scene changed rapidly in an instant. Haida's expression calmed down, and she returned once again from the alley of the Silent Hill to Norrington, which existed in some long-forgotten memory.

As expected, the scenes in all three buildings were reminiscent of "collecting memories".

Including the view inside that mansion.

Looking back now, it was probably one of Meredith's mansions... The main reason Heda didn't recognize the mansion when she first saw it was because the severe rust hindered her judgment.

So, what part of the past does this third building represent?

Haida quickly and meticulously surveyed her surroundings, her gray-chestnut eyes suddenly narrowing.

As far as the eye could see, the city streets were dilapidated and desolate. Everywhere there were dark green to almost black fungal patches, and unknown pale spores crawling and wriggling in the shadows.

Along the roadsides and in the deep alleys at street corners, one could see patients lying on the ground, panting. Their lives were suspended in the dying moments, just so that they could accommodate and spread the "divine plague" in their bodies for a longer period of time.

It was during a major plague...

Almost simultaneously with confirming this, Haida took out two temporary filter masks and put them on her and Flamel's mouths and noses respectively. "Armed to the teeth" was no empty phrase; she was indeed carrying a large amount of special operations equipment.

Of course, if it were a divine plague, then the only purpose of these two protective devices would be to comfort oneself.

If this kind of thing could ward off the plague, the hunters wouldn't have to suffer so many casualties... but it's better than nothing, better than nothing at all.

"Sister...please help me, my head is so itchy..."

Just as Haida hesitated about her next move, a diseased person who was still able to move crawled to her feet.

Heda didn't try to help; instead, she pulled Flamel back, creating a safe distance between them.

"Don't go, please!"

The infected person let out a wail, his words filled with a desperate plea.

"I don't need you to waste your medicine on me, and I no longer need treatment. Please give me a bullet... that will be the final cure for me..."

Because of the excessive upward movement, one of his eyeballs fell out. Then, a dark, deep green fluid flowed from its socket onto the ground, and a thriving fungal community sprouted and spread from where the fluid had dripped. (The text ends abruptly here.)