December 20th.
Nine in the morning.
East End Mercy Hospital.
This was one of the few hospitals in the East End still operating normally.
Ever since the port riots, a massive influx of wounded had been arriving constantly. The entire building was permanently thick with the smell of disinfectant, herbal medicine, and blood. The corridors were packed with people waiting for treatment, and the doctors and nurses barely had a moment to rest. Gurneys rolled past continuously from both sides. Groans, coughs, and footsteps mingled together, enveloping the entire hospital in a suffocatingly oppressive atmosphere.
Alvin pushed open the hospital doors.
In his hand, he held the recommendation letter written by the director.
His other hand still carried his heavy iron toolbox.
Following the address the director had given him, he made his way through the crowded corridors, quickly arriving at a public ward at the far end of the second floor.
The ward was not large.
Six iron beds were arranged side by side.
The air was stale.
The window was half-open.
The freezing winter wind kept blowing in, yet it still failed to mask the smell of medicine inside the room.
The moment Alvin stepped through the door, his eyes landed on the bed at the very back.
Ryan lay there quietly, his forehead wrapped in bandages, his face so pale it was almost entirely drained of color.
Though his breathing was steady, there was still no sign of him waking up.
And beside the bed...
A young girl sat quietly, cradling a book in her arms.
She looked as though she hadn't slept all night, with obvious exhaustion shadowing her eyes. Hearing the footsteps, she gently raised her head.
Alvin walked over.
The girl stood up as well.
“Hello.”
Alvin nodded.
“I'm Ryan's colleague.”
“From the East End Archive.”
With that, he handed over the recommendation letter written in the director's own hand.
The girl read it over carefully.
Her expression finally relaxed slightly.
“Hello.”
“My name is Irene.”
“I'm his landlord's daughter.”
Alvin was slightly taken aback.
“You're the one who brought him here last night?”
Irene nodded gently.
“Yes.”
“I'm on winter break, so I was at home. After hearing noises from upstairs, I broke the door down with the other tenants and found him unconscious.”
At this point...
She couldn't help but look back at the bed.
Her voice grew quieter.
“The doctor said the injury on his head isn't too severe.”
“What's truly strange is...”
“They can't find any life-threatening injuries on him, yet he just won't wake up.”
Alvin didn't speak, merely staring quietly at Ryan.
Others might not be able to tell, but in his eyes...
Things were clearly not that simple.
After a moment of silence...
Alvin suddenly offered a warm smile.
“Miss Irene.”
“Could I trouble you to do me a favor?”
Irene blinked in surprise.
“What is it?”
“There's a bakery downstairs.”
“I've been busy since this morning and haven't had a chance to eat yet.”
Alvin patted his stomach, giving a helpless laugh.
“Could you help me buy two portions of breakfast?”
As he spoke, he fished a few copper coins out of his pocket.
Irene quickly waved her hands.
“No need, I'll go get it.”
“Thank you.”
Alvin smiled and nodded.
“Get one for yourself too.”
“You've been taking care of him since last night, so you probably haven't eaten either.”
Irene hesitated for a moment.
In the end, she nodded.
“I'll be right back then.”
With that, she quickly left the ward.
Once the door closed behind her...
The smile on Alvin's face vanished instantly.
He turned around slowly, looking back at Ryan on the bed, and examined him closely.
In the next second, his pupils dilated slightly.
He noticed that at some point, extremely fine cracks had appeared on the back of Ryan's hand, which was resting outside the blanket.
Those cracks didn't look like wounds; they resembled the hairline fractures spreading across the surface of fine porcelain.
And they were slowly extending toward his wrist, inch by inch.
At the same time, the light in the ward began to undergo an incredibly subtle shift.
The sunlight streaming through the window should have fallen evenly around the bed. Now, however, as if drawn by some invisible force, the light was slowly converging toward Ryan's body. It was so faint it was almost imperceptible, yet it was undeniably real.
Alvin slowly let out a breath.
