Chapter Seventy-Nine: Treatment List

After sending that message to the group, Phelan closed the chat and turned away from that land of death. Yet not long after he had spoken, the once stagnant chat group suddenly began to flood with messages at a furious pace.

[System Notice: The Queen has entered the Seven Sages group]

[The Queen: Holy hell, holy hell, holy hell!! Doctor, show some mercy and stay your hand!! We haven’t even finished eating yet!!]

[The Butcher: What’s going on, what’s going on? What happened? Queen, are you trying to scare someone to death by shouting like that? I thought a ghost had possessed you in the middle of the night!]

[The Queen: Look at the chat log! The doctor is going to treat the Federation!]

[The Butcher: What? Let me see... Damn, damn, damn! Doctor, spare the patient, show some mercy. Could you wait until we’re done eating before you make your move? Let’s make a deal: if you’re willing to call it off this time, I’ll take you to the Crimson Rose. Three days and three nights. Top-tier service. A new one every minute!]

[The Sailor: What? Butcher, you mean one minute each? Tsk tsk tsk, what a waste of that mighty and imposing appearance of yours. So you’re really just a coward?]

[The Butcher: What nonsense are you spouting? I meant for the doctor... ]

[The Sailor: So you mean the doctor is one minute per round?]

[The Butcher: That’s not what I said, I said—ahhh!! Doctor, please, have broad shoulders and great forbearance; pretend you saw nothing! I know you’re mighty and imposing, able to stand alone and take on ten women in one night, one day apiece, with absolutely no problem! You’re the fighter jet among men! This little brother’s admiration for you is like an endless river pouring on and on...]

[The Emperor: Are all of you stuffed with trumpets down there? What the hell are you shouting about in the middle of the night? Don’t you know this old man has insomnia and can’t sleep at night? Damn it, I’d finally just fallen asleep and you woke me up again. What are you all doing! Can’t you handle things in private chat? Do you all just love outdoor play that much?]

[The Queen: Hahaha, the old man likes outdoor play? What a filthy taste. Coincidentally, I like it too.]

[The Emperor: Get lost. I have nothing in common with a dairy cow like you. Speak, what are you all doing?]

[The Butcher: Old man, this is bad. The doctor is going to treat the Federation!]

[The Emperor: The doctor? Treat the Federation? Why? Why? Didn’t he say he couldn’t be bothered to get mixed up in this pile of rotten nonsense?]

[The Queen: Who knows how those idiot Federation fools managed to offend him? Anyway, they’re already on the doctor’s treatment list, and I think the Federation is dead for sure this time. Hey, old man, aren’t you sending anyone out to share the feast with us? Once the doctor starts treatment, all we’ll be able to do is pick through the corpses. But dragging dead bodies back is useless as hell!]

[The Sailor: It’s fine. They’re still useful while they’re warm. If it really comes to it, I don’t mind them cold either.]

[The Butcher: Heh. You’d even want patients after the doctor’s treatment? Didn’t know you had such bizarre tastes.]

[The Queen: Please stop talking. I feel sick just thinking about it...]

[The Butcher: ...Fine, let’s change the subject. Old man, think of a way too. Half of those slaves are coming back to you anyway!]

[The Emperor: You want me to think of a way? What way do I have? When have any of you ever listened to me? I’m not taking the blame for this. Do whatever you want. At most, I’ll add one more transport convoy for you. Don’t complain. Blackstone Group is short-handed right now, and that’s all I can do.]

[The Butcher: Fair enough. Better than nothing, at least... Hey, should we find a channel and inform the Federation, tell them that this bunch of idiots is on the doctor’s treatment list? If they run around a bit more, won’t we be able to catch even more slaves?]

[The Viper: ...Wouldn’t doing that count as helping the enemy?]

[The Queen: Helping the enemy my ass. We’ve been messing around for so long that the Federation’s outposts are already as skittish as startled birds, practically wanting to pull their heads into their shells. What good would telling them do? If anything, if those idiots were a little smarter, they’d save us a lot of trouble! I agree, Butcher. Leave this to you!]

[The Butcher: Oh, leave it to me. But make sure none of you leak this, all right? If the doctor finds out, I’m not done with him.]

[The Scorpion: ...Heh.]

[The Butcher: What are you heh-ing about?]

[The Scorpion: ...the chat log.]

[The Butcher: Holy hell, holy hell, holy hell!! Why the hell didn’t you say so sooner? Everybody, start spamming!]

Phelan paid no attention to the frenzied flood in the group. He had already seen the remarks from the others, but he did not care. Among the seven giants, none interfered with one another; what each chose to do was their own affair. Just as they would not abandon their own plan because of Phelan’s declaration, neither would Phelan abandon treatment because of their pleas. As a physician, healing the sick and saving lives was his sacred duty, and no one could deny that.

At this moment Phelan was seated on the sofa, watching the information before him scroll by ceaselessly. Afterward, he had set fire to Base Zero and reduced it to ashes. Everything inside had been destroyed; only the files and intelligence he had casually taken away remained. They recorded the experimental background of Base Zero, the course of the experiment, and its final objective. From those dense and tangled data, it was plain to see that the Federation had truly expended enormous effort on this project.

Regrettably, all of it had already gone up in smoke.

“What is it, Master?”

Seeing the faint smile at the corner of Phelan’s mouth, Delin, who stood nearby, could not help asking softly. At her question, Phelan merely shook his head, then extended a hand and swept it through the air before the screen. In an instant, with his motion, the scrolling text vanished at once, then condensed into a green data block that appeared in his hand. Looking at the block, Phelan gave a cold smile, then clenched his right hand hard. With that motion, the data block shattered and dissolved away.

“All right. With that, the Federation’s pathetic little research is thoroughly finished. Now then... Delin, take this down.”

“Yes, Master.”

At Phelan’s words, the cat-eared maid flicked one ear, then reached into her bosom and drew out a notebook, opening it. Phelan crossed his hands, leaning back comfortably into the sofa, narrowing his eyes as he spoke word for word.

“Patient: the Federation. Symptoms: intermittent violent urges, delusional disorder, and self-destructive tendencies. Diagnosis: excision surgery on the affected region. Proceed with treatment.”

“......”

As she wrote to the end, Delin paused slightly, then lifted her head curiously to look at Phelan.

“Master, have you decided to place the Federation on the treatment list?”

“Of course. Otherwise, why would I go to such lengths?”

Facing Delin’s question, Phelan smiled and spread his hands in answer.

“In my view, the Federation is already beyond saving. Only by cutting out the diseased flesh entirely can the rot be rooted out. Since I’ve decided to treat the Federation, then naturally I must see it through.”

“Understood.”

Hearing his reply, Delin nodded, then finished the last stroke in her notebook. She put it away, thought carefully for a moment, and only then asked, “Then... what about Miss Eluka and the others...?”

“Let them join the treatment team as well. It’s only a matter of time, after all.”

As he spoke, Phelan cast a meaningful glance toward the darkness outside the window.