The flames of candles on the brass candlesticks kept flashing, adding a bit of weirdness to the already dim room. Two slender black figures stood in front of the operating table, as if they were performing some mysterious sacrificial ritual. If they were close enough, they could still hear slight murmuring.
"I said, man, we really can't continue like this anymore." One of the voices said, "You have to let me see what the effect of successfully curing a patient is, right?"
"Do you think it's up to me?" said another voice. "It's a two-player game, and the other person can't just stand there and talk sarcastic words, right?"
"When did I just stand there and talk sarcastic?"
"The problem is that you might as well just stand there and say sarcastic words!"
"I think our top priority now is to at least cure a patient to prove that this is an operating room, not a morgue."
"The first priority now is to prove that this is an operating room, not a canteen!"
"Then didn't you eat it too?"
“I had surgery until two in the morning and I only had a tuna sandwich for dinner.”
Schiller put one hand on his hips and pressed the other on the beak of the mask, and then said, "Okay, it's too early to argue. This game cannot just let us repeat the process of treating patients. There must be some other gameplay, so we have to hurry up and pass the first level."
Strange also sighed and said, "We have made three rules. The next patient has arrived. We must do our best to treat it to ensure that there is no problem, okay?"
Schiller nodded, agreeing.
He pulled down the pull rod and this time two copper coins fell out. Schiller put the coins into his pocket, but the next one fell out was not the patient, but a wrinkled piece of rag.
Schiller picked up the cloth and found that there were black coal ash rubbing on it, and there were some red blood stains. But judging from the drying of blood, it was not like human blood, but more likely to be the blood of birds.
"Hello, I am Mr. Raven. Do you want to order newspapers? One copper coin can be ordered, and you can order morning and evening newspapers every day. This is your best choice for understanding the world."
Strange also saw the line of words and said, "Sure enough, this world is not that simple. Are you finally going to explain the background story?"
"We only have four dollars now," Schiller said, "but you can try to subscribe to a newspaper and see what information is on it."
“How do we pay?”
Schiller thought for a while, took out a copper coin from his pocket, put it into the passage, and closed the gate. He heard a slight sound of the copper coin slipping down, followed by two ravens.
Schiller knocked on the door of the metal passage and said, "Give me a morning newspaper, thank you."
Schiller originally thought that newspapers would come through metal passages, but unexpectedly, a small window above the wall of the room opened, and a large black raven flew to the window and threw a rolled newspaper in.
Schiller looked up at the window. The window was too high, even if he stretched out his hand, he could not reach it. And it was pitch black outside and nothing could be seen. The window was too small for adults to pass through. It seemed that it was impossible to escape from the window.
Schiller walked up to pick up the newspaper. The newspaper was also written in Latin, and it was a little difficult to read. Schiller handed the newspaper to Strange and said, "You read it first, I'll go and see if the nurse is here."
Strange walked to the chair next to the fireplace and sat down, and began to read the newspaper. Schiller came to the door.
The door can be opened and the corridor can be entered, but Schiller found that he would fall into complete darkness as long as he left the door within one meter of the door. Even with a candle, it was obvious that the area in front was not allowed to be explored.
But something strange is that the body of the man who had fallen by the wall was gone. I don’t know if he was carried away by the nurse or disappeared out of thin air.
Schiller was a little sorry: "If there is a reward for treating the disease here, then the man might have rich. He should have touched the body earlier."
Back in the operating room, Strange had finished reading the newspaper at an amazing reading speed. He summarized it briefly and said: "It should be the Victorian mixed steampunk magic worldview. Our location is a place called Magic Town, located in the south of a certain country. Now a large-scale plague broke out here, and the entire area was blocked."
"It's not the background of the Black Death, is it?" Schiller took a light breath, "This time he has really become a traditional Western medicine."
"I'm afraid it's," Strange said, "and it may have been a combination of several plague outbreaks in Europe, otherwise there wouldn't be so many patients in a day."
"No wonder so many patients died, and no one came to find us two." Schiller said, "It was strange that the medical level of the Black Death era could not be cured."
"Although it's an ancient background, we two are modern doctors," Strange stressed, "we can't be with those quacks."
Schiller waved his hand and signaled that he knew. He fetched a bucket of water from the sink, began to clean the still, and said, "Give us a chance to understand the world situation, definitely not just to understand the situation. Maybe we can influence the world situation by choosing who to cure."
"I'm afraid the world situation is already a mess now." Strange was also scrubbing his scalpel, saying, "Who do you think Mr. Raven is the one who asked us to subscribe to the newspaper? The boss of the hospital?"
"I'm afraid the opposite is true," said Schiller. "The cloth was stained with blood, which means he did not come in normally. It also means that there are guards at the reception desk on the other end of the passage, and only by the consent of the people there will be patients being sent to us."
