Chapter 362: Intracranial Hypertension

No one likes to be disturbed while concentrating on a task, and Kraft was no exception.

The status that rose with his fame had once granted him the right to be willful, allowing him to refuse meaningless time-wasting demands without regard for consequences; after all, others would automatically interpret this as the common aloofness and academic obsession of ivory tower scholars.

A medical school professor in the Woodblock print stereotype should spend six and a half days a week in the laboratory fiddling with either bloody or bizarre things, and spend the remaining half-day squatting outside the cemetery with a shovel and a sack, so it was only reasonable that he did not wish to see people.

Many tried to change this impression, only to helplessly discover that some peers and their own behavior indeed roughly matched this, and finally they submitted and accepted the small conveniences brought by the stereotype.

Unfortunately, after taking over the monastery, Kraft lost this right. Official duties would not decide whether to come based on stereotypes, and he had not yet lost the last shred of conscience before dumping all trivial matters on subordinates.

When Kup pushed open the laboratory door, he had just finished fiddling with that pile of preliminarily sorted bone fragments; after thoroughly washing and changing clothes, he sat down unwillingly to review documents.

They were mainly contents regarding reimbursement for monastery repairs; heaven knows how many safety issues requiring urgent handling this building had accumulated over twenty years, and how many hidden dangers lurking in the dark remained undiscovered.

The construction material reserves of the Priyel fief had been entirely replaced by coins from the Baron's treasury; after all, there was no need to keep such things in that wooden wall fortress, and if a worst-case scenario occurred, one could simply flee up the mountain to seek refuge. No doubt, the monastery had an obligation to generously shelter the believers of the Heavenly Father—after they paid generous donations.

Reading and memorizing monetary data was not difficult, but the speed of approval remained slow. His mind was still stuck on the strange structure of those bone fragments, processing text and calculations with the scraps of his thoughts.

Judging by their appearance, the bone fragments indeed originated from the human body, possessing recognizable bony structures; even Kup could identify obvious femoral necks and expanded iliac bones, which could only belong to a two-legged upright walking creature.

Some things that might be clavicles, mandibles, or even surviving molars further proved that the upper body of the remains also had a normal human structure.

At least Kraft could conservatively say: excluding unnatural factors, there was an eighty percent probability it was a person, and an adult at that.

However, the problem arose: the internal structure of these bones was unreasonable.

Their cortical bone was too thin, so thin that it gave the illusion of being breakable by a mere puff, transparent enough to approach a jade-like quality; placed under sunlight, the outline of pigment spots on the back could be seen.

Although careful testing revealed that their strength before death might not be inferior to normal bone quality, the insufficient thickness greatly weakened toughness and energy absorption, making bone cracks and fractures more likely in the long run; at the same time, the function of protecting internal structures was also relatively limited, which might be bad news for soft tissues like bone marrow and cancellous bone.

For such a harsh environment, the cancellous bone had not undergone compensatory hyperplasia; instead, it seemed to attempt to handle it through structural optimization rather than by piling up material.

Compared to the conventional form lying between a honeycomb and foam, it presented a three-dimensional honeycomb structure with larger and more regular Kong Dong, a geometric beauty rarely seen in living beings.

It achieved similar functions with less bone quality, exhibiting outstanding technicality and extremely high cost-performance, possessing a beauty akin to "two kidneys are too many, better to optimize one away and save some blood flow."

【Bro thinks he's playing Bridge Engineer?】

Saving a little where possible is a mindset suitable only for simulation games where passing the level is enough, not for real-world engineering.

A structure with no redundancy is very exquisite, but in the long run, the drawbacks outweigh the benefits.

Overall, aside from saving materials, it had little significance; if one had to say something, it reduced weight, which might give people the illusion of being "light as a swallow."

If called an abnormal phenomenon, compared to the various exaggerated deformities and mutations seen before, this was hardly worthy of the table.

If not for the coincidence of the location, it might be more reasonable to explain it as a rare congenital bone development abnormality.

