"Doctor?"
Old hunter John stared at the young man claiming to be a doctor, his mind a complete jumble.
A doctor...
Was there a doctor who treated people with a chainsaw?
Was there a doctor flanked by vampires and stitched corpse maidens?
Was there a doctor who went on team-building trips with skeleton soldiers?
This surpassed the sum of his life experiences from the past sixty years.
"Of course,"
Victor replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
He glanced at the back of John's head, which was still seeping blood, and frowned.
"That's just a simple bandage. It won't do. There's a risk of intracranial hemorrhage. We must return immediately for a comprehensive brain CT scan."
"CT? What's that?" John looked lost.
"An advanced piece of equipment that can see if grass is growing inside your head."
Victor didn't explain further.
He grabbed one of John's arms without leaving room for argument and gestured to the nearby skeleton Security Brigade.
"Support this gentleman. We're going back to the clinic."
"Eh? Wait! I'm not going!"
John was scared out of his wits and struggled desperately.
Was he kidding?
Back to the clinic?
Back to that terrifying nest surrounded by monsters?
Wouldn't that be walking straight into a trap?!
"It's not up to you."
Victor's voice turned cold.
"You are my patient now. Until you are fully recovered, you aren't going anywhere. This is for your own safety."
Two skeleton security guards, nearly two meters tall, flanked John and hoisted him up like a little chick.
Those cold bone claws resting on his shoulders made John instantly give up all resistance.
He closed his eyes in despair.
It was over.
He had fallen completely into the clutches of a demon.
...
The group traveled through the thick fog.
Strangely, as Victor and the others walked ahead, the dense, unyielding mist automatically parted to both sides, revealing a clear path.
Carried in the middle, John's heart sank to the bottom of an abyss.
As expected.
This man... could control the mist here.
He was the king of this cursed land.
A few minutes later.
A dark castle filled with eerie Gothic style appeared in John's vision.
The entire castle was built from unknown black stone, its walls covered in withered roses. The massive bone cross on the roof emitted a strange glow under the pale moonlight.
"What... what is this place?"
John's voice was trembling.
Since when did the Eternal Night Peninsula have such a terrifying castle?
"My home,"
Victor replied casually.
"Benevolent Heart Clinic. Welcome."
With that, he pushed open the heavy black iron gates carved with agonized human faces.
Creak—
The doors opened.
John was carried inside, stepping into the hall of this 'clinic' against his will.
Then.
He saw the most terrifying, worldview-shattering scene of his life—a sight that could make him vomit up a dinner he'd eaten thirty years ago...
A literal Hellscape.
The first thing that caught his eye was a glowing 'thing' by the door.
It was a person stripped of their clothes, their entire body coated in a transparent liquid.
He was fixed to a metal pole in a pious kneeling position, hands held high, supporting a lantern that emitted a soft glow.
He was still alive.
His chest was still rising and falling slightly.
But in those eyes, only emptiness and numbness remained.
Gulp.
John swallowed hard, feeling his legs turn to jelly.
Turning... turning a living person into a streetlamp?!
What... what kind of evil god's sick joke was this?!
"Oh, let me introduce you."
Victor seemed to notice his gaze and said nonchalantly:
"This is the clinic's new security guard and streetlamp, Mr. Black Blade. He used to be an assassin, but his eyesight wasn't great and he always liked to crawl into dark places, so I helped him... with some physical correction."
John: "..."
His gaze stiffly moved away from the 'streetlamp' toward the other side of the hall.
There was a massive fireplace.
Before the fireplace, a tall skeleton wearing a black cloak was facing a large full-length mirror, carefully... combing its Mohawk which was burning with blue flames.
As it combed, it even hummed an unknown tune, its bony knuckles tapping out the rhythm.
And beside it.
A red-haired woman wearing a tight black nurse uniform, with a figure so sultry it could cause a nosebleed, sat with her legs crossed. She was drinking a red liquid from a goblet while clicking away on an abacus, calculating accounts.
