Laying on a metal operating table was the unconscious body of the manor master. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, eyes shut peacefully, all thanks to the powerful anesthesia that kept him in a deep, unresponsive state.
Lynn stood attentively beside, gazing down at the man who had come to trust him with such a delicate procedure. The room around them was a makeshift surgical suite with all the necessary items for his work.
A bright surgical light hung directly above, bathing the area in shadowless illumination focused squarely on the patient. Silver trays of gleaming tools and implements were arranged meticulously within arm's reach.
Crates of bandages, bottles, and bulging bags of intravenous fluids lined the walls. If he did not know he was still inside the manor grounds, Lynn might believe he had been transported magically to the sterile confines of a medical facility.
"As expected of a rich individual," he mused silently, looking at the carefully prepared space. In just a few short days, they had transformed this place into a fully equipped clinic that rivaled most hospital settings.
The resources and influence of his client truly knew no bounds. Closing his eyes, he took a deep, steadying breath, centering himself as he prepared to commence the second stage of the treatment.
With a mental command, his two hands began to undergo a grotesque transformation. The skin rippled and parted as if alive, revealing the elongating bones that branched outward like gnarled roots.
Countless slender tendrils emerged, writhing and undulating like serpents, extending from his palms to form a multitude of surgical instruments. His flesh was the perfect tool for his craft.
Immediately, he directed these appendages toward the anesthetized patient, guiding and directing them to infiltrate and penetrate his frame through tiny incisions, just wide enough to allow their entrance.
The delicate probes slipped beneath the surface, their movements precise and deliberate as they navigated through muscle and tissue, seeking out the lingering pockets of spiritual pollution that plagued the elderly gentleman.
Lynn's brow furrowed with concentration as he focused intently, his senses hyper-attuned to the faintest shift or disturbance. The flesh threads acted as extensions of his will, allowing him to map out precisely the anatomical landscape.
"First target located," he murmured, his pupils glimmering, locking on a clump of corrupted energy near the liver. Thin filaments coiled around the area without hesitation, isolating it from the surrounding flesh.
Then, with a subtle control, a scalpel-like tentacle outside the body made a careful cut in the abdomen, revealing the contaminated, necrotic network of veins and tissues illuminated by surgical light.
The sharp tendrils worked methodically, excising decayed tissue and carefully neutralizing spiritual toxins. Lynn ensured that no lingering corruption spread as he removed the tainted matter.
Following his sublimation, direct contact with the pollution at this level no longer affected him. The extracted chunks were swiftly enveloped by his appendages and stored within his inventory.
This delicate operation also necessitated repairing the damages already done. Activating [Cell Distortion] simultaneously permitted the mending of ruptures, reconnection of severed blood vessels, and stimulation of cell regeneration.
As tissue and flesh quickly multiplied and filled the gaps, the once corrupted and failing organ recovered to a state of healthy function. So, Lynn rapidly searched for a second target to eradicate.
The process repeated again and again. Each time, the movements became increasingly fluid and confident. However, unlike the previous session, the duration of this operation extended far longer than anticipated.
Partially because he could not afford a single mistake, the deeper he ventured into the vital organs, the greater the risks. A wrong move could destroy delicate structures and trigger internal bleeding, causing more trouble.
This constant growth in complexity weighed heavily on his mind and physique. Luckily, a long-awaited notification swiftly sounded in his ear, breaking through the tension and increasing his resilience.
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[Ding!]
[Class [Flesh Stitcher] +1 Level: +2 Attribute Point, +2 Skill Point].
[Your body has been strengthened: Constitution +2, Strength +1].
...
Finally, after several hours of painstaking work, the last vestiges of the spiritual pollution were removed, leaving the patient's internal system clean and functioning smoothly.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Lynn slowly withdrew the flesh tendrils, allowing his hands to reform. A profound silence settled over the room as he activated [Spiritual Vision] one last time.
His extraordinary senses detected no further trace of the malignant energy that had once held sway. Satisfied with the results, Lynn stepped away from the operating table and headed to the exit, wiping the sweat from his brow.
