Chapter 3373: Miraculous Physician (Part 28)

Stark looked at the blast furnace in the lounge in a daze.

After two days of rest, he could already walk on the ground with difficulty. The operating room had been very busy recently, and there were quite a few patients staying in the inpatient room, so Stark moved to the lounge to continue recuperating.

But he didn't expect the scene in the lounge to be an opening shock. Good guy, I, Iron Man, haven't started iron smelting yet, how come you, a psychologist, have already set up a blast furnace?

"Can this thing really smelt it out?" Stark looked at the furnace and couldn't figure it out. He said, "Although theoretically it can, theoretically, this flame temperature definitely isn't enough..."

"Whether the flame temperature is enough or not, you will know if you try it." Schiller, who was standing behind him, said.

Stark was a bit hesitant, but it wasn't convenient for him to squat down, so he sat on the bed next to him, holding a long iron rod and reaching into the furnace to turn it over. When the bellows moved, he saw flames close to white.

"Not right, right? The structure of this thing clearly can't raise the flame temperature to this high. Is there a problem with the flame?"

This greatly stimulated Stark's interest. He would rather limp on one leg and lean over to study what was going on with this furnace.

Schiller gave him some ore and let Stark study it himself. In fact, he didn't understand the principle of the fireplace very well either.

Especially didn't understand why the fireplace would become particularly hot after a period of time, causing the lounge to be uninhabitable, but the efficiency of smelting minerals would rise.

He could only understand it as a gameplay allowed in the game, which was a reward prepared by them for innovative players like him.

Schiller didn't pay attention to Stark, because he now indeed had very important things to do. The most important thing was to realize his previous plan, which was to make patients sick and control their time of death.

However, this time it wasn't to prevent them from noticing anything wrong, but because he finally had to take action against that wooden man Wood.

In the past two days, Schiller had asked almost all the information about the outside world from Stark. The most important of which was the triage room he had been to twice.

Although the second time was when Steve sent him over, he didn't see anything, but he saw clearly the first time.

The other end of the channel was a room about the same size as the primary operating room. Half of it was an office with a glass window, and a wooden man with many arms sat inside.

One must queue in front of the glass window for initial examination and payment, then go to the lounge next to it to wait. After the name was called, walk to the other side of the glass window, where there was a whole wall of pipe entrances.

Wood would use long wooden arms to pick up patients and stuff them into certain pipes, letting them go to different operating rooms to receive treatment.

And the cured patients would also fall from the same pipe opening, be caught by Wood with his arms, and then be thrown out of the hospital from a window on the side.

That's right, the hospital really didn't have an inpatient department; patients left immediately after surgery and weren't allowed to stay. Even if you died right there after being discharged, no one cared.

The appearance of the hospital didn't look strange; it was a very ordinary residential house common in the Victorian era. However, perhaps because of the plague outbreak, there were many patients coming to see a doctor.

Some people wanted to make trouble, and Wood would pierce them through with those sharp wooden arms. Seeing that they couldn't afford to offend this wooden man, many people went to bully those weaker patients and occupy the queuing positions.

Some patients were weak but not that easy to bully; anyway, the outside was divided into several factions, fighting until blood flowed. When Stark entered for the first time, the floor and walls outside were all covered with blood that was too late to clean up. Many fresh corpses leaned against the corners, waiting to be thrown out by Wood.

Schiller didn't care at all who was right and who was wrong in the story background. He only knew that he was the most innocent one.

He was just an ordinary doctor in this game world. Even if his technical level was a bit poor and the cure rate was relatively low, he hadn't done anything bad.

It was fine to have money deducted by that damn Wood, being trapped in the room and unable to go out, and having to experience the pain of tooth extraction and tongue cutting in the dream. As a result, now someone even ran over to point fingers at him.

Schiller hadn't just practiced grappling; could he suffer this grievance?

So he planned to put his previous assumptions into practice, which was to precisely control the time when patients got sick, so that they would get sick when they returned to the triage room. This would greatly increase Wood's workload.

That wasn't all. This wooden man still had some skills. Ordinary patients might not be able to cause any harm to him even if they got sick, so they must be those extremely crazy diseases, combined with some magic damage that the wooden man feared.

Schiller chose werewolf virus, which was the disease that the mining area hero Nova had before. According to his observation, this disease, when it broke out, was somewhat similar to the extreme excitement symptoms of schizophrenic patients, both could ignore muscle limitations and attack all targets indiscriminately.

And people who were bitten were easily infected with the virus, the speed of onset was fast, and after the onset, they also attacked indiscriminately.

Although the patients were all flesh and blood and might not be able to beat the wooden man, if they could beat all the waiting patients to death, Wood wouldn't be able to collect the consultation fee. It was important for Schiller that he couldn't make money.

