"Guess what? There's a clinic here, even though it looks pretty tiny. I hope it's not some shady place," Jack muttered to himself.
On Baka Street, Jack, the lizardman, stood a few feet away from the small clinic, which had a simple signboard that read "Clinic." His face was a mix of hope and doubt.
"Sss! This hurts like hell! If I don't get my hand treated soon, it's gonna be toast!"
"If I lose my hand, no lizard lady is ever gonna look twice at me. My life's over!"
"But I only have three copper coins in my pocket. If I can't pay for the treatment, will they beat me up?" Jack held up his scaly left arm with his right hand, his face twisted in pain and worry.
Last night, he'd been ambushed for the 81st time in the Abyss. He'd won, but he still couldn't figure out why those shadowy creeps always went after him—a big guy with thick armor but no money to speak of.
This time, though, he'd been hit, and his left arm was a mess. When the iron rod bent, he'd heard the sickening crack of breaking bones.
This wasn't the kind of injury that would heal with a good night's sleep.
As soon as the sun came up, Jack, unable to sleep and in agony, hit the streets looking for help.
In the Abyss, being weak was a death sentence. As an orc mercenary, losing an arm would seriously weaken him, making it impossible to keep up with his job.
Without his job, he'd end up like those shadowy creeps—fallen and forgotten.
Jack had heard about the small clinic on Baka Street from other mercenaries. Being a mercenary was a high-risk job, and getting hurt was a common thing. Some injuries could be fixed with a few bottles of hemostatic potions, but others needed a doctor's help.
There were seven or eight hospitals in the Abyss, each backed by some powerful force. They all had healing mages who could handle most injuries, but the fees were sky-high! Even a minor injury could bankrupt a mercenary.
Jack was already broke before he even thought about going to a hospital. Running away without paying was like asking for death.
The small clinic on Baka Street was different. It was run by a human with no backing. This human didn't know magic, only potions. They were even said to perform surgeries using some weird methods that sometimes worked.
The best part? They offered credit!
Jack had three copper coins in his pocket, and he wanted to keep them for breakfast. If he could get treatment on credit, he could wait until his arm healed, then take on missions to earn money and pay back the debt.
After some internal debate and realizing he had no better options, Jack finally walked up to the clinic door and knocked.
The clinic door opened quickly, revealing a female orc who was the doctor's assistant. She was dressed in a black gown, and two beast ears poked out from her black hair, looking pretty cute.
"Are you the doctor?" Jack looked up in confusion, glancing at the signboard. Didn't they say this was a clinic run by a human?
"No, I'm Dr. Sherlock's assistant. How can I help you?" Vivian quickly replied, her voice trembling a bit. It was her first time working at the reception, so she was a little nervous.
"Yeah, my life's ruined!" Jack nodded quickly.
"Huh?" Vivian looked at him, confused.
"I mean, my hand's broken. If it can't be fixed, my life's over," Jack raised his left hand and winced in pain.
"Come on in," Vivian stepped aside to let him in, her eyes turning to Sherlock.
If it were just a fracture, she could easily heal him with a healing spell.
But Sherlock didn't know any healing magic, and there were no intermediate options available at the counter for treating fractures.
So, how was he gonna handle this patient?
As soon as Jack entered, he saw a young human, fair-skinned and looking kinda delicate.
Ugh! He didn't like this type!
His hopes for the future now rested on this scrawny human, which made him a little uneasy.
He remembered some rumors that mercenaries who entered this clinic never came out again.
"Doc, please save me!" Jack mustered up the courage to look at Sherlock and said.
"Have a seat," Sherlock motioned for the tall lizardman to sit on a stone bed nearby and said, "Tell me about your injury."
Sherlock was satisfied with Vivian's reception, which let him focus more on treating the patients.
In front of him stood a lizardman over eight feet tall, covered in yellow-brown scales, and it looked like his left hand was broken.
"I got ambushed last night... uh, it was a sneak attack. I blocked an iron rod with my arm, and it seems like it broke." Jack held up his left hand, wincing in pain from the movement.
Sherlock reached out and touched his left hand. The tiny scales, the size of fingernails, felt ice-cold to the touch, hard and devoid of any sensation.
As an experienced veterinarian, he'd never treated a lizard's fracture before!
He couldn't tell anything by touch, but the visibly displaced arm of the lizardman indicated that he did indeed have a fracture, and a bad one at that.
Fracture surgery wasn't a major operation, and Sherlock had performed many fracture surgeries on cats and dogs, gaining some experience in this field.
Of course, he wasn't sure if this experience would apply to a lizardman.
According to the diary's records, his predecessor, Sherlock, had performed numerous fracture surgeries on patients.
Of course, the success rate was still pretty low, often resulting in amputations during the process.
"It's a fracture, but I can't confirm the internal condition, so I need to make an incision and take a look before determining the reduction and fixation based on the situation," Sherlock frowned, as without imaging assistance, the uncertainty of the surgery would be greatly increased.
"Make an incision?!" Jack was seriously shocked.
How could this guy talk about such a terrifying procedure so casually?!
"Yeah, in your case, surgery is necessary for treatment," Sherlock said seriously.
"Can't it be treated with magic or potions?" Jack whispered.
Sherlock shook his head and said, "If you need healing magic, I'm afraid I can't help you. You can go to other hospitals for treatment."
Jack's lips twitched. If he had the money to go to a big hospital, would he even be here?
"Is the surgery gonna be really painful?" Jack asked cautiously.
"The process might hurt a bit, but it shouldn't be a big problem for you," Sherlock looked at the thick-skinned lizardman and thought that cold-blooded creatures might not be so sensitive to pain. After all, lizards were tough characters known to sacrifice their tails for survival.
"Is the surgery gonna guarantee that I keep my left hand?" Jack still had concerns.
Sherlock shrugged and said, "I can't make any guarantees. The success of the surgery and how you take care of it afterward will both affect the outcome."
Jack felt uneasy. This guy seemed a bit shady. But the pain in his arm was unbearable, and he had no other choice. He gritted his teeth and said, "I'll do it!"