He reached out and gently tapped the back of Ryan's hand with his fingertip.
In the next instant, an incredibly scorching sensation traveled up from his fingertip.
Alvin pulled his hand back immediately.
His brow furrowed deeply.
“The Lantern's glow is still growing.”
“This kid hasn't stopped at all.”
Just then...
The door to the ward was pushed open once more.
A nurse walked in.
“Sir?”
Alvin instantly regained his composure.
He pulled three glittering gold guineas from his pocket and gently placed them in the nurse's hand.
“Help me arrange a private room.”
The nurse looked down.
She froze in shock.
Three guineas. That was a full sixty-three shillings.
For an ordinary resident of the East End, this was by no means a small sum. It was enough for a family to live comfortably for quite a while.
She hesitated slightly.
“Sir, I don't have the authority to assign rooms directly. I'll need to report this to the head nurse.”
Alvin didn't offer an explanation.
Instead, he said calmly:
“I don't want anyone disturbing this patient.”
“And that includes other patients.”
“Keep any unrelated interns and visitors away as well.”
He paused.
Then, he added:
“The attending physician may make their rounds and administer treatment as scheduled, but no one else is to come near. I will cover all extra expenses.”
“Don't worry about the cost. If there are any additional charges, I will settle them immediately.”
Looking at the three heavy gold coins in her hand and knowing he was paying in full upfront, the nurse finally nodded gently.
“I'll go inform the head nurse right away and arrange a private room for you immediately.”
Alvin watched her leave, then looked back down at Ryan on the bed.
The sunlight continued to gather bit by bit, and those fine cracks were still slowly spreading.
Alvin sighed softly.
“The director was right.”
“You really are...”
“...a complete handful.”
Before long, the door to the ward was pushed open gently once more.
Irene walked back in, cradling a kraft paper bag.
The cold wind outside had turned the tip of her nose slightly red, and a few un-melted snowflakes rested on her shoulders.
As soon as she entered, she set the paper bag on the bedside table.
She began pulling things out, one by one.
A steaming portion of thick chicken soup.
Two freshly baked pieces of white bread.
A small box of sliced apples and pears.
And a pot of hot black tea.
Finally, she pulled out a small packet of fine sugar from the very bottom of the bag.
“The doctor said...”
“...it's best for the patient to have some hot soup once he wakes up.”
“He shouldn't eat cold fruit either, so I had the shop slice it and kept it tucked against my chest to keep it warm.”
She spoke very earnestly, as if reporting a matter of grave importance.
Alvin looked down at the items.
He couldn't help but smile.
“You've prepared quite thoroughly.”
Irene smiled softly, remembering the time back around Halloween.
“Mr. Ryan helped me in the past.”
“He even wrote a recommendation letter for me later on.”
“This... is the least I can do.”
Hearing this, Alvin didn't say anything more.
He simply took another look at the girl.
Just then, a soft knock came from outside the door.
Two nurses wheeled in an empty gurney.
“Sir.”
“The private room you requested is ready.”
Alvin nodded.
Then he turned to Irene.
“Miss Irene.”
“We'll take over from here.”
“The archive will take responsibility for looking after him.”
“Don't worry.”
“This kid is tough. He won't die anytime soon.”
He paused, a rare gentle smile appearing on his face.
“Besides...”
“...there are some things that are easier for us to handle than the doctors.”
Irene was slightly startled. Though she didn't fully understand, she still nodded.
“Then...”
“...I'll leave him in your hands.”
She gently tucked the blanket around Ryan, cast one last look at his still-unconscious form, and said softly:
“When he wakes up, please tell him...”
“...to focus on recovering first.”
Alvin smiled and waved his hand.
“Don't worry.”
“When he wakes up, I'll give him a good scolding on your behalf.”
Irene finally couldn't help but laugh.
She then gave a polite bow.
Turning around, she left the ward as the door slowly clicked shut behind her.
In the ward, only Alvin and the unconscious Ryan remained.
Rate on N.U.
