The golden light receded like a tide.
Victor stood frozen in place, holding the chainsaw.
He blinked, reached out with his rubber-gloved hand, and wiped his blood-stained goggles twice.
A hallucination.
This was definitely a hallucination caused by low blood sugar.
Where was the mountain of flesh that had just made the operating table creak and groaned with a foul stench?
Where was that two-and-a-half-meter-tall stitched monstrosity with its intestines dragging on the floor?
Where did it go?
At this moment, a small figure lay quietly on the cold operating table before him.
She looked to be about 1.5 meters tall.
Her skin was as pale as porcelain, possessing a bloodless, sickly beauty.
She wore a complex and exquisite black gothic puff skirt with dark red lace trim—Victor swore the color was identical to the rotten meat on the previous stitched monstrosity.
Most absurd of all was her neck.
Where there should have been a rough, hideous wound, there was now a ring of exquisitely fine black sutures.
The stitches were dense and even, resembling an expensive black choker, adding a suffocating, taboo charm to this perfect body.
"Is this... a medical miracle?"
Victor’s materialist worldview was collapsing.
He glanced back at the scraps of meat on the floor, confirming that the violent chainsaw surgery just now had been real.
"According to the law of conservation of mass, where did the other ton of meat go?"
"Did the system eat it?"
Victor set down the chainsaw and leaned in cautiously.
As a rigorous doctor, his first instinct when encountering such supernatural pathology was to take a slice for research.
He reached out a finger and poked the girl's cheek.
It was soft.
Elastic.
"Body temperature is only twenty degrees," Victor muttered to himself. "No livor mortis, muscle relaxation is normal... If I don't consider the fact that she turned from a pile of rotten meat, she's practically a perfect specimen."
The moment his finger touched her.
Swish.
The girl’s previously closed eyes snapped open without warning.
Their eyes met.
They were a pair of deep, dark red eyes.
Like dried blood, or like burning embers.
There was no rationality in the depths of her pupils, only a surging, chaotic madness that was intensely attached to the person before her.
It was like a newly awakened beast seeing its master.
【Ding!】
【Surgery has produced a critical hit effect!】
【Patient 'Nameless Stitched Corpse Puppet' has completed a life-form leap.】
【Congratulations on obtaining God-Chosen No. 1—Stitched Corpse Maiden · Alice】
The system notification exploded, interrupting Victor's urge to grab a dissecting knife.
A new character card surfaced.
【Name: Alice】
【Race: High-tier Undead / Stitched Corpse Maiden】
【Identity: Clinic Head Nurse (Reserve)】
【Loyalty: MAX (Eternal Devotion)】
【Abilities: Infinite Regeneration, Death Suture, Great Scissors Mastery.】
【Description: A failure pieced together from corpse parts, she has evolved into a perfect killing weapon through your miraculous (violent) 'physical therapy.' In her eyes, you are the deity who granted her new life.】
"God-Chosen?"
Victor’s mouth twitched.
"System, do you have some kind of misunderstanding about 'nurses'?"
"I want an assistant who can write medical records, not a killing machine with scissors!"
"And what’s with this MAX loyalty? Wasn’t she trying to eat me just a moment ago?"
While Victor was complaining.
The girl on the operating table moved.
She sat up abruptly, her movements stiff yet shockingly fast.
Crack.
A crisp sound echoed from her cervical vertebrae.
She tilted her head, her waterfall-like black hair sliding down to cover half of her pale face.
She raised her hands, looking at the slender fingers with nails painted in black gore, seemingly wondering where her original claws had gone.
Next, she touched her stomach.
The gaping hole, the intestines that had dragged on the ground, the tearing sensation that had tortured her every second...
They were gone.
The sensation from her fingertips was smooth, firm skin and a row of suture knots as neat as a work of art.
It didn't hurt.
It truly didn't hurt at all.
"Hehe..."
A low, hoarse laugh escaped her throat.
It was soft at first, then gradually grew louder, carrying a hint of neurotic joy.
