It was still 07:31 at the time I left. As I still had more time left, I decided to visit a place that I truly despise, to the point that I always avoid any reason that would lead me to visit such a place.
Still within the west area of the Lowstreet, I entered a glass door within a cramped alley. Above the glass door I entered, there was a sign that read 'Red Heart Clinic' in scarlet neon.
"Sir Faust Hecates! It was nice meeting you again after a much, much longer time! Did you break your bones? Splattered open your calf? Oh! Do you want some brain stem injections?"
It was a person that embodied insanity, in the form of a 170 cm slender woman in a lab coat who had just opened her arms out of satisfaction from the glimpse of a long lost prey. Those empty red eyes didn't change after these years. Although, it seemed like she had grown in terms of hair, and decided to try looking more innocent by making a twintail out of her scarlet hair. Which definitely won't work for me.
Her manic open smile was at its widest, as the zigzagging red stitches on her mouth prevented her from looking even more crazy. Although, she already looked really crazy.
At least she wasn't ugly, which was a plus. Then again, it was a loss for someone like that freak to be a freak in the first place.
"Indeed, it has been a long time. How's your business for the past years, Meteia?"
"Stagnating. It wasn't the best, and wasn't the worst." She assessed my condition with excitement, too excited even. "Why haven't you been visiting me since all these years? Don't tell me that you were never wounded within that amount of time."
"Of course, isn't it obvious?"
"Theeen, you must've failed on maintaining your streak if you ended up coming here~"
"I met with the Golden Beard, and we had some nice spar after a long time."
Donning a creepy smile beneath the stitches of red thread, she played with my broken left arm like it was a strain of noodle. As an extra, she poked my chest where the rib cage was broken like a curious cat.
It was hurt as hell but I didn't want to give her the final laugh.
"Welp, thank to that stupid Hans, I finally met with my evil friend that had been ghosting me for years."
"It's worth it."
"The wound?"
"No, the ghosting."
She punched my stomach afterward. I couldn't help but weaken on my knees due to the shock factor of that strike.
After some jokes and haymaker punches that were thrown, the crazy professor of pain guided me through the simplistic building that she had, to the operation room at the edge of a short hallway.
She told me to go inside first as she prepared the equipment and medicine from her 'special' storage. She said nonchalantly that there haven't been any patients that dared to come into her clinic for the past two months.
It was a moment of serenity before the chaos unfolded. In the end, I was tied onto a metal platform as she wore no hygiene procedure whatsoever except for a simple set of medical gloves. The whole time, her manic smile was there, and it sure did crept me out, no matter how many times she did that.
"You know, I thought that I won't be experiencing this again."
"Well, it's your luck, my love~"
The operation started.
And there was no special preparation on my side, except for the fact that I'm topless.
Ten minutes in, I'm trying my best to not bite my tongue under a smile.
"My, my~ like usual, you're one tough cookie, Sir Faust."
Meteia was an excellent Medical Patcher back in the days. All of her operations would always result in a success, and there was no to little downside of being treated by her, especially in terms of recovering a damaged body part. In fact, she was so excellent, she ended up enhancing anybody that she operated.
While her treatment was a solid ten out of ten within that first statement, there was a glaring problem that gave her the title of the 'Blood Devil'.
Firstly, she refused to operate on an unconscious person. Secondly, she refused to give any anesthesia or any kind of pain killer known in the world.
"... Did I just hear a bone crack!?"
"Haish, you caught me inserting something into your bone marrow."
"May I know that 'something'?"
"It's a secret~"
Mostly enough, I would deem this as some kind of trial from the depth of hell that humans would go through to cleanse their sin from every inch of their skin. Regardless of the process, having her to commence her favorite operation, ironically didn't put any kind of risk except for the fact that she won't drop a single drop of sedative inside of your body.
It was the total opposite to hundreds of clinics in this District's Lowstreet, or just, the overall entirety of veins of the City itself, where one may awake in a dumpster with missing limbs, and there were also the kind where they would put a time bomb or some kind of tracking device beneath your skin.
Then again, without all of that bullshitery, most clinics in the Lowstreet had the chance to accidentally kill you for absolutely no reason within this kind of procedure. I for one, believe that Meteia didn't have the slightest intent to kill people unreasonably. She was a sadist, not a serial killer.
"Such lean, yet durable muscles. Surprisingly, it had the same volume as I remembered back then," she said while doing unspeakable things to my body.
"I don't know if I should take that as a compliment or a warning."
It was also a reason why enhancement procedures were done by a team from a credential Workshop, and many Patcher Offices began to transform their core service foundation into a potions, healing vials, or healing scrolls distributor.
Albeit, it would definitely take more of your wealth than trying to gamble your body to a shady clinic. And some of them had their own risks as well. My approach to that situation was mostly about not trying to get myself injured as much.
Despite this, people often get tricked by these kinds of clinics when they are desperately enticed by the juicy offer of impossible enhancement that those clinics provide. Well, and just anything shady in general, because humans can't accurately comprehend the concept of negative to properly handle their respective situation on the first try. As those first tries would mean the end in most cases.
We only live once, after all.
Everything can kill you, and anything will eventually kill you.
Which was why, I prefered to suffer the agony of thousands cuts than meeting with the gatekeeper of hell.
"Seriously, these are some fine muscles that you cultivated there, Sir Faust. Can I twist it?"
"I prefer not."