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Published at 20th of March 2024 05:25:26 AM


Chapter 42

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The potion shop.

Lynne's eyes slowly opened as he disconnected from Vision World. He swiftly sat up in the guest room, sneaking a peek at his still-slumbering companion, Left Hand. He hastily retrieved the Nightfiend Blade and darted out of the apothecary shop, cautiously sneaking into the abandoned house next door.

Choosing a secluded spot with a good vantage point, Lynne concealed himself and awaited the delivery. Despite the unexpected challenges, he urgently needed to get in touch with his mentor and Little. Should the Demonfolk Association send a formidable force, they'd be beyond saving.

With the time at hand, Lynne quickly accessed his system space and retrieved the two special items he had obtained.

"Night Doctors Class Change Scroll? Random Diagnosis?"

After thoroughly reading the descriptions, Lynne grasped the purpose of these items. Once the class change scroll was activated, it would trigger a task, teleporting him to a unique location. Upon task completion, he would formally change his profession to a Night Doctor. But the Random Diagnosis seemed more potent.

"So, possessing this skill allows me to swiftly diagnose a target?" Lynne pondered. "Activate!"

Instantaneously, the scroll in his hand transformed into rays of light, merging into him.

[Ding! You have acquired the special skill: Random Diagnosis]

[Ding! Random Diagnosis can be activated either passively or actively.]

[Passive Activation: Enables rapid, random diagnoses of a target, quickly identifying any ailments. Can be triggered by contact with any part of the target's body.]

[Active Use: Focus on the target to randomly inflict a minimum of one and up to twenty diseases. Consumes a significant amount of mental energy. PS: The diseases depend on the target's constitution and the caster's mental strength.]

Shh—

After listening to the notification, Lynne took a sharp breath. Truly worthy of a legendary skill, it can actually bestow diseases upon a target? This was incredible.

In an instant, a dark scheme formed in Lynne's mind.

Bestow disease + Cure disease = Profit.

Oh! That's devious!

No! He was a morally upright young man; he couldn't possibly engage in such a conscience-defying act! One shouldn't, at least not in good conscience!

With this thought, Lynne glanced at his left hand.

[Ding! Passive diagnosis activated.]

[Detected ailment 1: Indigestion.]

[Detected ailment 2: Pesticide Phobia.]

[Detected ailment 3: Hypersomnia.]

[Detected ailment 4: Genetic Mutation (Recessive).]

A series of system notifications resounded in Lynne's ears. With just a single glance, he had discerned all the ailments afflicting his left hand.

Lynne covertly took another sharp breath, deeply astonished.

It was too powerful! Incredibly so! For a doctor like him, this skill was a godsend!

Shortly after, Lynne hesitated. "Maybe I should try the active skill?"

No! That would be unethical. Moreover, using his left hand as a test subject would weigh heavily on his conscience!

Well… Just a little try shouldn't hurt, right?

Lynne pondered.

"Should I?"

He then made up his mind, his gaze focusing intently on his slumbering left hand, pupils contracting suddenly.

"Activate."

[Ding! You've randomly diagnosed the target with the ailment: Morning Sickness.]

[Morning Sickness: A symptom commonly appearing during pregnancy. Yet, for reasons unknown, the left-hand mutant exhibited similar reactions, feeling unexpectedly dizzy and nauseated, loss of appetite, and a bloated sensation.]

Lynne: "???"

And then, in the next moment. The left hand, which had been soundly asleep, turned pale at its palm and woke up suddenly.

"Ugh ( ; д ; ) ... I feel so dizzy and nauseous... What's going on? Did I eat something bad? No...that can't be it..."

Then, a sudden wave of nausea surged.

(ヾノ꒪ཫ꒪)——

"Ugh!! I can't hold it in! Bleh—"

With a loud retching sound, the left hand threw up a massive amount of broken limbs.

Blegh—

Blegh—

Soon after, the left hand drooped weakly and lamented, "(o x﹏x o) What caused this sudden bout of vomiting? This isn't right!"

Lynne immediately produced a vial of restorative elixir from his pocket, saying, "I told you not to eat everything in sight. Look, now you're sick. After eating all that rotten flesh yesterday and then consuming three machines today, it's a wonder you didn't vomit sooner. Here! Drink this potion and get some rest."

The left hand opened its mouth in resignation, unable to argue, and mumbled, "Ugh..."

Gulp, gulp—

It downed the potion in one go.

