Robert Vlaho
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[1% LIFESTEAL] Chapter 140 - Treatment
🕑 Added 2024-11-18 15:07:21 +0000 UTC[AUTHOR'S NOTE]
Hello there, boys and gals!
You might have noticed that I ended up skipping an upload last week, so I'd like to apologize for that! The recent chapters have been quite chunky and rather difficult to write, which has made it a bit tough to keep up. That being said, I assure you that my pace hasn't changed much, if at all. The chapters are just a lot longer than usual.
That being said, this is another big one, and we're officially entering the final stretch towards the finale of book 3! I'm not exactly sure how much longer the book will go on, but I'm somewhat confident that it will be finished by the end of the year.
With that out of the way, enjoy!
Have a good one!
Cheers!
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Many people mistakenly believed that the law was there to stop people from committing crimes. Or, even worse, believed that the law was there to enact justice for its own sake.
But both ideas were laughably misguided.
After all, if someone was to starve, they would steal, prison time be damned. If someone hated another to the point where they couldn’t accept continuing to live in the same world as that person, they’d kill them, even if they got executed for it. And, perhaps most commonly, if one’s ego was inflated beyond reason, they’d do crimes for the mere conviction that they were special—immortal in their perfection, immune to consequence and law alike; fully convinced they’d effortlessly get away with it.
The law wasn’t there to stop crime.
No.
It was there to stop revenge.
Any broadly applied justice system served but a single purpose—to minimize the escalation of conflict. An eye for an eye made the whole world blind—and brought anarchy upon a world the people in power preferred to see stable and susceptible to control.
It was no secret that the American Empire had three almost entirely separate legal systems—the first was for matters of the poor and powerless, the second for matters between the poor and the rich, and the third for matters of the powerful.
The first was enforced sloppily. The second was barely enforced at all.
But the third was enforced with absolute urgency.
If someone without power was slighted and wanted revenge, their means were minimal, and whatever damage they might cause was hardly something to sweat over.
But if someone with power, like Freddy, for example, was angry and felt like they needed to take matters into their own hands, the possible damage was catastrophic.
The early post-rift era, even to that very day, was plagued by terrible global mismanagement. Downfall after downfall had taught many lessons to those who were paying attention. There was a saying that those who failed to learn history were doomed to repeat it. And indeed, there were many instances where countries made the same mistakes made by their predecessors.
But if anything had changed in the Post-Rift Era, it was the fact that the people at the highest level of power didn’t have to catch up on their history lessons.
They were the ones who had made these mistakes, after all.
And those on the level of overlords had impeccable memory.
Laws were indeed applied unequally. And this was, at least sometimes, for good reason. Some rules were the only thing standing between stability and anarchy. The sanctity of imperial banks was a good example. But another equally important act was the Guaranteed Mutual Service Act.
In many towns and cities, there were factions that single-handedly owned a monopoly over a whole business sector. If there were several such factions in the same place and they happened to be mutual enemies, they were legally obliged to provide their service to each other, as enforced to the highest degree by the empire.
Before this was enforced, there were many cases where such factions became enemies, only for both of them to have to aggressively recruit and expand into each other’s sectors to acquire services they couldn’t do without. This often resulted in a small civil war that crippled entire cities.
Thus, Freddy walked to Strata’s clinic without fear. Naturally, he was still vigilant. But he wasn’t worried.
He had been stressed out about the possibility of Strata denying him service, but Thor had explained to him why that wouldn’t happen. Strata didn’t exactly have a choice. If they decided to arbitrarily refuse him just because he was from Valhalla, that could even be cause to call upon the adjudicators.
And nobody wanted the adjudicators to get involved.
It was still early in the day, and the fluttering snow gently swayed through the air at the behest of the kind dawn winds.
The closer Freddy got to the clinic, the more bottomless the pit in his stomach became. He was well within the time limit to get Sophia fixed up. But he didn’t know enough about the process to be confident that it would work.
He turned once, twice, and found himself standing before the clinic. It was a beautiful glass building, with several nurses standing outside and smoking in the fresh air. He nodded at them as he walked through the revolving door and entered the clinic.
The anxiety instantly spiked. He felt his own heart beating in his ears and a tightness pressed on his chest as if a bear was sitting on it. He breathed in large gulps, sucking in chestfuls of air as if he were drowning. His palms were sweating beneath his gloves, and he rubbed his hands. They were surprisingly cold.
He stepped before the office of the lead doctor and knocked. Then he entered.
The man appeared physically ill upon seeing Freddy. He forced a tight smile and nodded stiffly. “Welcome, Mr… Mr. Cliff. We are ready to go whenever you please.”
“Let’s get it over with. Just a heads up—I’m going to be standing aside as you do the procedure.”
“You… I hope you are joking,” the man muttered nervously. “We don’t permit—”
“I don’t care, man. I’m going to be in there whether you let me or not. Now let’s go.”
“Oh… Alright… I guess…” The man chuckled nervously. “Follow me.”
That doctor led the way to the operating room. A team of clinic staff members was already waiting. They looked surprised to see Freddy enter but didn’t comment on it.
Freddy was given a gown and a hair net and instructed to wait in the corner. He was also politely asked to remain quiet so as to not distract them while performing the procedure. He was also warned that he was about to witness a very graphic process and was urged to reconsider staying inside.
He decided to remain and watch.
Sighing, the staff could only nod and accept his decision.
He handed them the jar containing Sophia’s head.
They delicately extracted it and placed it on the operating table.
She was shriveled, almost pickled. The surface of her skin was a deep, brown color, almost like the mummified flesh of a dried corpse. Her eyes were sunken and shriveled, leaking a strange magenta liquid from the corners.