[Player: Wandering Doctor]
[Authority: E-Rank]
Class: [Flesh Stitcher lv12 (3%)]
Talent: [Gemini Soul]
Attributes:
[Strength 22] [Dexterity 25] [Constitution 25] [Intelligence 26] [Perception 24]
Class Skills: [Cell Distortion] [Spirit Threading] [Mimicry Heart]
General Skills: [Evaluation lv2] [Swordsmanship lv4] [Spiritual Vision lv2] [Quickstep lv3] [Meditation lv2] [First Aid lv1] [Marksmanship lv1] [Nature Affinity lv1] [Hypnosis lv1]
“The gain of experience considerably slowed down since the profession advancement,” Lynn pondered. This time, to level up just once, he had to dissect countless arachnid corpses, including their leader, and perform this surgical procedure.
He could not imagine what would be necessary in the future. Fortunately, leveling up was not the only way to increase his attributes. His gaze focused on the four new skills added to his arsenal, awarded for completing the second dungeon.
As he walked out, Lynn turned to the waiting, anxious Alfred and offered a subtle nod, his features showing a hint of confidence. "It's done," he announced, voice calm and assured. "The corruption has been fully eradicated."
The butler's eyes widened, profound relief washing over his weathered face. "Really?!" he exclaimed, breathing heavily, his hands shaking and trembling slightly. "The master is now free of that affliction?"
Lynn confirmed once more, his gaze drifting back to the slumbering patient. "Yes, his recovery should now progress unimpeded. The final stage is simply about giving his body the time to heal and regain its full vitality."
The man visibly sagged, a great weight lifted from his shoulders. "Thank you, Doctor," he murmured with thick emotion. "You have saved our master from a fate worse than death. We are forever in your debt."
Raising a hand, Lynn offered a reassuring gesture. "There is no need for gratitude. I merely did what was necessary to uphold my end of the bargain," he replied evenly. "However, there is one more thing."
"You need to gradually decrease the intake of previous medicine and drugs, especially the demon-suppressing pill, instead of stopping altogether..." he continued speaking, giving more advice and suggestions to accelerate the rehab until the last and final session in a few days.
Alfred accepted the recommendations with reverence, retrieving a pen and notepad from his pocket. "Absolutely, I shall see to it personally," he affirmed, his tone laced with unwavering determination.
Lynn watched as the butler carefully jotted down notes, his brow wrinkled in engagement. "Now, if you will excuse me, I must take my leave," he said, turning toward the exit. "I have other pressing matters to attend to."
The steward's head snapped up, a look of alarm crossing his expression. "So soon?" he blurted out, furrowing with dismay. "But surely you must rest after such an arduous procedure. At least wait until the master personally thank you."
Offering the butler a reassuring smile, Lynn shook his head slightly. "I appreciate your concern, but I assure you, I am quite well," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement, sensing the reluctance to let him leave.
"Besides, I have already spent more time here than originally planned. There are other obligations I must tend to." His eyes briefly drifted to the window next to them, where the distant outline of the abandoned district loomed faintly on the horizon.
The turmoil unfolding there piqued his curiosity—it could change his attitude on the Special Investigation Bureau. With a few hours left before the dungeon selection, he resolved to investigate the situation himself.
Feeling his resolve, Alfred let out a sigh before excusing himself. "In that case, please wait here for a moment. I need to prepare the reward we agreed on." Realizing he had nearly forgotten the reward, Lynn felt a sudden wave of embarrassment.
After a moment, he left the sprawling and expansive estate, casting one last glance at the opulent grounds before stepping into the darkness of the desolated streets, two briefcases in hand.
They contained the payment for his medical work, as well as the recipe for the demon-suppressing pill he asked for. When he was far enough, they rapidly disappeared, entering his inventory.
With the weight removed, his pace gradually quickened as he ventured toward the distant scene calling to him. Blending with the shadows, he transformed into a fleeting ghostly silhouette.