It's Empty!
Puk—swish—shuk—swish—puk—swish—swish—shuk—
"Alright, apply healing magic. Extract from the subspace pouch in your right hand. Right hand reattachment complete—now finish up the left."
"Yes, sir!"
The first amputation patient, Chester's left hand, was in far worse shape than anticipated. Using the sutured arteries and skin from the stump, they proceeded with a vein graft. Prioritizing the left hand over the right—which had lost three fingers—was to prevent necrosis via the graft.
Just finishing the left-hand reattachment and microsutures had Minho's back soaked in sweat. But his body marinating in perspiration wasn't the issue now. His gaze was fixed solely on Chester's left hand—specifically, the palm.
"Director, the palm...!"
Healing magic spread across Chester's palm. But as Rebecca watched it darken like rotting flesh, her voice filled with dismay.
"Excise the necrotic skin and reapply healing magic."
"Yes, sir..."
Healing magic delivered recovery speeds impossible even by modern medicine. But that didn't make it omnipotent. The skin on Chester's left hand had peeled away like a rubber glove, with severe damage to the palm that no spell could fully restore.
Rebecca peeled off the blackened, hardened necrotic skin and reapplied healing magic. A bizarre new layer formed on the palm, devoid of lifelines.
"Everyone, focus! Right-hand reattachment next!"
The alien texture of the freshly formed palm skin tugged at his heart, but there was no time for scar revision now. Not just Chester's severed right fingers—some twenty patients waited behind him.
"Index finger first. Pinky isn't visible properly—cleanse it again."
"Yes, sir!"
Once the witches completed setup, Minho dove into the right-hand surgery. Chester's index and middle fingers were severed just below the nail bed.
Shluuuk—thunk—scrrrk scrrrk—
The first step in finger reattachment: debride damaged tissue from both severed ends.
"Director, arterial spurting is normal!"
"Got it."
Scrrk—scrrk scrrrk—
Next, confirm arterial bleeding like this. Inexperienced ER docs sometimes dissected around the artery on amputated fingers. But that often mangled the small surgical field worse, so leaving adjacent tissue intact yielded better outcomes.
"Bone trimming now."
Shuuuuk—crunch—crack—shuuuuk—scrrk—
"You saw it on the left hand, but watch closely again now. Depending on the amputation, trim and shorten the bone. That allows smooth suturing without vessel tension."
"Yes, sir!"
With nearly twenty emergency amputation patients left, Minho couldn't handle them solo. This would be Rebecca, Hazel, and Stella's first and last chance to lead simple reattachments like Chester's right hand.
Crunch—crack—scrrrk—scrrk—
Blood spurted from the arterial stump, but the witches didn't flinch. Minho pressed on.
"Bone fixation now."
Shuuuuk—snap—
After trimming both ends, he inserted a steel pin from inside out through the severed finger to fixate the bone.
"Rebecca. Your turn."
"Yes, Director."
Rebecca aligned the finger on the pin to the fracture site, then drove it inward to secure.
"Rebecca leads from here. I'll supervise."
"Yes, sir."
Stella had observed and learned the most surgeries at his side. But Rebecca excelled in technique and comprehension.
"Suturing fixation site now."
"Go ahead!"
In surgeries that could leave lifelong scars or disabilities, skill trumped all. Good personality? Experience? Vital traits. But when one slip could doom a patient forever, competence came first.
Swish—shuk—tick—swish—shuk—swish—tick—
Suture needles danced like living things through Rebecca's hands, piercing and closing the nail bed and lateral nail folds.
Now for the arterial microanastomosis.
"Heparin."
Shuuuuk—thunk—
Under Rebecca's command, Hazel flushed the vessel walls with heparin solution to clear clots.
With bones fixed, the pulsing artery faced its counterpart clearly. Rebecca began microsuturing the 0.58mm artery with delicate speed.
'Excellent. She can handle non-complex cases solo.'
Using 10-0 nylon, microanastomosis in tight spaces required no clamps—just tourniquet pressure. Rebecca expertly located and sutured the deep, fat-buried artery, easing his concerns. As beads of sweat formed on her brow, the first patient's surgery wrapped.
"Director, check please."
"Good. Healing magic, then straight to recovery. Send Jo family, Kellogg, and next patients to assist."
"Yes, Director!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Yep!"
Watching the witches wheel the patient out, Minho cracked his neck with a pop. Time for the one-man show.
* * *
"Phew... good work, everyone."
It took a full day to complete the nonstop reattachments after emergencies flooded the Beauty Tower. Only because Rebecca, Hazel, and Stella led separate ORs.
"Gah... huff..."
"Good... good work, sir."
While the witches handled other rooms, Minho operated with Jo family and Kellogg's cat-paw assists. Alternating per patient left the Jo-Kellogg crew drained.
'Yumushimbeop worked? A bit sluggish, but not exhausted.'
Minsia, Hoblood elder. Her eerie cackle still echoed from that hellish fortnight fleeing through woods. No martial arts beyond lightness skill, but stamina had visibly surged.
"Director, well done."
Lost in thought exiting the OR, Walter awaited—likely from incision time, never leaving post as always.
"You rest too, Walter. Emergencies are done."
"Yes, but first—a word."
"What is it?"
"Something odd from the first patient."
Damn. What now? Fresh off surgery?
But Walter's urgency showed as he hit the elevator button, as if escorting to a meeting.
"Odd how? What?"
"The first patient you treated. He said something strange. Rebecca, Hazel, and Stella await—let's go together."
"Ugh... fine."
Not physically taxing, but ten-plus surgeries demanded mental respite like nectar. If overprotective Walter insisted, something was up.
By B1 staff lounge, the witches—who'd finished earlier—waited.
"Maaaiineeer! Good workkk!"
"I worked hard, so don't make me work more."
Grabbing the fluffy-winged furball Res mid-leap by the scruff and dangling her, Minho pulled a chair to the witches' table.
"You're here, Director."
"What's going on? Botched surgery?"
"No, but... better see for yourself."
Rebecca shook her head and tapped the prepped crystal orb. A holographic screen projected into the air.
"Not some tearjerker gratitude fest, right?"
"No. Fast-forwarding... here, yeah?"
Rebecca swiftly scrubbed the orb, fast-forwarding.
The voices: patient Chester and Rebecca. Chester, lost in thought, ignored her and rambled.
Chester handed over a trembling orb. Footage showed his party in bloody melee with dungeon gae, bodycam-style. Adventurers' screams mixed with the creeps' eerie, chilling laughter. Chester froze a frame, pointing shakily.
"Not alive?"
Minho blurted in shock. Rebecca paused the orb and turned.
"Director, seems dark power... black magic has infiltrated Frederik Dungeon Zone."
"..."
The unwanted shadow he'd shoved far away drew a step closer.