SWDnovel Chapter 514 Proctology: There's no limit to how outrageous things can get.
Chapter 514 Proctology: There's no limit to how outrageous things can get.
Across from them, on that blank face, although there were no facial expressions, in that instant, both Vassim and Derek clearly sensed a shift in emotion.
The chill emanating from that thing changed from "arrogant cold" to "cautious coolness".
Like a cobra that had already raised its neck in preparation to attack, but at the last moment recognized the scent of the other side and hesitated.
It recognized the gun.
Wasim stopped turning the gun, casually pointing the muzzle downwards, his thumb wedging the hammer, and his remaining four fingers loosely gripping the handle.
Then he took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, shook out two, put one in his own mouth, and handed the other to the patient.
The thing on the bench didn't move.
Wasim waited two seconds, then extended the cigarette forward another half an inch.
"It's windy outside, but warm inside. Go back and lie down after you finish this, so the nurses won't have to look for you everywhere."
"You know, if they can't find anyone, they'll yell at us security guards for not doing our jobs."
silence.
The dark gray shadow stopped spreading.
The smile on that blank face slowly disappeared.
Instead, there was an expression that was hard to describe, like something like "weighing" things.
It stared at the cigarette in Wasim's hand for two seconds.
Then it stretched out a hand and took the cigarette.
Wasim took out a lighter from his pocket, lit it with a "click," lit the one in his mouth first, took a puff, and then handed the lighter over.
The thing looked down at the lighter, then looked up at Vassim.
Then it did something that Derek would never forget for the rest of his life—
It placed the cigarette on its mouthless face, and the cigarette seemed to magically stick to the blank surface.
Then it tilted its head slightly, brought it close to the lighter Vassim handed it, and lit the cigarette, the red light flashing.
It took a puff.
Smoke drifted out from above it and slowly dissipated in the air.
Wasim also took a drag of his cigarette.
The two men sat facing each other, smoking, neither of them saying a word.
Then, Wasim took the cigarette out of his mouth, pinched it between his thumb and middle finger, and tilted his head toward the inpatient department.
"Go ahead, the nurse is already missing you."
That thing stared at him for a while.
Then he stood up, turned around, faced the iron door of the inpatient department, and began to slide.
The courtyard returned to quiet.
A gust of wind blew, scattering some of the cigarette ash in Wasim's hand.
Derek let out a long breath: "Vasim."
"Um."
"When...did you get a gun?"
Wasim took a drag of his cigarette and exhaled: "It's always been there."
"All the time?" Derek's voice rose a notch.
"That gun looks fucking awesome, can I take a look?" Derek asked.
Wasim glanced at him, put the gun back into its magazine, and said with a smile:
"This gun is prone to accidental discharge; you'd better not touch it."
........................
In the proctology clinic at 5 p.m., Hideto Kuroki, the chosen one of the Sakura Kingdom, sat expressionlessly behind the examination table.
He was wearing a white lab coat, and his aloof, unapproachable face showed no emotion.
Although he had been sitting here for three whole hours and had treated nine bizarre patients, each one of whom made him wish he could cut off his own nose.
The smell of the proctology department needs no further description.
But he persevered.
Just then, the 10th patient pushed open the door and walked in.
It was a middle-aged male ghost.
He looked to be in his forties, wearing a wrinkled plaid shirt and faded jeans.
His face was ashen, his lips were purple, and he walked in an extremely strange manner.
Its two legs are splayed outwards, as if it is imitating a penguin, as if it has something stuck inside its body that cannot fall out.
Hideto Kuroki looked up, his gaze lingering for a second on the patient's gait before moving to his face.
"Please sit down."
The middle-aged man moved with difficulty to the chair in front of the examination table. The act of sitting down seemed to be the result of several internal struggles. Finally, he gritted his teeth and slowly, inch by inch, lowered his body down.
The moment he sat down, he let out a long breath, and a fine layer of sweat appeared on his forehead.
Hideto Kuroki picked up the medical record: "Where do you feel unwell?"
The middle-aged man licked his chapped lips, hesitated for a moment, and then spoke.
"Doctor...don't laugh when I tell you."
"Won't."
"Then I'll tell you." The middle-aged male ghost took a deep breath. "I... I accidentally put a fish inside my body."
Hidetoshi Kuroki's pen stopped on the medical record book.
"fish?"
"A fish." The middle-aged man's tone was extremely serious. "About... this big."
He gestured with his hand, indicating that it was about the length of an adult's forearm. "Yesterday I was fishing by the river and caught a pretty big bass. I was very happy and put it in the bucket behind me."
"Then I squatted down to tidy up my fishing gear, and I accidentally slipped and fell on my bottom—"
He paused for a moment.
"I sat on that fish."
"Then the fish slid in." After the middle-aged man finished speaking, he realized something was off and added, "It's true, I'm not lying to you."
Hideto Kuroki was silent for two seconds.
"When did this happen yesterday?"
"Yesterday afternoon."
"You haven't dealt with it since yesterday afternoon?"
"I tried," the middle-aged man said with a hint of grievance in his voice, "I couldn't figure it out myself. I thought it might be fine after a good night's sleep, but I felt even worse when I woke up this morning."
"Then I thought about coming to the hospital to see a doctor, but I felt it was strange, so I delayed until the afternoon."
Hideto Kuroki put down his pen and stood up.
Despite his strong resentment, he was forced to fulfill his duties as a doctor due to the rules of the instance.
"Lie down on the examination bed, on your side, with your legs curled up."
The middle-aged man struggled to his feet and then moved to the examination bed with penguin-like steps.
He climbed onto the bed, turned to his side, undressed, and curled up...
Hideto Kuroki put on his gloves, and his nostrils twitched slightly.
The taste is off.
It wasn't the stench of a common infection, nor the stench of feces, but a deeper, more putrid smell, like something long dead being dug out of its grave.
He didn't speak.
He picked up the lubricant, applied it to his gloves, and then began the finger examination.
It explored for about two seconds, then stopped.
The texture he felt with his fingertips was wrong.
It's like pressing in a piece of tofu that's been sitting for too long, with a slippery film already forming on the surface.
With a slight pressure from his knuckles, the membrane collapsed, and a warm, slightly fluid gas escaped through the gaps between his fingers.
In an instant, Hidetoshi Kuroki felt as if his stomach had been squeezed hard.
He clenched his back teeth.
"I need to take it out." His voice remained steady, and his lips barely moved.
Because he was afraid that if he opened his mouth, he would spit it out first...