Chapter 365 Roland
miracle.
The patient was enveloped in a gentle, bright light. The sores and wounds on his body were healing at a speed visible to the naked eye. The eroded internal organs deep in his abdomen were also gradually repaired, which slowly allowed his face to show some of the color that a living person should have.
Aside from Roland Mony and the professor, everyone present watched the scene in awe. This was a healer, bringing life and joy—young Master Roland, however, showed little excitement. He had seen many powerful healers of this level, but Lionel Mony's strange condition wasn't about healing wounds.
Sure enough, when the therapist withdrew his hand, the patient's eyeballs had already begun to move slightly under his eyelids, and it seemed that he was about to wake up. Roland Moni suddenly drew the sword from the waist of his servant, and before his own servant could react, he did not hesitate to cut open the patient's stomach!
Blood splattered, and with a scream, the patient jolted awake from the excruciating pain of being disemboweled. Seeing his internal organs exposed, his eyes rolled back and he fainted. Roland remained calm, using the tip of his sword to roughly rummage through the still-steaming intestines, then slowly lifted the patient's liver.
The thing was soaked in yellow-green pus with a strong stench of corruption. It had lost its healthy and plump reddish-brown color and appeared abnormally swollen. It was an uneven, filthy gray-yellow color, interspersed with large patches of dark red or black-brown necrotic areas, which were gradually receding under the repair of divine power.
The faces of several servants nearby began to look grim, and some of them clearly wanted to vomit - even those who had been stained with blood would inevitably feel extremely uncomfortable when seeing their own kind being dissected alive.
Roland Mony, who looked pampered, had no expression on his face, as if he was just admiring the beauty of the garden. He threw away the sword stained with human slime and left the poor creature lying alone on the muddy and dusty ground with its belly open, like a slaughtered animal.
"I have to say, you're more reliable than most of the therapists my father hired. At least the ulceration and bleeding on the surface of his internal organs have been stopped," Roland said lazily. "But his organs are still inevitably rotting, like a rotten orange. I'm very curious, this kind of cursed corruption from the inside out, can you really..."
Roland's voice suddenly choked. The sword he had thrown to the ground suddenly appeared in the healer's hand. The tip of the sword, still dripping with disgusting liquid, was pressing against his neck without warning. The coldness penetrated his throat, even leaving a dent that threatened to bleed at any moment.
The servants and guards' belated cries of surprise were heard all around, along with the sounds of weapons being drawn and pistols being loaded.
"--stop!"
"Master Roland!"
A drop of sweat ran down Roland Mooney's forehead. He saw a pair of eyes, blue as the silent sea, yet he felt as if he were facing the wrath of the entire universe.
"Is this how you treat my patients?" the man asked calmly.
"What are you standing there for?" Kane shuddered and immediately shouted at the servants around him, "Where's the healer? Hurry up and heal the incision on the experimental subject!"
Fortunately, the young master always travels in a grand manner, and he brings all the necessary people with him, including a therapist to prevent any accidents.
Seeing several people scrambling to save the already dying "experimental subject," Kane smiled flatteringly and forced his way between the two people in a stalemate, trying to act as a peacemaker: "It's a misunderstanding, it's all a misunderstanding—oh, look at what this has caused."
"Don't worry, the person you just saved will never die. The young master just wanted to show you the horror of the 'rot disease'." A bitter smile appeared on his face, as if he was about to cry. He carefully tried to lift the tip of the sword with his fingers. "The 'Shelter' company will never treat those who contribute to the company unfairly. He will definitely receive proper treatment and resettlement in the future. Look at this sword, isn't it..."
If you scratch this little ancestor's skin and he makes a fuss without any care, it will be a big trouble.
But the sword remained steady, gracefully tapping Roland's throat. The disgusting liquid had already seeped into his collar and clung to his skin, causing the young master's expression to turn extremely grim.
"Rotten, rotten, disease." The mysterious man said word by word, "So that's what you call this disease?"
He suddenly sheathed his sword and shook it off with a casual flick, shaking off all the dirt. Roland's expression changed drastically. The liquid, mixed with blood and bile, now splashed all over him, staining his elegant coat and leaving glaring streaks. A few drops even flowed onto his lips. He felt nauseous and doubled over, his face pale as he began to retch violently.
The servants around him rushed to help him, but the culprit completely ignored Roland's reaction and handed the sword to the servant whose weapon had just been taken away by the young master.
"Here you go."
