Chapter 1149: NO．54：Sorrow√⑧，it's true

NO．54：Sorrow√⑧，it's true

The infirmary of the β training field welcomed a late‑night client.

"No, what is he doing looking like that?"

Although he was an alien from another world, he had also thoroughly studied local medicine; the infirmary duty officer first examined the internal organ distribution of this male‑appearing human client before him.

There were no special organs invisible to ordinary sight.

In other words, this client was indeed a male human.

Moreover, that special life energy inside him was quite weak, indicating either his cultivation time was still short or his talent was abysmal; either way, he belonged to the worst‑bodied athlete the officer had ever received.

He was still rather special.

Not only because he was this weak, but also because, in his over‑a‑month medical record here, he was trying to sum up work experience, and his recent conclusion was that the weaker a human is, the less likely they are to suffer serious harm, whereas those who have achieved cultivation ascension, each time they are sent in from training, are always just half a step away from using their resurrection insurance.

It rather had a trend of the stronger, the more reckless.

However, practicing medicine requires rigor, and he still knew this phenomenon strictly speaking was because those ascended ones, the stronger their power, the more they pursued oppressive trials, but their physical fitness generally failed to keep up with their energy level.

So the real answer is that the ascended‑type clients he currently receives are too lopsided, not having first raised their HP to 40.

HP and MP are not proportional, defense isn't much higher either; this glass‑cannon type ought to be gradually eliminated by pragmatism as a heretical path.

But unfortunately, under the current subjective trend that methods always outnumber difficulties, relying on external force to compensate for the frail glass‑cannon ascended has instead become the mainstream.

After all, building muscle and training the body take too long to show results, and occasionally going to the hospital for adjustment is a major expense, forcing ordinary‑income ascended to unanimously choose shortcuts, and ordinary‑income ascended are precisely the majority of ascended society.

Such a social trend is naturally not something a mere transmigrant doctor can comment on; rather, his steadily improving work experience is entirely thanks to these clients, so he very much welcomes those glass cannons that occasionally crack.

Making money, no hesitation.

But what is this cracked glass without even a cannon?

"Emergency aid was quite timely; who handled it?"

"I, do I need to be transferred to the city hospital afterward?" a demon with a somewhat familiar‑looking head raised a claw, making the doctor's eyes twitch.

A hideous‑looking demon giving first aid to a frail human… he could hardly picture that scene, but indeed, if a demon practiced spellcraft, keeping someone alive was not difficult; however, the obvious drug traces and adhesive‑bond marks in this body……

"Are you also a doctor?"

"No," the demon shook his head, "I just brought an emergency kit."

"Oh, that's a good habit," the doctor nodded, "all right, although the serious injury looks okay on examination, there's no need to transfer to the city hospital—I can clean up his bone fragments on the spot, the lung‑alveolar issues and capillary ruptures are minor, and as for those bruises on the surface… don't go overboard in training next time."

"Okay, okay." The brown‑haired horse girl beside the demon nodded awkwardly, and the black‑haired horse girl's expression also became embarrassed.

This instead made the doctor furrow his single‑digit eyebrows, recalling some bizarre posts he'd seen only on staff‑exchange forums; looking at the wounded's gaze, it instantly turned sharp.

Coma, bruises, at a glance it was vascular rupture and comminuted fracture from extreme sports, midnight……

"Please let me say something, everyone… the training field isn't a place to seek thrills," the doctor said earnestly, with the little goodwill he had, "young people's pursuit of this is understandable, but the training field will always have backup records."

"Huh?" the brown‑haired horse girl didn't quite understand.

"…Um…" the black‑haired horse girl, whose expression had turned weird, clearly understood; but instead of arguing, her instinctive reaction was to glance at the demon beside the brown‑haired horse girl, then look elsewhere, her face showing a hint of unnaturalness.

As for that demon, he completely lived up to his race's stereotypical image of being worldly and knowledgeable; his ferocious face showed no change in expression, only the black flames leaking from his eye sockets swayed left and right a bit.

"You've misunderstood, Doctor," he denied frankly and calmly, "we just ran a lap of the long‑distance track."

"Ah?" Now it was the doctor's turn to be stunned; he instinctively turned his head to look at the man on the hospital bed.

Running together with the horse girls and the demon?

He'd only been here a month and didn't know many horse girls, but he felt this wasn't just a matter of knowing a few people—this man… no… what on earth were these people doing?

The demon shouldn't be running with the horse girls, right?!

"Just as you said," the demon, seeming to read something from the doctor's non‑human but expressive face, interrupted him before he could speak, "there are training records; if someone wanted to investigate, they could still see them, but please focus on treating him for now."

"…Mm, okay."

Still unable to comprehend this group, the night‑shift doctor seemed to come to his senses, realizing his earlier mistaken suspicion of others was embarrassing; he completed the treatment with astonishing efficiency, then withdrew from the ward with a rather hesitant apology.

"Although it's only a minor injury, there can't be a next time, especially not involving him again."

From the dissipating magic emerged a black‑haired youthful demon, who raised a hand to conjure a magic claw, then picked up a cup and fetched water from the dispenser.

"Mm." The brown‑haired girl replied softly.

"And after he wakes up, you also need to apologize and make amends, Miss Dazhenhan," Aomo said, placing the cup beside the bed, "Of course, I also have my share to bear, Bai Ren, you too."

"Uh, okay, no problem."

Admitting fault is only natural; Chengtian Bai Ren isn't stubborn about it either.

But in the end he couldn't help complaining:

"I always thought Xī Qī had decent coordination, so how did he end up falling like that in the back?"

"Hmm… the trainer usually isn't lacking in exercise either, and he has his dance practice segment," Dazhenhan also said.

But the fact is so.

With the Immovable Blessing on the training field running at full power, it could be said that Xi Qi Feng was completely shielded from any wind pressure, air currents, or even seismic waves from the horse girls' running, and he fell even further behind, meaning he should have been utterly safe, yet he still collapsed to the ground.

With momentum almost catching up to when Chao Cang Lu tumbled, the demon's braked teleport again served as an emergency responder, while the two horse girls, having run far ahead, completely failed to notice what happened behind them.

That's why those two just now appeared so apologetic.

Although it wasn't directly his fault, the other party's oversight when the accident occurred was still a major mistake.

Regarding that, Aomo merely looked at his sleeping face, which seemed to be dreaming of something awful, lost in thought.

"It must be because… he really was trying to run to achieve a result."

"Eh?" Dazhenhan didn't understand.

"?" Chengtian Bai Ren was even more puzzled.

And Aomo's expression became even more subtle.

"He's been cultivating source energy lately, but hasn't had time to test the results, and this training field gave him a relatively safe testing environment."

"Moreover, having an acquaintance present makes a motive possible."

"Motivation?"

"Want to show off in front of acquaintances."

"Is your trainer a child?"

"Bai Ren turned their head to look at Dazhenhan, while Dazhenhan silently turned their head away."

"To Xi Qi trainer, this was undoubtedly a kind of sorrow, Aomo thought."

"Although they said this was merely a possible motive, the two horse girls, as old friends, both believed it without prior agreement."