Chapter 1702 - 873: When Disaster Strikes, Aid Comes from All Sides (Part 2)

From the split in his abdomen, ash-gray shadow-flames suddenly surged up, in an instant incinerating the alienated viscera, wrapping around the wound; with the external medicine replenishing it, the nearly burnt-out rebirth form abruptly flared back to life and began to reconstitute itself.

Satria's body swelled as if being inflated, regaining the burly, formidable shape of the past, only his face was bloodless, his expression twitching, and scarlet welled up in those emerald eyes.

A cracking sound clattered forth, the brittle noise of teeth being ground to fragments under rage and pain.

At the very instant the salve was used up, that fully restored body suddenly spasmed, and right on its heels, the mended wound actually burst open again!

Three strands of blood-red breath sprayed out from within, a hair-raising screech sounded out of thin air, the repaired viscera once more alienating; in the squirming of flesh and blood, one after another bizarre eye like a fox's opened and closed.

In a blink, the vanished injury reappeared, as if he had once again been cut in two at the waist.

The fierce Mutant that could not be driven off grew only more violent, like a malignant ulcer clinging to the bone.

Himawan's fingers gave a tremor; he almost couldn't steady the copper pot, subconsciously taking a step back. From behind the curtain that had once more fallen came pained gasps and faint wails, even hoarse curses.

He did not dare listen; only cold sweat seeped from his brow, bead after bead, impossible to restrain.

As though plunged into an ice cavern.

In the past, even when someone suffered grievous wounds, a dose of this salve could piece a shattered body back together; yet now, this method that had once been a cure-all had already lost its efficacy.

If this continued… merely thinking of the consequences was enough to make him feel suffocated.

Until, in the dim room, a copper Mirror suddenly lit up; a human silhouette surfaced within, then actually broke through the mirror's surface and strode in openly.

"Who!"

The green eyes behind the curtain were like a Wolf's, snapping over in an instant, vicious and violent, ready to devour.

"Lord Satria, it's been a long time."

The visitor removed his top hat; on his aged face he wore a gentle smile, like some old man still going out to support his family as a door-to-door salesman.

Satria stared at the newcomer for a long while. "...Meng Fengzuo?"

"Thank you for your concern, it is indeed I,"

The emissary from East City took off his hat and bowed, his etiquette impeccable. "Mr. Han heard that you were injured, and specifically had me invite a famed physician to treat you.

The Iron Hook District and East City have always been on good terms. Since Mr. Satria was injured over East City's affairs, then East City naturally cannot shirk responsibility."

He paused, then asked, "I only don't know whether right now… is convenient?"

Satria said nothing, watching him for a long time, then suddenly gave a cold, low laugh. "Since you're already here, then take a look. It will also set Mr. Han's mind at ease."

So Meng Fengzuo turned back and glanced at the Mirror behind him. A stubbled man carrying a bucket of water staggered out, and the moment his feet hit the floor he was dizzy and started retching violently, making an utter mess.

Just as Himawan was frowning, the still-vomiting doctor casually wiped his mouth with his sleeve, then directly lifted the curtain and sauntered in.

He ignored Satria's icy gaze and went straight to examining his wound.

"Mm? So that's how it is. Truly strange, truly bizarre..."

He simply reached out, grabbed a pair of forceps, and poked at Satria's wound, as though unable to feel the killing intent so close at hand, muttering to himself,

"You used Blood Fried? The purity's barely passable. What age is this, and you're still using a pot to boil it?

You used the wrong medicine; it's useless.

Your problem is less the injury itself and more pollution and Curse. If those aren't eradicated, no matter how much life the Blood Fried supplements, it's just pouring oil on the fire, and things will only get worse.

What Disaster Beast did you provoke? No, in the Disaster Beast's transformations there's something else mixed in. This taste… a qualitative change I've never seen? How did these fuse together, strange, strange..."

He pried at Satria's wound, mumbling to himself, scratching his head as he spoke, not caring in the least as dandruff flew everywhere.

Just before Satria's rage could completely spiral out of control, Meng Fengzuo spoke first, cutting off the doctor's research: "Can you resolve it?"

"Resolve it? Mm, that's actually simple."

The stubbled doctor glanced back at him. "There aren't many house calls left in our contract. For this kind of problem, someone else should be able to manage too. You're sure you want me to treat him?

Let's be clear in advance: even if I don't treat him, it still counts as half a house call."

Meng Fengzuo nodded with a smile.

Then the doctor looked toward Satria and suddenly asked, "How do you want to treat it?"

Satria was taken aback, his brows knitting. "Just cure it, isn't that enough? How else would you treat it?"

"..."

The doctor opened his mouth as if to speak, but choked on the words, then sighed helplessly. "This is why talking to you laymen is such a chore.

How about this: do you want to nurse it slowly, or do you want it done as fast as possible? All right, say no more, one look at you and I know you're not the 'health cultivation' type… Here's what we'll do—you, hold him down for me."

The last sentence was addressed to Meng Fengzuo.

Meng Fengzuo nodded with a smile, and the doctor bent down, scooped up his bucket, and gave a whistle. Several writhing things crawled out of the bucket, slithering like snakes as they wound forward and burrowed into Satria's wound.

Leeches?

Without the slightest warning, Satria's expression changed drastically, his body convulsing against his will; under an agony unlike anything he had ever known, his instincts drove him to explode into motion.

Meng Fengzuo had already raised his hand. In the void, Mirrors refracted Illusion Light like manacles, shackling Satria in place; even his shrill screams were completely cut off.

All that could be seen was him trembling, convulsing, spasming, writhing and roaring as though enduring the cruelest ravaging in the world, the skin all over his body splitting open as blood seeped out.