Dusk.
The blood-red sunset had already sunk, leaving only the dying embers of twilight. Night fell, and stars and the moon arrived on schedule with the boundless curtain of darkness.
Grayish-white, gloomy fog rose and swirled, mingling with goose-feather-like heavy snow that enveloped the entire block.
For a moment, the world was left with nothing but the howling, dancing gray and white.
Among the many dark and silent shops, only one inconspicuous little clinic remained lit… seemingly open around the clock.
A girl in a white doctor's coat sat slouched by the window.
Her amber-like, deep golden eyes, reflected in the dim lamplight, gazed unfocused at the chaotic wind and snow outside, appearing serene and tranquil, like a painting.
…The drifting snowflakes always stirred memories of the past.
Fran rubbed her temples, unable to suppress the fragments of the past that surfaced in her mind.
Back then, she hadn't yet come to Norlington, this old remnant city teeming with lurking horrors, as precarious as a stack of eggs…
——
The year she arrived here, Fran was probably twenty-four, still a normal eight-year direct-entry medical doctoral student.
Before she was "recruited" by a "system" that took the form of a misty cloud to be a doctor here, she used another name, and wasn't even a girl.
"Fran" was a fake name she casually picked upon first arriving, inspired by a famous sci-fi creation… but this name had been used for so long that it gradually became indistinguishable from her real name.
Given that she had adapted to and become familiar with her current name and identity, her previous name wasn't important anymore, not worth mentioning.
What should be noted is that Fran's personality is somewhat unique… eccentric might be an apt description.
Her professional skills were top-notch, considered outstanding among her clinical medicine peers. She seemed to have an innate enthusiasm for dense nerves, tangled bones and blood, and pulsating organs.
Things that would cause physiological discomfort for the vast majority of people were like sweet nectar to her, even a source of joy… so much so that her supervising mentor regarded her as the highlight of his teaching career.
But at the same time, this individual possessed a baffling and often ill-timed sense of humor.
For instance, she could perform organ repositioning while smiling and telling interesting anecdotes to those around her, most of which were quite fitting.
"A healthy intestine can reposition itself after being taken out and put back in. The human body, quite amazing, right…"
Fran didn't lack friends, nor did she lack people who saw her as an oddity. But she didn't really care about these things; she just found them bothersome… To her, managing unnecessary interpersonal relationships was tedious and uninteresting.
Compared to the dull but pure pursuit of academia, sometimes a middle-aged superior full of nonsense was far more detestable.
This was also why people often said to graduates wanting to study medicine, "Silly child, run away!"…
And practicing medicine casually in this clinic on Fog Street, occasionally conducting little experiments with patients, occasionally being hunted as a heretic by hunters from certain cults… in a sense, this also "liberated" her "nature."
Monsters called Evil Spawn, heterodox cults devout in blood sacrifice, diseases and deaths everywhere… sigh… Surviving daily in the crevices between these things made her feel the fullness of life more and more.
——
[Dear Dr. Fran, this month's monthly house call has been triggered. The patient is 'Haida Moira,' a Burial Attendant of the 'Secrets-Hunter Cult.' Please begin treatment promptly. The target is expected to die within 10 minutes.]
"A job now? Really? Torturing your doctor, is that it?"
A pale, slender hand pushed the clinic door open from the inside against the wind and snow, and Fran stepped into the snow-swept street.
Carrying her medical kit, she rubbed her slightly dark-circled eyes with fingers covered in suture marks.
"Sigh… Can't quit anyway, might as well muddle through."
She let out a lazy sigh, her figure gradually swallowed by the snowy mist.
——
Wanton, leaping flesh, madly dancing tentacles, blazing flames burning amidst the wind and snow, still unextinguished…
A once-ordinary snowy night alley had now transformed into a living hell.
Haida stood amidst a pile of enemy and non-human Evil Spawn corpses, silently and mechanically pulling the trigger of her pistol.
Her wide, black nun's habit fluttered and settled, revealing a slender waist and the form-fitting leather armor beneath.
The muzzle flash swept past her deep chestnut eyes, also illuminating the frenzied, twisted faces of the surrounding enemies.
The momentary light extinguished, and everything was instantly swallowed again by the tide of darkness.
Those laughing maniacally faces and convulsing, writhing flesh were instantly shattered under the impact of steel-cored bullets, raining down minced meat and blood.
In just one encounter, Haida once again emptied her magazine, completing a systematic elimination of all targets in her sight.
Clink, clink, clink.
Spent shell casings fell to the ground, producing a pleasant, crisp sound, like plucked harp strings.
With a flick of her nun's habit, the two large-caliber pistols were already holstered at her waist. In their place, each hand now held an antique-patterned, wooden-handled switchblade.
Besides the scattered brass shell casings on the ground, there were also numerous discarded spare magazines.
The ones she had just fired were the last set of bullets, meaning… now was the final moment for close-quarters combat.
"Five Evil Spawn left…"
The two switchblades became interweaving flashes of cold light in her hands. Two enemies whose upper bodies had completely transformed into tentacles were sliced into neat, square chunks under this lethal cutting, falling into the accumulated filth and blood on the ground with wet slaps.
"Three."
Haida's breathing was ragged, making her count sound somewhat muffled.
This was the third time she felt exhaustion; her body was truly on the verge of collapse.
With a flick of her wrists, the two switchblades flew from her hands, cutting through the air with a tearing sound before accurately hitting the foreheads of two enemies head-on.
The blades cleaved straight through the tough frontal bone, deep into the brain.
"One left…"
Just then, an Evil Spawn that had been lurking in the shadows on the ground suddenly revealed itself, pouncing on Haida and pinning her in the filth and blood.
