I've always had a dream of opening a clinic. And now, that dream's come true, though not exactly how I imagined it.
"You're giving me a place? To treat patients? You want me to set up a clinic?" I asked, just to be sure.
"Yeah. Whatever you want to call it. You can also live there."
A clinic and a place to live? Well, it's not like I have many options. They're giving me a roof over my head, so I'm grateful for that.
But I'll need to prepare. I need proper equipment to make sure I can treat my patients properly. There's no way I'm suturing with sewing needles again.
"Yeah, I can do that. But I've got a request."
Ingmar frowned. "Spit it out."
"I need proper medical tools and supplies. What I did with Varin yesterday was an emergency. If you want me to set up a clinic, I need to be prepared."
Ingmar pursed his lips as he listened to me.
"What exactly do you need?" he asked.
"Well, a lot. Like scalpels, forceps, retractors, clamps, needle holders…"
"Okay, okay, I get it. You can ask Erik for all that."
Erik? Who's this now? Looks like I'm going to have to get to know a lot of new people from now on.
"I'm new here, and I don't really know anyone."
"Hm. You are right. Ulfrik brought you here only two days before you ran off. I guess you haven't met many people in the clan."
"Guess I'll need someone to guide me," I suggested.
In the middle of our conversation, someone I really didn't want to see showed up. And, as usual, she was mad.
"How dare you ignore me, you jerk!"
Ingrid screamed right in my face for no apparent reason. I just sighed.
"Well, perfect timing, Ingrid. Maikal needs new equipment. Take him to Erik and show him his new place. If you can, give him a tour of the settlement."
"WHAT!?" Ingrid and I both shouted at the same time.
Naturally, both of us protested against Ingmar's suggestion. I didn't want to deal with Ingrid, and she clearly despised me. We were like fire and water—completely opposite.
But Ingmar just laughed when he saw our reactions.
"Wow. You two are like a couple. What a great match."
With that, Ingmar walked away, still laughing. I honestly had no idea what was going through his head.
"Why does it have to be you," I grumbled.
"What did you say? You think I want this either, huh?"
This is driving me crazy. This woman's like a four-year-old. You never know when she's going to throw a tantrum. Dealing with her is never-ending.
"Okay, fine. Can you show me my new place?"
Ingrid scoffed. "If it weren't for Ingmar, I wouldn't be caught dead doing this."
There's nothing more annoying than listening to her rant. And I'm probably stuck with her all day since I have so much to get done.
So, once again, I followed Ingrid. The red-haired woman led me to a small hut near the wooden walls.
My new clinic was a bit far from the other houses and somewhat isolated, which was a good thing. Considering all the animals roaming freely here, even inside the houses, people seem to live alongside them for some reason.
Being away from the other houses would keep this place safe from contamination. I might end up performing surgeries here, so I need this place to be as sterile as possible.
"This is your new place. It used to be a storage shed for unused stuff, so it might be pretty dusty inside," Ingrid said.
I checked the inside of the hut, and luckily, there was no major damage like a leaking roof or broken walls. It just needed a lot of cleaning.
"I wish it were a bit bigger inside, but this will do."
"Good for you then," Ingrid replied skeptically. "If you're looking for more space, the only place we can give you is stable."
Once again, this woman was picking a fight even though I didn't say anything offensive. Seems like her annoying attitude is just part of who she is.
"Can you take me to Erik?"
Ingrid didn't respond. Instead, she just jerked her chin forward, signaling me to follow her.
I sighed. Dealing with someone like her definitely requires extra patience.
The blacksmith's workshop was located in the middle of the settlement, surrounded by pig and cattle pens. The smell of manure was strong in the air as Ingrid and I stood at the front of the workshop.
It was a lot more humble than I had imagined. No doors, no windows. Just a small shack with an open front and a stone chimney spewing smoke.
The blacksmith was busy hammering away, pounding red-hot metal on the anvil with a hammer as big as his arm. Just by the sweat dripping from his face, I could feel how intense the heat must be around the forge.
"Hey, Erik. This guy's looking for you."
When Ingrid called out to the blacksmith, he stopped hammering. His eyes locked onto me with a puzzled look. Before he could ask anything, I introduced myself.
