"Although my intention was not to disturb you."
In Fang Mo's room, Ancient One while drinking tea, spoke, "But the person seeking help this time is Strange, so do you want to go out and take a look with me?"
"Oh, wait a moment for me..."
Fang Mo was researching matters related to dimensional fusion and truly had no time to consider anything else at the moment, directly waving his hand at Ancient One.
When previously devouring the Dark Dimension of Dormammu, Fang Mo had utilized the power of six dimensions in total.
This was tantamount to the Dark Dimension being devoured by his six great dimensions, and now Fang Mo wanted to fuse the dark extradimensional space with the Dark Dimension, which necessitated first spitting out this devoured portion and then reassembling it into a relatively complete dimension.
This step was actually quite troublesome, after all, the Dark Dimension had devoured countless worlds, its scale immensely vast. Fang Mo spent half a day's effort to piece it together like a puzzle.
When Ancient One was talking to him just now.
Fang Mo had also reached the final step in piecing together the Dark Dimension, which was recognizing the master.
Yes, since it lost Dormammu as its master, the Dark Dimension urgently needed a new master to dominate everything, and this new master was clearly Fang Mo himself.
Actually, obtaining the dominion over the Dark Dimension was quite easy.
Not just Fang Mo, any thinking creature entering the Dark Dimension could become the new Dormammu, controlling this ownerless extradimensional space.
But the problem is this so-called Dark Dimension.
It's somewhat different from the six major dimensions Fang Mo himself carries.
The dimensions in Fang Mo's hands are materialized from the MC reality, even Fang Mo himself does not understand their logic determinations, but they are indeed not much influenced by the sanctum's barrier.
But Dormammu's Dark Dimension is different.
This thing seems to have a grudge against the sanctum's barrier, if Fang Mo becomes the master of this thing, not to mention using the power of darkness on Earth, merely standing on Earth others might suffer from the violent repulsion of the sanctum's barrier.
This is not the situation Fang Mo wants to see.
To solve this problem, Fang Mo also specifically thought of several methods.
Like first fusing a part of the dark dimension, or using a nameplate to change its name or something, or even considering sealing it with a Tinkers' weapon.
Fortunately, Fang Mo recently read quite a few of Ancient One's privately collected magic books.
So, he also gained a deeper understanding of the sanctum's barrier of Kamar-Taj.
Thus, after operating both the barrier and the Dark Dimension for a while, Fang Mo then confidently took over the full dominion of this dimension without suffering from the violent repulsion of the sanctum's barrier.
"Uh, barely managed it."
After resolving this issue, Fang Mo then took a long breath of relief.
"Can we talk now?"
Seeing this, Ancient One next to him spoke again, "Strange must have been waiting there for over half an hour by now, his arms completely lost, sitting there unable to even drink tea, I think his patience must be nearly worn out."
"With such a large place as Kamar-Taj, is it that hard to prepare a straw?"
Fang Mo retorted, "So, the conversation comes back to this point. This guy lost both his arms and yet could traverse half the globe to find this place... How strong exactly is the correcting power of fate?"
"Fate has really tried hard to put Strange back on the right track," Ancient One said.
"Can't you have a bit of sympathy for it?" Ancient One asked.
"I know you're anxious, but don't rush. Since I've said it, I will definitely arrange for Strange," Fang Mo waved his hand and said, "Let's go, we should first check on the patient's condition."
At this point, Fang Mo pulled out a giant scythe.
"..."
Ancient One glanced at Fang Mo and stopped in her tracks.
"What's wrong?" Seeing Ancient One stop, Fang Mo, holding the scythe, urged, "Let's go, to see the patient, weren't you in a hurry just now?"
"That scythe of yours looks more like it's for seeing off the deceased," Ancient One said.
"Oh, don't worry about that," Fang Mo waved his hand and said, "On the day of your funeral, I will also carry this scythe and perform a dance for you. It's a special skill I learned from Junmaro, the dance of the leek flowers."
"..."
Ancient One was speechless. Honestly, dealing with this guy was simply too headache-inducing. If it wasn't for training Strange to become the next Sorcerer Supreme, she would rather die now, just let go of everything and not deal with these annoying matters anymore.