And not only couldn't make money, but also had to lose money. Schiller already knew that the one sitting in the waiting room outside was actually a wooden puppet. But the raven said this puppet was very expensive. The reward given by the Bear Caretaker for the puppet crystal confirmed this point.

As long as every patient could cause damage to the puppet, then accumulating it, it wouldn't take long for the puppet to be scrapped. Then Wood would have to change to a new puppet. Schiller didn't believe its inventory was endless. When the puppets were used up, see what he would do.

Physical damage alone wasn't enough. Schiller decided to give him some magic damage, such as pustules that could spray corrosive liquid, fungi that could produce hallucinogenic spores, and granulation buds that could spray flames. Any disease with such aggressive symptoms should come. The whole person was a super poison king, all die!

In order to cultivate these poison kings, Schiller occupied all the operating tables in the operating room and the beds in the inpatient room, and also placed quite a few on the ground. And precisely calculated their onset time. Just when the onset time of all poison seeds was almost the same, he sent the patients back along the channel.

Because he couldn't see the situation on that side, he could only judge by the faint sounds. Schiller's timing was very accurate. As soon as the patient landed, and before he had time to be thrown out, he was already sick, screaming and rushing out.

There was a mess on that side. Schiller heard a few screams; it seemed someone was bitten. Also heard the sound of heavy objects falling and some things whipping the ground; it should be Wood taking action.

Before the chaos on that side subsided, Schiller sent another one over. So the sound on that side became even louder.

Schiller just threw all the patients he had cultivated these days over. The sound on the opposite side sounded simply earth-shattering; it seemed that no matter how many arms that wooden man had, it would be very difficult to control the situation again.

Taking advantage of this opportunity, Schiller made an extremely bold move—he directly picked up the pliers and drilled into the pipe himself.

As soon as he lay in, he felt a warm wind blow over the back of his head. Immediately after, he floated in the channel, and then "swoosh" flew to the end of the pipe.

Didn't have time to think about what the principle was, Schiller landed and immediately looked around.

The triage room was in a mess. The floor, walls, and ceiling had been dyed completely dark red, and a layer of thick plasma floated everywhere. Because almost all the patients waiting in the room were dead, the wooden man with missing arms and legs in the middle of the room looked particularly conspicuous.

When seeing that smooth wooden head, Schiller almost reflexively rushed up and started smashing at the head. The remaining few legs of the wooden monster stabbed toward Schiller one after another. Schiller retreated to dodge and stood in the center of the room holding the pliers, looking at the wooden man.

"What are you going to do? You lunatic!!" Wood roared, "Why on earth do you have to keep pestering me?!"

"How much salary do you give me every day?" Schiller asked.

That wooden monster's movements stiffened for a moment; it was clearly stunned. It seemed that no matter how it calculated, it didn't calculate that Schiller would ask this question.

"Are you really crazy? Is there paste in your brain? Don't you know that the hospital's operating room is a shelter? Don't you know that I provide you with a safe house and still have to pay you?!"

"Since you said so, we have to calculate it properly," Schiller sneered and said, "Why did the plague break out?"

"Because... because..." Wood took a deep breath and said, "This is the fate they deserve."

"You said 'they', not 'us'. Right?" Schiller caught the loophole in his language and said, "Everyone staying in the operating room is innocent. It's Noah chosen by God, just to preserve the fire for humanity during the extinction flood."

"Since that's the case, it's only right for you to provide us with a shelter. But I think God didn't let us do high-intensity labor in the shelter without pay, right?"

"I... you..." Wood stammered for a long time, then said, "This is part of the sin and punishment they must experience. You are not only innocent people, but also executioners! This is what you should do!"

"If this is our obligation, then we should have corresponding power. What power do we have?"

"You can survive!"

"But if the plague didn't break out, we could have survived anyway."

"The plague is what they deserve!"

"But not us!"

Schiller took a step forward and said straightforwardly: "No matter how correct the doctrine you say is, I can not recognize this result; God cannot judge me."

"I could have survived anyway; it was the disaster you created that affected my quality of life. Making me do compulsory labor for you without pay. You yourself made a lot of money."

"This proves that no matter how correct the doctrine you say is, this matter is a business for you. Even if it happens to overlap with the route of a certain evil spirit's revenge, it cannot prove that you are not a bastard who exploits us."

"Now, give me the house, give me the money, and you fry two dishes for me before leaving!"

Wood was so angry that he waved his long wooden arms wildly, and the sharp, slender arms stabbed toward Schiller like arrows leaving the string.

Schiller dodged with a roll, and then took out something from behind—a torch ignited by the fireplace flame.

With a "whoosh," the violent flame burned. In the flame, a shadow stood up, and a monster made of white flames, two meters tall, appeared in the room.

Wood retreated a step in horror, just wanted to look at Schiller's figure, and found that he had drilled back into the original pipe and flew back to the operating room with a "swoosh."

(End of chapter) ===== CHAPTER 3374 =====

(End of chapter)