"Since the hospital is opened, we have to cure several people, otherwise it will seem too useless." Strange said. "Even if the chances of curing in other hospitals are not high, we can't go too far."
"Look, things are probably not that simple."
After almost finished packing, Schiller pulled down the lever again. This time the person who fell down was a dark-skinned woman. She was much taller than a human, about two meters tall, and she didn't have much fabric on her body, and she looked a little ragged.
Strange put on gloves, first opened the woman's eyelids and saw a pair of blue eyes. The vitreous body was a little cloudy, which means she had not had a good rest recently.
Immediately afterwards, my limbs were examined, and no symptoms of hollowing were found, no extra tentacles and granulation, nor any hardening.
The woman also had no symptoms of coughing up blood or skin disease. The only problem was that there was a big hole in her abdomen, which looked like she was injured by a sharp weapon. As soon as the rag wrapped around it was taken off, Strange couldn't help but frown.
This wound was obviously not what had just appeared, and it had to be at least three or four days old. The infection was very serious. The entire wound was swollen, and pus continued to flow out, and fluid was already accumulated in the abdominal cavity.
Since the other party is not a human, Strange could not tell whether her body temperature was normal, but according to human standards, it was relatively high, about 40 degrees. It may be caused by high fever and coma caused by infection.
Strange reached out and pressed the wound gently. The woman did not react, but the abdominal muscles twitched instinctively. But Strange looked at the black powder stuck to the fingertips and frowned deeper.
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Strange stood up and gave Schiller a look.
Schiller walked up to pat the woman's face, and said, "Do you still have consciousness? Wake up..."
Schiller also raised his head and shook his head at Strange. Strange sighed and said, "The wound is infected too much. They may have used some local herbs, but it has no effect except aggravated the infection."
“How to say it?”
"Cleaning first."
Schiller knew he was alive when he heard this word.
Simple debridement treatment is different from debridement surgery. Debridement surgery is definitely one of the surgical nightmares.
Debridement surgery is like a mathematical problem with a very high computational volume, and it is not very difficult to say it is difficult, especially for top surgeons like Strange, the difficulty is completely pediatric level.
However, this kind of surgery has a large amount of operation and complex operating environment. It is normal to clear the wound for a few hours after encountering a relatively difficult wound. Moreover, if the debridement is not thorough, the consequences may be more deadly than the failure of some difficult surgery.
It's okay for the surgeon, but this operation is really exhausting. There are at least several assistants and nurses in the operating room, and there are only one Schiller here.
Moreover, Strange is the most difficult surgeon. No one in the operating room he is idle, and he will be pointed out to be like a gyro, and while helping him work, he will be scolded by him. When his temper comes, he will be scolded from his assistant to the patient, and even the needles and threads in the operating room can't escape.
Sure enough, after Strange was completely working, he didn't consider the game background at all. He took off the bird's beak mask that was in trouble, embedded a single piece of glasses from the tool holder next to him in his eye sockets, leaned down and supported him on the edge of the operating table, closed one eye, and began to observe the wound carefully.
"Prepare 35°C normal saline." Strange said while looking, "1% povidone iodine and 3% hydrogen peroxide..."
"Please, where can I get you povidone iodine and hydrogen peroxide?" Schiller said while mixing saline in front of the operating table. "But I remember the treatment manual that ulcerative skin trauma infection can be diluted ten times with one-third of an ounce of black thorn bile fluid, and then combined with brown patellar mushroom juice..."
"That's your business," said Strange. "Didn't you convince me of your dispensing level? It's your problem if you don't rinse thoroughly."
Schiller gritted his teeth and took a breath, rolled up his sleeves and said, "Okay, I have to let you see my medication level!"
After saying that, he began to prepare the medicine quickly, first put the prepared saline water on the copper plate roasted on the charcoal basin and heated it, then took out the jar with black thorn galls, poured out the molluscs that looked like sea urchins but were sticky and mashed them, scraped the mucus into the copper test tube, and then measured with a standard ounce cup.
Then put on gloves, took out the dried mushrooms in the box from under the cabinet, threw them into the bowl and grinded them. At the same time, took off the normal saline water that was almost the same temperature and put them into the syringe.
Suddenly he heard footsteps coming from the corridor and shouted to the back without looking back: "Travel! Bring the mask on!"
The head nurse's eyes appeared behind the observation window again. Schiller glanced at it, but the movements on his hands did not stop. He said while operating: "Sorry, ma'am, it's a difficult thing to do. I don't have time to chat with you now."
"What disease does he have?" The head nurse's hoarse voice sounded.
"Hippocratic oath, ma'am, I cannot disclose it."
"Hmph." The head nurse snorted coldly and then disappeared.
Schiller wiped the sweat from his forehead and walked to the operating table with everything in a brass tray. Strange had cleaned up all the dirt outside the skin.