"It's been three days," shop manager Isaac Biddle said with a worried face, "I don't know why, but those werewolves only attack our people."
"Sometimes they ambush them during closing time or early in the morning on their way to work, as if they've targeted us."
"Five clerks have been bitten so far. Since they weren't bitten during a full moon, the healers at St. Mungo's say they shouldn't turn into werewolves, but they might develop a taste for raw meat and such..."
"Everyone is scared. Yesterday, five clerks took leave, and today seven. Perhaps tomorrow no one will come to work..." Isaac said.
Murphy frowned, werewolves specifically targeting his people? He could smell a conspiracy.
Although the assembly line model had greatly increased the production efficiency of potions, resulting in a considerable stockpile, shutting down for two or three days wasn't a big deal. However, this wasn't a solution.
"Let's visit those bitten clerks first."
They went to St. Mungo's.
Second floor, Creature-Induced Injuries.
In a ward, Murphy met his clerks.
Their injuries were not life-threatening, with two bitten on the arms, almost unharmed, one witch bitten on the shoulder, and the other two, one missing half an ear and another bitten on the face and neck, disfigured, the most severely injured.
"I used silver dust and Dittany to stop the bleeding, but most will have scars, and we don't have a good way to treat that." Healer Hippocrates Smethwyck explained to Murphy.
"Fortunately, they were bitten in human form by werewolves, not during a full moon. Based on our experience, this means they are unlikely to contract the dreadful Lycanthropy, meaning they won't become true werewolves but may exhibit some werewolf traits."
Of course, the situation was not as light as he described.
Many wizards don't even consider werewolves human, and just being bitten by one could lead to discrimination and ridicule.
The clerks looked very downcast.
A middle-aged woman who seemed to be the mother of the one bitten on the face and neck pleaded with Hippocrates for a long time, worried that the scars might affect her son's future employment and marriage prospects.
"Sorry, madam, I understand your feelings, but werewolf bites are a type of magical injury, and we have no way to treat them..."
Murphy listened for a while and suddenly asked, "What makes magical injuries incurable? Is it because the evil magic still lingers on the wound?"
"That's of course why we can't fully heal them!"
"Do spells like Episkey have no effect on this?"
"Of course!" Hippocrates seemed a bit angry, "If they worked, we would have healed them all by now!"
"What about excising the tissue around the wound that might be contaminated with magic? Would it then be just like a normal wound?"
"What?" Hippocrates was stunned, "How could we possibly enlarge the wound? Sir, who are you? Are you questioning my treatment methods?"
"No, of course not, I'm just making a suggestion..."
"Keep your suggestions to yourself, sir! This is St. Mungo's! And I am a healer here! You are not! I know more about these illnesses than you do!"
Murphy frowned, so why are you so upset? Why are you more irritable than me?
"Chief Healer, I, I think this gentleman's suggestion might be worth trying..." At this moment, a young witch standing aside, dressed in a dark green healer's robe with "Intern" on her chest, hesitantly spoke up.
"I read in a book that Mungo Bonham once used a similar method to treat a patient bitten by a Chimera..."
"Silence! Euphemia!" Hippocrates was furious, "You haven't even earned your qualification yet! You have much to learn about healing!" Euphemia turned pale with fright, not daring to say another word.
Murphy, however, looked at the young witch, "Miss Euphemia, what do you think is the reason magical wounds are hard to heal?"
"This..." She glanced at Hippocrates, shook her head, "I don't know, sir, no one knows..."
Murphy nodded, "Do you want to figure it out?"
"What?"
"My clerks have been bitten, and as their employer, I have a duty to protect my employees and ensure their well-being. Therefore, I cannot ignore this. I need someone to heal them."
"I would like to invite you to research the reasons these wounds are hard to heal, and then, cure them."
"But, but no one knows these reasons, sir, I might not be able to..."
"Did anyone know the effects of Dittany from the beginning? Did Skele-Gro just appear out of nowhere? Miss Euphemia, any treatment method for any disease needs someone to diligently research to find it."
"We don't know these reasons now, that's okay, we can research. But if we turn a blind eye to a disease, accepting 'we are powerless' as a matter of course, then we will never have a chance to defeat it. Miss Euphemia, what do you think?"
"What are you doing, sir! Are you trying to poach my intern?" Hippocrates was outraged, "This is absurd! This is the best magical hospital! She can only learn the best healing arts here!"
"Even when you can't heal a werewolf bite?"
"No one can heal that!"
"Then what difference does it make where she is?"
"..."
"Miss Euphemia, what do you say?"
"I, I'm just an intern, sir, I'm still very inexperienced..." The young witch was nervous, having never encountered such a situation, "I might not be of any help."
"Oh, but at least, you have the courage to try, don't you?"
Murphy was nonchalant. He had visited St. Mungo's a few times and didn't have much hope for the level of healers here. Most of them weren't even as good as the school nurse, Madam Pomfrey.
Compared to that, the willingness to explore was even more important.
"How much does St. Mungo's pay you, miss? I'll pay you double. We also have many smart people who will help you realize your ideas."
"But, but..."
Murphy extended his hand, "Miss Euphemia, would you prefer to stay here, learning to say 'we are powerless,' or come with me and try to do something about it?"
The young witch looked at the outstretched hand, then at those determined eyes without a hint of hesitation, her heart skipped a beat, and she reached out her hand, letting him grasp it.
Murphy smiled, pulling her to his side.
Then he said to Hippocrates, "Sorry, Healer, since St. Mungo's can't heal my clerks, I'll take them with me."
"This is the only magical hospital in England! And the best!" Hippocrates found the situation utterly absurd, "Where can you take them?!"
"Only? Best?" Murphy shook his head, "It won't be for long."
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