Occasionally, she would stick out her tongue and lick the two sharp fangs that glinted with a metallic cold light.
"That is Mr. Aur, a VIP client of our clinic. He comes by occasionally for hair maintenance."
"And this is Ms. Elizabeth, our Financial Manager and Chief Anesthesiologist."
Victor introduced them enthusiastically.
John's brain had stopped thinking.
A Bone Sovereign... getting his hair done here?
A vampire queen... working as a bookkeeper here?
Has the world gone mad?
Or have I?!
"Pop! Pop-pop!"
Just as John's worldview was about to completely collapse.
A soft, bubbly sound rang out.
He instinctively looked down.
He saw a translucent, emerald-green little girl who was as bouncy as jelly, 'rolling' past his feet while hugging a trash can larger than herself.
As she rolled, she pulled a piece of rotten meat stained with black blood from the trash can and happily stuffed it into her mouth.
"That's Bobo, our Chief Janitor."
Victor added.
John's vision began to blur.
His dull gaze swept across the hall.
He saw the little girl in the Gothic black dress using a pair of great scissors to trim her nails.
He saw the beast girl lying on the carpet, spinning in circles chasing her own tail.
He also saw the human anatomical charts hanging on the walls... which were still twitching slightly.
And the massive glass jars in the corner containing eyeballs, hearts, and unknown tentacles soaking in fluid.
Fear.
An indescribable fear that pierced into his very marrow instantly overwhelmed him.
This wasn't a clinic.
This wasn't some cultist's altar either.
This...
This was clearly the palace of an Abyss Lord in the mortal realm!
It was the ultimate collection of all nightmares!
"Is... is this... hell?"
John's voice was hoarse, his entire body shaking like a leaf.
He had lived for sixty years and considered himself a staunch atheist.
But at this moment, he desperately hoped the God of Holy Light would strike down a bolt of divine lightning to purify him along with this ghostly place.
"Hell?"
Victor paused when he heard the word.
Then, he shook his head, a kind and professional smile appearing on his face.
He personally poured a cup of steaming... unknown herbal tea and handed it to John.
"No, sir, you've misunderstood."
"This isn't hell."
Victor pointed to the massive red cross emblem overhead, made of white bones, his tone incredibly sincere.
"This is a place striving for the health of all mankind—"
"A comprehensive clinic."
John stared blankly at the cup of tea emitting an eerie green glow, then looked at Victor's 'pure and harmless' face.
His mental defenses completely collapsed at that moment.
Just then.
"Master!"
A crisp sound of footsteps approached.
Alice walked in from the backyard, carrying those massive silver scissors.
In her other hand, she held a bloody, still-twitching...
Massive heart.
The heart was as large as a basketball and covered in strange purple veins, clearly not belonging to any ordinary creature.
"Master, I just caught a blind 'Abyss Worm' in the backyard."
Alice held up the heart as if showing off a pig's heart she'd just bought from the market, her face full of a smile seeking praise.
"Look, this heart is quite fresh."
"Should I make it into a specimen for you now, or..."
"Should I put it in the morgue for cold storage first?"
John's gaze was frozen on that still-beating heart.
He saw the purple blood spraying from it.
He smelled that nauseating, fishy stench.
He could even feel that every time that heart throbbed, his own heart twitched in response.
Then.
His eyes rolled back.
Thud.
This old hunter, who had struggled to survive in the Eternal Night Peninsula for thirty years and had a mind as tough as steel, after witnessing this scene that could be called a 'Hellscape'...
Very simply fainted on the spot.
Victor's teacup was still suspended in mid-air.
He looked at the old man on the ground, foaming at the mouth and unconscious, and shook his head helplessly.
"Sigh."
"Why did he faint again?"
He turned around and addressed his group of 'employees' who were unfazed by the sight, offering a heartfelt lament.
"The mental fortitude of this generation of patients... is truly too poor."
Rate on N.U.