The voice came from under the hood, still calm and composed. The servant reached out to take the sword in a panic, his posture as stiff as if he was holding a pile of red-hot coals, not caring whether he would be retaliated by the young master who had been hurt.
Roland almost turned his intestines out and had to wash them. He finally managed to suppress the nausea, but his eyes, red from coughing, revealed an extreme cold anger.
Ever since he gradually took over his father's wealth, few people dared to insult him like this. It would be best if he didn't find out who this guy was...
The man he secretly cursed, while the others' expressions changed drastically, slowly said, "Rot, the miner's curse... Sadly, I prefer to call it the price of greed. The same reason the Protector Company was born will also be its cause of death."
He took the handkerchief handed to him by the black-haired young man beside him and wiped his slender white fingers slowly and carefully.
Roland Moni's expression suddenly changed: "Do you know this is related to...?"
He swallowed the word "coal spirit" and finally a hint of fear appeared in his eyes: "May I ask how I should address you?"
"Octavius."
A subtle expression appeared on Roland Moni's face.
It's obviously a pseudonym, but that's not the point. The point is that in ancient Sylveon, Octavius refers to a giant monster that haunts deep-sea trenches. It's an ancient species of the Kraken, more mysterious, larger, and more ferocious.
In other words... a giant octopus.
…
The professor and Ethan sat by almost the entire time, until they successfully boarded the Protector Company's carriage. Unlike its simple exterior, the carriage's interior was truly luxurious—of course, specifically Young Master Roland's personal vehicle.
To be honest, the courage and boldness displayed by Roland Mony were worthy of old Mony's favor. One moment he had a sword pointed at his neck, and the next moment he invited "Mr. Octavius" to sit with him without any hesitation.
The young master cast a sinister glance at the expressionless, black-haired servant. A lowly servant had the audacity to follow them into the carriage, completely lacking any self-awareness. But the healer acted as if it was a matter of course, even moving slightly to make room for the other person to sit more comfortably.
Even though he was hoping to take the opportunity to build a closer relationship and exchange some words, Roland couldn't help but sarcastically say, "Sir Octavius, your servant is truly loyal and never leaves your side."
"He's not my servant, he's my personal assistant." Octavius glanced at him. Roland didn't know if it was an illusion, but he felt that the temperature in the carriage had suddenly dropped a lot.
What's the difference? Roland thought with annoyance, but he didn't want to waste time dwelling on such a problem, so he had to reluctantly endure the annoyance of having such a lowly and useless person in his sight.
"On your way here, you must have passed through the city of Osiris, right?" He perked up and continued to inquire. "The entire city of Osiris is under martial law right now. I'm sure it took a lot of effort to get rid of those damned slaves."
Before the therapist could even speak, the black-haired young man interrupted without any manners, "It seems you have a strong opinion of the Limin Party?"
Roland Monnis glanced at him in disbelief, but the healer remained silent, seemingly waiting for his response. He reluctantly replied, "It's more than just an opinion. There's a blood feud between me and the ghost!"
The ghost himself raised his brows slightly. He couldn't remember any violent conflict between him and this young master Roland that could be described as a "blood feud". At most, it was just supporting the miners' strike and revolution, and protecting Miss Emilia Carleton... Well, cutting off someone's source of income, and the hatred of having his "wife" taken away - regardless of whether she was the "wife" he identified herself with - it seemed that it could indeed be called a blood feud, although the latter could probably be blamed on the former.
As expected.
"He took away my future wife." Roland Mony said with a gloomy face, "Emilia Carleton, the most beautiful rose in the empire, was destined to be my, Roland Mony's, woman. We had already started talking about marriage, but she was kidnapped by a despicable and shameless ghost - he was so bold as to touch my rose!"
"If it weren't for the ghost, Emilia would have accepted my proposal long ago. Who knows what despicable means he used to take her away by force!" He became more and more excited as he spoke, his fingers clenching the expensive velvet seat covers. "I swear, even if I have to dig three feet into the ground, I will rescue my rose from the clutches of that villain. As for that rat who tried to covet something that definitely doesn't belong to him, I will make him pay every penny he owes in the most painful way - hiss!"
The carriage suddenly shook violently. Azuka had already supported the professor calmly, but Roland Moni was caught off guard and fell forward, immediately bumping his forehead and biting his tongue.
"Sorry, sir!" the coachman shouted panickedly outside: "Something suddenly appeared under the wheels, and we didn't have time to dodge -"
Roland was furious at the loss of face in front of others, but the bite was so severe that he couldn't say a word for a moment, so he didn't notice that "Sir Octavius" was slowly retracting his fingers.
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