"Let's go."
Seeing Ancient One silent, Fang Mo urged again, "What's the matter, have you been possessed by Stephen Hawking?"
"Please do not insult historical figures," Ancient One sighed helplessly and then turned to walk towards the dojo's reception hall.
"Why didn't Hawking come to Kamar-Taj to learn magic?" Fang Mo completely ignored Ancient One's comment, carrying the scythe and chatting as he walked, "If he learned the magic here, could he have stood up and walked?"
"..."
Ancient One did not engage.
She had probably realized by now, the more she criticized, the more ruthless this guy got in stirring up trouble.
"Ah, it's a pity that great people don't live long," Despite Ancient One's silence, Fang Mo continued to talk to himself, "When my friend told me Hawking passed away, I was damn surprised. I wondered when his legs got cured? Later I realized... the man was gone..."
(TL: This joke is made before the Epstein Island list, so it's a bit mild)
During their conversation.
The two had already arrived at the front hall of the Kamar-Taj dojo.
And there, Fang Mo did indeed see a homeless man looking uneasy.
This person was obviously Strange, but unlike the imposing Doctor Strange of the movies, the man before them was in a state of utter disarray.
He was seen with his hair unkempt and disheveled, appearing as if he hadn't washed it for months. His haggard face was covered in stubble, and his clothes were worn and tattered, stained with many unidentifiable marks.
But what stood out most were his eyes, murky and numb, as if they had lost all their light.
This was a far cry from his appearance in the original work when he went to Kamar-Taj.
In the original work, Stephen Strange could at least be considered a seeker, but now he had truly become a vagrant, especially since he had lost his arms, which seemed to have caused him to lose a lot of weight.
Originally, Strange was sitting on a stool, lost in thought.
Hearing footsteps, he subconsciously looked up.
He was startled by the sight of the Ancient One walking towards him, accompanied by Fang Mo, who was carrying a giant scythe, and he immediately stood up from the stool.
"!?"
Strange instinctively took a couple of steps back, his face showing a hint of caution.
"Don't worry, Mr. Strange."
Seeing the Sorcerer Supreme he had appointed reduced to this state, the Ancient One seemed somewhat heartbroken and thus offered a word of comfort: "This place is safe; there will be no dark magic or zealots here."
"You... know my name?"
After hearing the Ancient One's words, Strange calmed down a bit. He glanced at the two, and then suddenly asked Fang Mo, "Are you the Ancient One?"
"Oh, sorry, you've mistaken me for someone else."
Hearing Strange's words, Fang Mo laughed and shook his head: "To ease your doubts, let's introduce ourselves. The bald man standing before you is indeed the Sorcerer Supreme of Kamar-Taj, the Ancient One. And I," he said, pointing to himself, "am the unfortunate friend she's been saddled with for eight lifetimes, the Worst Sorcerer, Bald Supreme the Second Egg."
"...Huh?"
Strange's expression became distrustful once more upon hearing this.
"Mr. Strange, I'm sorry, his name is Fang Mo." The Ancient One, seeing no other option, explained helplessly: "I hope you can understand that some sorcerers' personalities... might not be widely accepted."
"Alright, alright, I don't mind these things."
Strange shook his head, seemingly impatient: "What I want to know is, did you cure someone named Benjamin? I remember he has been paralyzed for a long time."
"Sort of."
The Ancient One nodded.
"You actually helped him stand again, that's truly a miracle." Strange asked, "But how did you cure a completely damaged cervical spine?"
"I didn't cure it."
The Ancient One calmly explained: "Benjamin indeed couldn't walk. I simply convinced him that he could."
"Huh? You're not suggesting 'mind over matter,' are you?"
Strange was stunned, then couldn't help but say: "Sorry, I have to clarify, although I've lost my arms now, I used to be the most famous surgeon in New York City, so..."
"Wait, you said you're a doctor?"
However, before Strange could finish, Fang Mo suddenly interrupted him.
"Of course, why?"
Strange immediately nodded, clearly proud of his identity: "In fact, I would prefer you to call me Doctor Strange, rather than Mister."