"Haha... Hahahaha..."
The girl hugged her shoulders, her nails sinking deep into her flesh as if confirming the reality of this body.
She was laughing.
Though that smile made her look like a psychiatric patient who had just escaped from prison.
Victor took half a step back, silently tightening his grip on the chainsaw.
"Um... Miss Alice?"
He was calculating whether it would be faster to saw her head off or just run.
"Based on post-operative observation, emotional instability is normal... Do you feel dizzy? Nauseous? Or perhaps like you want to kill someone?"
The laughter stopped abruptly.
Shink.
The girl snapped her head around, her red eyes locking onto Victor.
It was the gaze of a predator.
But in the next second, the killing intent melted away, replaced by a thick, fervent obsession and adoration.
She saw the man.
A blood-stained lab coat—that was the holy robe of a savior.
A roaring, rusty chainsaw in his hand—that was the divine tool that severed pain.
In that moment, memories flooded back.
She remembered the vibration of the chainsaw cutting through putrid flesh, the searing pain of alcohol splashed over her intestines, and even more, the tremor when that silver needle wove through her skin.
It was him.
He didn't despise her ugliness or her stench.
He used those powerful hands to forcibly stuff the filth back inside.
He cursed her for her lack of hygiene while sewing her wounds with perfect neatness.
He was a god more insane, more powerful, and more 'merciful' than any alchemist.
"Doctor..."
Alice's lips parted.
Her voice was no longer a broken rattle, but a cold, metallic loli voice.
She slowly slid off the operating table.
The complex long skirt didn't hinder her movements; her small leather shoes landed lightly on the floor without a sound.
Victor instinctively raised the chainsaw.
"Stay back! Maintain social distancing! I have bacteria on me!"
He was genuinely panicked.
This girl's eyes were completely wrong.
That wasn't a patient looking at a doctor; that was a believer looking at an evil god, a rabid dog looking at its master.
Alice didn't stop.
She walked step by step until she was right in front of Victor, ignoring the still-spinning serrated blade.
Then.
On the blood-stained floor.
She lifted her skirt, bowed elegantly, and performed a standard courtly gesture.
She dropped to one knee.
Thump.
She lowered her head, revealing the neck wrapped in black sutures.
This was a posture of unreserved submission, completely exposing her fatal weakness.
"Doctor..."
She looked up, her red eyes sparkling with a sickly light, a sweet smile curling on her lips.
"Or... should I call you, Master?"
She stuck out her tongue, licking a sharp little canine tooth, her eyes looking hazily at the blood-stained chainsaw.
"Thank you... Thank you for giving me a new life."
"The feeling of being sawn open... it was truly wonderful."
"Alice feels very good now, so good... that I want to snip the outside world to pieces just for you."
Hum—
A pair of silver scissors, nearly half the height of a person, appeared out of thin air in her hand.
The scissors glinted with cold light, wrapped in an eerie black aura.
"Master, there seems to be something noisy outside."
Alice tilted her head, seemingly hearing the scratching of low-level monsters outside the clinic.
Her smile became even more brilliant, and even more dangerous.
"Can I... snip them to pieces, and then make them into dolls just like how you sewed me?"
Victor looked at the gothic loli kneeling before him, then at those terrifyingly large scissors.
He took a deep breath, adjusted his non-existent glasses, and forced himself to maintain the dignity of a director.
"Cough... forget about the dolls."
"Also, don't call me Master. It sounds like an improper establishment."
Victor pointed at the scissors and corrected her solemnly:
"Since you are the head nurse, call me Director."
"Furthermore..."
"Put the scissors away first. Those are surgical instruments, not toys."
"Go mop the blood off the floor. As a nurse, you must have an obsession with cleanliness, understand?"
Alice was stunned for a moment.
The fervor in her eyes grew even more intense.
What a strict master.
Does he even manage the posture of killing with such detail?
"As you wish... Director."
She stood up, spun the great scissors around her finger, and bowed gracefully.
"Alice will go... clean up for you right away."
Rate on N.U.