He did not understand the purpose of this change; continuing to ponder deeply would achieve nothing, so it was better to do some paperwork.

But now it seemed there would be no chance to handle the paperwork either.

"Mr. Kraft..." Kup did not even knock, rushing into the laboratory.

With the mindset of awaiting judgment, Kraft tilted his head and glared at him, hoping it was not some time-consuming trouble.

This obviously brought considerable pressure; the latter knew very well that what he was about to say would completely destroy the professor's schedule, but he knew even better what should be said at this moment.

"There is a patient."

"Fine."

It was not necessarily a bad thing; at least it provided an excuse to throw himself into his professional duties instead of being trapped in official documents.

Kraft jumped up quickly from behind the desk, dragging Kup in a small run towards the reception hall, as if being a moment slower would cause him to be dragged back by the pile of reimbursement forms and stuck to the chair.

The patient's identity was as expected yet somewhat surprising.

One was the overturned monk, the one who looked more honest of the two; if he remembered correctly, his name was Dominic, tied up tightly, with traces of vomiting remaining at the corner of his mouth, and his mental state was somewhat blurred.

Field held him down but dared not use too much force, so he could only let him struggle occasionally.

The other was relatively unfamiliar, a teenager still in puberty, guarded by a middle-aged man with a somewhat similar facial contour.

He appeared to be in much better condition than Dominic, but his eyes were equally wandering, as if attracted by something, drifting and unstable.

"What is the situation?" Kraft glanced at the two men's complexions and breathing, then casually took their pulses; their vital signs were slightly abnormal but not immediately fatal. "Do not panic; the time for the Gates of Heaven to open for them has not yet arrived."

"Sorry, we..."

"Get to the point; the rest can be discussed later." He could guess that during the few days the work report was interrupted, the two had absolutely not stayed honestly in the manor.

But he did not want to hear confessions of guilt or rich psychological activity processes; he wanted to hear the disease progression.

"It's a long story..."

"Get to the highlights. Everyone else leave; Kup, you stay."

Possibly due to the recent struggling and vomiting, Dominic's breathing was rapid and irregular, but his pulse did not seem that fast, at least not matching the state after intense activity.

Around his mouth, at the collar, and on his chest were traces of stomach acid repeatedly drying, with a sour smell hitting the nose.

Kraft frowned; perhaps this expression was interpreted as impatience and disgust. Field and the middle-aged man both looked as if they did not know where to start, opening their mouths but then falling silent with high synchronization, looking at each other.

"Did he vomit severely? I mean that kind of obviously abnormal, projectile vomiting like a water gate opening, without warning. Is that right?"

The teenager was okay, but Dominic's condition only gave a premonition of a coming storm; the situation could turn dire at any moment.

"And severe headache?"

Lifting the messy, clumped hair, the scalp showed only minor abrasions; no signs of severe impact were seen, ruling out external trauma.

Kraft saw both men nod in unison with a mix of relief and misfortune; a bit more trust appeared in the middle-aged man's eyes.

He felt a darkness before his eyes; he had guessed correctly. Headache, projectile vomiting, slow pulse, abnormal breathing.

Lifting the hand that had taken the pulse, he saw the fingers were also not right; several were fractured, but compared to the key issue, this was nothing.

【Intracranial Hypertension】

It was not caused by traumatic hematoma occupying space. Thinking about it made sense; if it could bring this after so many days, it was not like a surgical emergency. That was why it was even more troublesome; it could not be solved by the risky procedure of opening the skull to clear the hematoma.

Cerebral edema? Or some other occupying lesion?

Kraft suddenly lost the courage to use his spiritual senses to peek inside; he waved his hand wearily, transitioning from emergency rescue to the family discussion stage, signaling the two to sit down.

The Gates of Heaven indeed had not yet opened, but Dominic's transfer application was probably already delivered before the Throne of the Heavenly Father, waiting only for a stroke of the pen to casually approve a complication and report directly.

"Let's start from the beginning."

Since there's no other way, why not listen to what it's about? Maybe it'll give us some insight.

(End of Chapter)