"That's a coincidence."
Upon hearing this, Fang Mo suddenly burst into laughter: "You might not believe this, but I am also a doctor."
"I didn't expect to meet a colleague here."
Strange was a bit surprised after hearing this: "Which department do you work in? Cardiac surgery, neurology, or an emergency physician? Where did you practice before? Maybe we've met before..."
"I'm sorry, I practice traditional Chinese medicine, so I don't have a specific department."
Fang Mo chuckled and shook his head: "Previously, I wandered the world under names like Xiongfengshan, Wurenji, Liu Hongbin, Zhang Sangui, and Miao Sanqi, known by nicknames such as Ancestor of the Dark Box, Hater of the God of Longevity, and the sole decision-maker of Fengdu Pharmaceuticals."
"Uh... that doesn't sound like a very positive title."
Strange was taken aback and then couldn't help but frown: "But since you're here, in the legendary Kamar-Taj, being a doctor must have been your previous job, right?"
"Correct, I have become a mage."
Fang Mo proudly stated: "But my greatest strength is never forgetting my roots, so I not only study magic but also continue to practice medicine, and now I have become a well-known forensic expert."
Strange fell silent after hearing this.
Soon, he gave up on continuing the conversation with Fang Mo and turned to the Ancient One again: "Sorry, I want to hear your explanation on how you healed that person, if you can really repair spinal nerves..."
"The principle is actually very simple."
The Ancient One was quite serious in teaching him: "When you reconnect the damaged nerves, is it you who repaired the nerves, or the body itself?"
"It's the cells."
Strange said without hesitation.
"Cells just reorganize according to a specific program," the Ancient One said. "What if I told you your body could be convinced to heal in any way you believe... would you believe that?"
"You're not talking about cell regeneration, are you?"
Strange's breathing became a bit rapid upon hearing this: "That's a very advanced medical technology. How did you guys research this? Does the medical council know about this? How mature is your therapy?"
"If you want to repair severed nerves, it's already very mature."
The Ancient One said this and then suddenly turned to look at Fang Mo again: "But if what you want is limb regeneration, then I can only say, there might be a small risk and a price to pay..."
"Teach me..."
Strange said with a trembling voice.
He had seen his own patient, a quadriplegic declared by the medical system as incurable, bouncing around and playing basketball. He learned of Kamar-Taj's address from him.
To cure his own hands, Strange was truly desperate.
"Please, teach me."
Strange spoke again.
"I can teach you, but the question is whether you are willing to believe."
As Ancient One spoke, she took out a few books from not far away and opened them for Doctor Strange to see. They seemed to be some diagrams of meridians, Indian chakras, as well as Western MRI scans and human anatomy illustrations.
"Why are you showing me these?"
Doctor Strange looked a bit confused: "Is this a prerequisite for learning cell regeneration techniques?"
"Sort of, but not exactly," the Ancient One told Doctor Strange. "Actually, you and the authors of these books are alike in that you both have only seen parts of the world, not the whole. Just like yourself, most people view the entire world through a keyhole."
"Master, Ancient One."
Doctor Strange felt somewhat lost in the fog, which made him increasingly impatient: "I don't understand these grand principles you're speaking of. Really, I just want to heal my hands. You just need to tell me what I should do, what I need to sacrifice, and then I'll do it right away, okay?"
"But your consciousness is resisting this," the Ancient One said.
"That's because I am a surgeon. I only know that we are all made of matter," Doctor Strange retorted without hesitation. "As for energy, chakras, and those zealots who seemed crazy enough to chop off my arm... I really don't want to think too much about these. I just want to heal my arm, even if it involves illegal arm transplantation, as long as it allows me to stay in the operating room, understand?"
"Is that so?"
The Ancient One looked at Doctor Strange, who was now both despondent and impatient. It was clear that he still needed some refining to become a Sorcerer Supreme.
"Then it seems we must teach you in another way," the Ancient One said. "If you find my method unsatisfactory, then go seek out Master Fang Mo. He is more adept at healing and won't bother explaining those complex and profound concepts to you."
"If you just want to pay the price and then regain the use of your arms, then go find him…"