[Ding! Left Hand's Favorability towards you +1]

[Ding! Left Hand's Favorability towards you +1]

[Ding! The left hand's attitude towards you has slightly improved. It now thinks you're occasionally decent, even if mostly annoying.]

Lynne: "…"

The left hand yawned and haughtily stated, "Don't expect me to thank you. And don't think a mere potion will buy my loyalty. Given a chance, I'd still eat you up. Heh!"

Lynne: "…"

Indeed... it was a very powerful skill...

...

Eyes closed in meditation, Lynne felt time fly swiftly, and in what seemed like a mere moment, a faint disturbance from outside caught his attention. He promptly opened his eyes, ensuring he remained concealed.

Whooooosh—

A chilling gust blew from the outside, causing the door to creak incessantly. As Lynne looked on, a tall, slender specter appeared at the entrance.

"Your...delivery..."

A raspy voice, reminiscent of scorched vocal cords, emanated from beyond the door.

It must be the courier from the informant.

Maintaining a stoic expression, Lynne gracefully descended from the rafters to the entrance and looked up at the towering specter.

"Mr. Ennyl...is that you?"

Lynne nodded, "It's me."

He then displayed the identification provided by the informant. The elongated ghost took a moment to sniff it, verifying Lynne's identity, then rigidly extended a pale hand, removing its crown to reveal a beautifully crafted wooden box.

"Please... inspect..."

Lynne gave the specter a cursory glance, took the box, and upon opening, found four neatly placed scrolls with a card adjacent to them.

The card, inscribed with the universal script of the Dark World, read:

[Thank you for your patronage.]

[Instructions: Unfurl the scroll, drop your blood, and sign your name. The contractual agreement for the messenger has been prepared for you. Once done, the messenger will heed your summons.]

[Postscript: Kindly write your name on the back of this card and hand it to my messenger, confirming receipt of the goods.]

The slender apparition handed Lynne a feathered quill.

After a brief pause, Lynne took it. Accidentally brushing against the phantom's fingertips, an indescribable coldness immediately enveloped him, causing an involuntary shudder. Yet, concurrently, a series of notifications sounded in his ear.

[Ding! Detected ailment in target: Chronic Rheumatism.]

[Ding! Detected ailment in target: Ugliness.]

[Ding! Detected ailment in target: Cold Poison Erosion.]

[Ding! Detected ailment in target: Abdominal Cyst.]

Lynne froze for an instant. He then lifted his head deliberately, gazing intently into the eyes of the ghostly courier before him, his expression stern and unwavering.

The elongated specter faltered, puzzled by the human's penetrating stare. The intensity of Lynne's gaze was somewhat unsettling, evoking a twinge of anxiety within the specter.

"Please sign... I need to... report back..." He rasped.

Lynne raised a hand, commanding, "Hold on a moment."

The specter blinked in confusion, "What's the matter?"

Slipping on a monocle, Lynne intoned gravely, "Have you recently felt abdominal bloating, a pervasive chill throughout your body, cold twinges in your knees as you walk, and an inexplicable urge to cry when you gaze at your reflection?"

Immediately, the specter froze in place. What on earth?! How... how could he know?!

Indeed, over the past few months, he had sensed something amiss within his body, especially after a recent trip to the frigid Bone Lands. But how could this human discern such details?

Witnessing the specter's astonishment, Lynne adjusted his glasses with poise, stating: "My friend, your days seem numbered."

The specter: "???!"

Lynne continued somberly, "As you can discern, I am a professional physician. The moment I touched your fingertip, I detected abnormalities in your health. Tell me, did you experience the symptoms I just mentioned?"

The specter hesitated, "Well... somewhat..."

Lynne nodded, declaring earnestly, "Have you ventured into extreme cold regions recently, or perhaps suffered injuries from some warped creature? Do your knees throb with pain, particularly on overcast days?"

The specter, taken aback, stammered, "How... how did you know?"

Lynne squinted, "You don't need to concern yourself with how I discerned it. What you must understand is that your condition is dire. If untreated, you risk paralysis or even death. At the very least, you could lose your job, wandering aimlessly for eternity."

Panicking, the specter stuttered, "What... what should I do?"

Adjusting his glasses again, Lynne beckoned the specter and strode towards the neighboring structure.

"Fortunately, you've met me, a skilled physician dedicated to saving lives. Were it not for our fateful encounter, I might not have shared this information with you. My clinic is just next door. Allow me to examine you thoroughly. Rest assured, the costs are reasonable."