It had completely lost its human form, its skin entirely covered in tentacles, a foul breath assaulting her face.
Crushed by this immense force, her ribs groaned under the pressure, emitting several crisp cracking sounds.
In an instant, this Evil Spawn had brought its hook-toothed, monstrous maw close to her carotid artery.
But Haida was faster!
As the creature extended its maw, she had already reached out with her dominant hand and seized its neck. The force was so great that her fingers dug deep into the muscles beneath the tentacles, her nails embedding into the spine.
"With the blood of the hunt, I swear the oath of the chase. Die with me—in hell, I will continue to kill you!"
As the short prayer left her lips, an injection device pressed against Haida's spine, embedded in her leather armor, shot forward, driving a vial of medicinal solution into her body.
The well-defined, tight muscles on her arm bulged with snake-like veins.
The next moment, the spine of this Evil Spawn, along with its head, was ripped out entirely, trailing a network of nerves and blood vessels.
"Hoo—"
She tossed the pale, extracted spine aside like garbage. Exhaling a puff of white mist as if in relief, she then began to cough violently.
Crimson blood quietly seeped from several penetrating wounds on her chest, soaking her nun's habit and form-fitting leather armor, seemingly impossible to stop.
"Cough, cough. Looks like… this is where it ends… Really, a bit unwilling…"
Her body had long been pushed to its limit. Now lying prostrate amidst the pile of corpses and filth, she couldn't even get up.
Her organs were failing uncontrollably, her muscles nearly dissolving frantically.
Overdriving her body made her more brutal and frenzied than the cults' terrifying abominations during the fight, while still ensuring every movement was as precise and perfect as machinery.
But after the cellular revelry of overload ended, this battered, frail body would also face decay and death. The final medicinal injection only accelerated this process of disintegration.
Even though Haida had honed her body day and night like tempering a blade, compared to these horrifying Evil Spawn worshiped by the cults, this mortal shell still deserved the word "frail."
She felt her consciousness gradually disintegrating, a deep cold penetrating her limbs and bones, her vision sinking into darkness along with it.
Just before she completely lost consciousness to shock, she vaguely saw a slender figure in white gradually approaching her.
"Good evening, Sister. What a coincidence, you're also working the night shift? Interested in some social welfare treatment? No medical insurance involved, you know?"
"Hey, hey, hey, if you don't say anything, I'll take it as consent, alright?"
…
Fran looked at the surroundings—corpses shattered beyond biological recognition, splattered dark blood plasma everywhere, and scattered, shattered walls—and raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Clerics these days are getting more and more hardcore… not only working night shifts but also in hazardous jobs. Wonder if the cult reimburses work-related injuries."
She muttered an ambiguous complaint, then bent down to carefully observe the patient's specific condition.
Punctured organ damage, large-scale muscle injury, ribs pretty much shattered… oh, she even has adrenaline poisoning…
After reaching a preliminary conclusion, she opened her portable medical kit, took out a handheld circular saw, and skillfully fitted it with a steel saw blade.
As the saw blade began to rotate at high speed with a rumbling noise, Fran gradually brought the circular saw closer to Haida's chest.
A muffled cutting sound rang out… Haida's nun's habit and form-fitting leather armor were split in two accordingly, revealing her blood-stained chest.
Although the process was a bit terrifying, this was the fastest way to expose the wounds. She certainly didn't have the leisure to undo buttons one by one.
"Oh, this Sister is built solid with muscle all over…"
Even mentally prepared, Fran couldn't help but be immediately captivated by Haida's classically aesthetic musculature.
Lustrous skin, well-defined and orderly abs, an impeccable waist-to-hip ratio, perfect linea alba…
A flawless human physique, a shame not to palpate it… but wasting any more time now, this dying sister would truly perish.
Fran skillfully put on gloves, a round scalpel appearing between her fingers without her noticing. She then took out a row of medicinal preparations of unknown names from her medical kit, arranging them in order.
"Hard to handle too much in this snow. First aid first, surgery can wait until we're back.
"Next up, content unsuitable for minors…"
——
Fog Street Clinic.
Morning light streaming through the window fell on Haida's face. She frowned slightly, feeling a bit dazzled.
And for some reason, a strange sensation came from her abdomen, like the gentle stroking of fingertips.
Wait, where is this? I'm not dead?
The hazy sleepiness shrouding her thoughts dissipated like smoke. Rationality seized the high ground in an instant.
The moment she opened her eyes, she had already locked onto the person in front of her. With blinding speed, she reached out and seized the other's neck.
The neck felt soft and delicate, making Haida hesitate to apply force immediately.
"Who are you? And where is this?"
Her inquiry was calm and curt, not overly hostile, yet carrying an undeniable coercion.
"You can call me Fran. I'm the doctor at this clinic. Hmm… you are currently in Norlington City, North District 13, Fog Street Clinic."
The speaker was a young girl in a white doctor's coat.
This doctor had pale white long hair reaching her waist, with some delicate braids at the temples, and eyes the deep golden color of amber.
Without exaggeration, she was beautiful… but the suture marks on her neck and fingers ruined this beauty, instead adding a touch of the eerie.
"…How did I get here?"
⸻
T/N: Hey readers~! New Translator here! Before I say anything, I'd first like to thank the original author for creating this wonderful story. Without them, I wouldn't have the chance to share this adventure with you. I hope my translation does justice to their work, and that together, we can enjoy this story.
With that said, I'm happy to let you know I'll be uploading daily chapters. And for those who wish to support my work and gain early access, I've set up a Patreon where advanced chapters will be available.
[email protected]/PeakTL