"Name's Michael. Ingmar sent me over here. He said you could make the tools I need."
Erik didn't respond to me right away, his eyes darting to Ingrid as if to ask if what I said was true. He didn't seem to trust me at all.
"Yeah, Ingmar sent him. He's going to be our new seer or something," Ingrid said.
"What? A seer? No way. He's got a dick between his legs."
Ingrid snickered at that.
Meanwhile, I shook my head.
"No. I'm not a seer. I'm a doctor," I clarified.
"What's that? A pig farmer?"
Ingrid burst out laughing while I facepalmed. I couldn't really blame him for not knowing. It's my fault for using a term that doesn't exist at this time.
"Yeah, he's a pig farmer. Used to take care of Ulfrik's pigs," Ingrid chimed in.
"Ulfrik?" Erik squinted his eyes, and then after a moment, they widened in realization. "Ah, you're that slave everyone's been talking about. You're a free man now, huh? So, what do you need, Maikal the Pig Farmer?"
Naturally, Ingrid laughed even harder.
I couldn't believe Erik actually bought her story. Was this guy joking? Or was he just plain dumb? I couldn't really tell.
"What? No! I'm not a pig farmer... I'm a... never mind."
Trying to explain to someone like him would just be a waste of time. And Ingrid wasn't going to help me at all. So, I went straight to the point.
"Can you make the tools I need or not?"
"Of course I can. Do you think I'm some amateur? They call me Erik the Skilled Hand for a reason."
Erik puffed out his chest, bragging about himself. I just nodded in response.
Since describing medical tools verbally was difficult, I picked up a piece of charcoal lying on the ground. Then, I began sketching out all the medical instruments on a flat stone slab.
It took about thirty minutes to draw everything.
"Can you make them?"
Erik stroked his chin as he looked at my sketches.
"I've never made tools like these before. They look really weird. Especially this one. What is it? It's so small."
"That's a needle."
Erik frowned. It seemed like he was having trouble with the idea of making a surgical needle. The size was so small, and the curved shape, like the tip of a nail, was probably hard to forge. Not to mention, he'd have to make the eye of the needle too. I wouldn't blame him if he couldn't do it.
"Are you trying to mess with Erik?"
Out of nowhere, Ingrid accused me of something ridiculous.
"No needle looks that weird. You're just making stuff up, aren't you? Typical pig farmer!"
"Of course not. Why would I do that? If you don't know anything, it's better if you shut up," I shot back, defending myself.
As always, this woman was just looking for trouble.
Meanwhile, Erik was still staring at my sketches.
"So? Can you make them?" I asked.
"Well, I don't know what these things are for, but I'll give it a shot. Don't underestimate Erik the Skilled Hand! Give me two weeks to finish them."
Even though this guy might be a little slow, I liked his confidence.
I wasn't sure if the tools Erik forged would match the standard ones I was used to, but as long as I could perform surgeries properly, it would be enough.
After that, Ingrid and I left the workshop.
"My job's done. I'm leaving," Ingrid said, clearly wanting to bail.
"Hold on. I'm not finished yet. I still need more stuff," I called out.
Ingrid hissed in frustration. "What else do you need? I don't have time for—"
Suddenly, the scream of a man cut through the air. It wasn't just Ingrid and me who heard it; everyone around turned in the direction of the sound. From its pitch, it sounded like someone was hurt.
"Hey, jerk! Don't just run off when I'm talking to you!"
I sprinted toward the scream as Ingrid yelled at me.
A crowd had gathered, and I pushed my way through. Wherever there's a crowd, there's usually trouble.
"Excuse me."
I maneuvered through the group of burly men. Luckily, they stepped aside instead of giving me a hard time. I found a man curled up on the ground, clutching his leg.
"My leg! My leg!"
The man groaned in agony, gripping his leg tightly.
"What happened to him?" I asked someone nearby.
"Uh, he fell while he was fixing the roof."
I knelt beside him right away.
"Let me take a look."
The moment I touched his injured leg, he screamed like a madman, causing the crowd around us to panic. I rolled up his pants to get a closer look at his shin. The area was swollen.
This guy had a broken leg. There was a possibility the muscles around his fascia and ligaments were torn too.
But I didn't have my medical equipment with me. Could I fix this?