Charles flashed his signature smile, pointing to an iron stool beside him, "Not a problem, please have a seat."
At that moment, he exuded an air of calm authority unique to medical professionals. After a brief hesitation, the creature obediently lifted itself onto the stool.
Crack.
With the creature's massive weight pressing down, the stool shattered like a toy.
The creature thudded to the ground with a "thump," causing the entire clinic to quiver. Lights flickered, and dust began to fall.
"Ah, sitting on the floor is fine as well,"
Charles coughed twice to cover the awkwardness and, without giving the creature time to react, he approached for closer inspection.
The more he looked, the more astonished he felt. This creature bore not the slightest resemblance to a human being!
It was more like a tumorous mass of flesh, cobbled together from countless decaying bits. Entangled among the folds of rotting flesh were broken limbs and clumps of hair.
Charles reached out his hand and pressed it against the creature's amorphous abdomen.
Wet, slimy.
The creature's body convulsed slightly, as if sensitive to the touch.
In that instant, Charles's eyes turned red.
The data appeared again!
[Tumour Ghost]
[Race: Stitched Monster]
[Level: 10]
[Disposition]: Neutral Evil
[Combat Capability]: This guy is keen on attaching all kinds of rotting flesh to itself... it's pondering whether or not to tear you in half to fashion its own "scarf."
Symptom: Localized piercing pain caused by a sharp object
[Etiology]: A hundred years ago, it encountered a great crisis. Its fat body saved its life. But even to this day, a half-length sharp short sword remains lodged in its butts, causing intermittent pain.
Through Charles's eyes, he saw Tumour Ghost's information and immediately formulated a corresponding treatment plan. However, due to the massive size of Tumour Ghost, the half-length short sword seemed to be deeply embedded, invisible from the outside.
"What's the matter, Doctor? Have you figured it out yet? Can you not treat my condition, or... are you not a doctor at all?"
Tumour Ghost's voice became increasingly agitated. Charles felt the air pressure inside the room dropping rapidly, making even breathing somewhat difficult.
It seemed that the earlier examination had taken too long, and Tumour Ghost's patience was wearing thin.
Just as Tumour Ghost began to wriggle, ready to rise and squash Charles with its enormous body, Charles waved his hand and calmly said, "Alright, the diagnosis is clear."
"You have a sword lodged in your butts. A minor surgery will take care of that."
"Dragging it for a hundred years has escalated a minor issue into a major one. You're fortunate to have encountered me; your luck isn't too bad."
A hundred years?
A sword!
Upon hearing this, Tumour Ghost was utterly astounded.
It had never mentioned to anyone that rainy night a hundred years ago, the fortunate escape from death…
And now, this doctor whom it had just met not only had the timing entirely accurate but even correctly identified the weapon that had caused the injury.
Could this truly be an extraordinary doctor?
"Alright, stand up."
"What's with all this rotten flesh you've plastered onto yourself? You've even managed to cover up the sword. I need to use my hand to locate its position."
As Charles spoke, he extended his finger and began poking Tumour Ghost's posterior.
With each poke, Tumour Ghost's body gave a slight shudder, and ripples spread across its fleshy exterior, like circles in a pond.
"Do you feel anything here?"
"And here?"
"How about here?"
With each successive poke, a subtle sensation began to creep into Tumour Ghost's consciousness. After a brief eye contact with Charles...
This mass of rotting flesh, which constituted the monster's body, surprisingly turned its head away shyly, unable to meet Charles's eyes any longer.
When its raspy voice rose again, it was no longer fraught with agitation and menace, but rather tinged with a hint of shyness.
"I, I felt something just now..."
"Um, Doctor... could you be a bit gentler? I'm afraid it will hurt..."
"Just bear with it; it will be over soon," Charles said as he continued poking.
His hands quickly became smeared with slippery, congealed blood. As a professional doctor, he was accustomed to such sights and it did not deter him from focusing on the task at hand.
Amidst Tumour Ghost's increasingly shy cries of discomfort, Charles quickly located the broken sword embedded in its flesh through his rich experience.
"Alright, we're almost there. Ready for the surgery?"
"Please go ahead, Doctor..."
Satisfied, Charles patted Tumour Ghost and gestured for it to lie down with its butts end facing up. He then turned and walked over to a rusty metal cabinet.
Since this was a clinic, it was naturally stocked with medical tools—surgical scalpels, hemostats, forceps, and the like.
Charles' original scalpel had somehow been lost. It might have happened when he used the Juwel-002. Strangely, all memories within those five minutes had vanished.
Quality tools could greatly improve the efficiency of a surgery. After all, it wasn't like Charles could rip open Tumour Ghost's butts end with his hands, right?
With an unpleasant metallic scraping sound, Charles pulled open the cabinet door.
[Rusty Saw]
[Description: A rusty, serrated saw. You can use it to slowly saw the patient in half.]
[Iron Hammer]
[Description: A dull iron hammer. With some effort, you can crack open the patient's skull.]
[Juwel's Bone-Trimming Knife]
[Description: A scalpel often used by Juwel. Due to excessive use, it has become severely worn and needs to be sharpened before use.]
[Sealing Tape]
[Description: A roll of sealing tape. You can use it to seal the patient's mouth to prevent their screams from causing panic among other guests.]
Rusty saw, iron hammer, bone-trimming knife, sealing tape—aside from these, the cabinet held a variety of other strange tools that seemed to have nothing to do with surgery.
Were these really the things that should be in a clinic? It looked more like a serial killer's collection, making Charles even more curious about Juwel's true identity.
After selecting a few somewhat usable tools, he returned to Tumour Ghost's side.
Due to Tumour Ghost's large size, the clinic didn't have a suitable operating table. The creature lay somewhat comically on the ground, its butts end elevated in anticipation of the surgery.
Tumour Ghost had been alive for thousands of years, amassing a wealth of experience. However, it was its first time laying down for someone to poke its rear end.
Nervous, scared, uneasy—all sorts of emotions manifested, contorting its already grotesque and terrifying face even more.
When Tumour Ghost turned its head and saw the "tools" Charles was carrying, it became even more horrified.
Trembling, it asked, "Doctor... what are you going to do with those?"
"Perform your surgery, of course."
"Surgery?... Does surgery require a bone-trimming knife, an iron hammer, and a saw?"
"Absolutely."
Charles replied calmly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, before tossing the tools onto the ground.
"Let me see, what would be the most suitable weapon—ah, I mean, tool—for the surgical."