...

A few minutes later.

In the dimly lit Bloodsaw Potion Shop, the tall ghostly figure sat, looking dazed, on a small stool across the young human now donning a white lab coat. For reasons he couldn't fathom, he'd followed the human inside. By all accounts, shouldn't he hurry back to report?

Yet, the symptoms the young doctor mentioned had been troubling him for several months. And the physician had, with just a touch, precisely detailed all his ailments. Could it be possible that he, a mere messenger, had stumbled upon a serendipitous opportunity?

Wearing a surgical mask, Lynne stared at him gravely, "Your condition is a bit complex, and there are multiple issues. Let's tackle them one at a time. First, lift your leg."

The spectral figure hesitated briefly, glancing down at his own legs, then back at Lynne's trustworthy eyes. He obediently hoisted his leg onto the counter.

"Umm..."

Thud!

Without warning, Lynne tapped the specter's knee with a small reflex hammer.

Specter: "(ΩДΩ)!!"

[Specter's Sanity -10]

Lynne asked seriously, "Did that hurt?"

The specter shakily replied, "It hurt! Way more than it ever has... maybe dozens of times more!"

Lynne nodded gravely, "That pain confirms it. The root of your illness lies here. Clearly, you're suffering from rheumatism caused by cold toxins. If this continues, you might end up with osteoarthritis, rendering you bedridden."

The specter trembled, "But... it wasn't this painful before... It only hurt so much because you tapped it just now!"

Lynne adjusted his monocle, "Did I tap that hard?"

The specter hesitated, "No... not really."

Lynne, with a stern look, admonished, "If a gentle tap caused that much pain, it's clear that the disease has deeply infiltrated your system. Do you really wish to end up incapacitated, unable to even get out of bed?"

The elongated specter stuttered, unable to form a coherent response. After what felt like an eternity, he finally mumbled with a hint of hope, "It's... it's not that bad, is it?"

With a swift slap on the table, Lynne caused the specter to tremble.

Lynne spoke gravely, "Utter nonsense! Do you realize how many patients have suffered horribly, and even perished, because they clung to such wishful thinking? Do you comprehend the anguish that awaits when illness truly ravages your body?"

"It hurts!"

Leaning in slowly, Lynne continued: "It's a pain so deep it feels like death, especially on overcast days. It begins as a crawling sensation, like ants marching across your skin, then escalates as if hammers are pounding away. And in the end, it feels like knives, slicing with every beat. Each slice, each cut, so swollen that it feels like a ball of flesh... and with the slightest touch, the pain is almost unbearable."

The specter leaned back, eyes widening in fear, clutching the edges of the bench, shaking uncontrollably.

"Please, treat me! Stop talking! Doctor, stop!"

...

A few minutes later.

"This is our shop's specially crafted Bloodsaw Muscle Patch. Apply it three times daily. After each application, you're guaranteed to feel warm and tingly, and your pain will be greatly relieved."

"This is a medicinal concoction for rheumatic pain. Boil these herbs and drink the mixture once a day for seven days. If there's no improvement, come see me."

"You're tall and lanky. One look and I can tell you're malnourished. I'll prescribe some tonic herbs to ensure you're in good health, fit enough to outpace Bolt in a sprint."

Lynne calmly stuffed various medicines into the elongated specter's arms.

Holding an increasingly outrageous pile of medicine, the specter stammered, "Doctor... Isn't this a bit too much medication for me?"

Lynne responded calmly, "Too much? This is just for your rheumatism. There are other ailments I haven't mentioned yet."

The specter trembled, "What... what else is there?"

Lynne sat down, pushing the pile of medicines aside. With a stern gaze, he looked at the specter and asked, "Lately, haven't you constantly felt a deep chill in your bones? And no matter how much you move or try to keep warm, you can't seem to shake off that cold?"

The specter, with wide eyes, looked down at his pale hands and admitted, "Yes... that's true."

Lynne narrowed his eyes, "And doesn't it feel like the cold is coming from within, emanating in waves from your abdomen?"

The specter gasped, "Exactly!"

Lynne spoke gravely, "Based on my preliminary diagnosis, it appears you've been afflicted with a malignant cold toxin. This ailment has even led to a malignant cyst forming in your abdomen."

The specter exclaimed in shock, "That can't be possible!"

With a metallic sound, Lynne drew his Nightfiend Blade, stating resolutely: "We'll know for sure once we operate."





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