Slowly, they dried the skin's surface and sealed the neck shut with a metallic plate. The plate had numerous holes through which they inserted several tubes transporting colorful liquids.
Sophia’s head had grown a bit of hair, but it was very short and completely white. Every hair appeared thin and delicate, almost like a thick peach fuzz.
As the liquid slowly seeped into the head, Freddy watched Sophia’s face slowly fill back in. Her cheeks puffed back out, and her wooden skin slowly regained the slightest hue of green-tinged paleness.
Freddy had seen plenty of horrible stuff, so the sight didn’t affect him too badly. But as the procedure finally started in full, he felt his anxiety go into overdrive.
Over a dozen clinic staff members participated in the process.
The first step was administering a lot of healing directly to the head. From medicines to holy-affinity abilities, this was by far the part with the most care and effort invested in it. A whole day of work was spent on just the head, and by the end, she finally regained some color and actually looked like an ordinary human being.
Given what they were saying, they were satisfied with how her head was recovering. Her eyesight would be a bit poor, but she would regain her hearing perfectly. They also discovered no signs of severe brain damage, but that didn’t mean that there wasn’t any; it just meant that they didn’t find it.
As for the details of anything other than her brain, Freddy wasn’t particularly concerned. As long as she woke up and knew who she was, she could use her talent to heal herself back to perfection.
Next, he watched them detach the metal plate and start on her skeleton. The reconstruction of just her spine was the second longest part of the process. It took half a day of work. After that, they slowly reconstructed the cardiovascular system using a transplanted heart as the basis.
Freddy winced as he realized they would be using organ transplants but didn’t comment on it. Even though he knew exactly where those organs were coming from, what was he supposed to do? Tell them to stop the procedure? He swallowed his discontentment and kept his mouth shut.
The parts of her body were slowly reconstructed one by one. They used a lot of supernatural-quality healing, but very little of it was directed into regrowing actual tissue. It was mostly used to fill in the blanks and seamlessly fuse the parts. This was hardly a surprise. Supernatural-quality healing produced vastly inferior tissue. Transplants were far more reliable.
The process would last a total of four days. During this period, Freddy didn’t sleep a wink, nor did the lead doctor.
It really seemed to be going well, from what he could tell. By virtue of pure exhaustion, the feeling of anxiety had dissipated and turned into nothing but a dull ache at that point. Soon, it would be over.
But as they finally reached the final stages of reconstructing the limbs, something went wrong.
“Doctor!” a nurse called. “There is a problem! Left arm tissue is rapidly decaying!”
“What!?” the lead doctor shouted as he rushed to check what was happening.
Freddy perked up, too, feeling the pit reopen in his stomach. His hands shook.
The clinic staff fretted about the arm for a few minutes, but in the end, they couldn’t discover what was causing the problem.
In the end, they had to sever Sophia’s left arm.
Up to this point, Freddy wasn’t worried about anything other than her brain. But something was very, very wrong with her.
The procedure continued, however, it wasn’t without even more problems. Just as with her left arm, just as they were about to complete the left leg, it also began withering away, as if some form of divine decree didn’t allow her to own either a left arm or a left leg.
They were forced to do yet another amputation.
Freddy watched the process, feeling numb and afraid.
At this point, the lead doctor finally stepped away and walked up to him. “Mr… Mr. Cliff… I must ask you, did this woman, to your knowledge, possess a spirit ability?”
Freddy’s eyebrows jumped. “No… Not that I knew of it.”
“I see…” the man muttered and sighed. “This, to me, looks like Ethereal Restriction.”
Freddy’s stomach dropped as soon as he heard that.
Ethereal Restriction was, in a way, the exact opposite of Ethereal Mercy. There were many spirit abilities that required a whole limb as a cost for using them. But this wasn’t as simple as cutting a limb off—it meant losing the ability to possess that limb altogether. Not even supreme-quality healing could do anything about this. And it wasn’t just a spirit ability that could cause this, either.
“If it isn’t a spirit ability, then…” the doctor muttered, “it must be severe soul damage.”
A near-total numbness spread through Freddy’s body as he heard those words.
“At any rate, Mr. Cliff, we’ve done all we could. I advise you to temper your expectations.”
“I understand,” he answered numbly.
Part by part, the healing continued. There were no more mishaps.
On the fourth day, they finally finished her treatment. It was only a matter of waiting for her to wake up, which could take days or even… might not happen at all.
She was transported to a private care room. Freddy sat beside her, waiting for her to open her eyes. A day passed. Then two. Then three. For a whole week, he didn’t sleep a wink. Beating the spark no longer helped. Nothing helped. He felt numb and tired. And he was slowly losing hope.
But on the dawn of the fourth day of waiting, something finally happened.
Her finger twitched.
Freddy’s head jumped, and he leaped off the chair. “Sophia!” he called. “Are you awake?” He gently grabbed her right hand and squeezed it. “Please…”
She slowly cracked an eye open.
“Oh, thank fucking…” He breathed out, feeling as if a huge weight had fallen off his shoulders. But just as he felt the pang of relief, anxiety set in yet again. “Sophia…” he called.
“Mmmh…” she moaned and winced in pain as she turned her head to face him. Her mouth flapped like that of a fish, and she squinted her eyes.
“Do you remember me?” he asked.
She stared at him with an empty look for a long few moments. Then…
She slowly shook her head.
“I see… I’m… I’m Freddy,” he said, trying to force a smile. “Freddy Stern. I changed my face a bit, so you probably don’t recognize me…?” he asked hopefully, but…
She shook her head again.
“That’s all right,” he said, forcing himself to remain positive. “You’re probably still a bit confused, haha… I’ll fill you in on what happened. For now, we’re going to leave the hospital, okay?”
She simply kept staring at him, remaining quiet.
“Nurse… Nurse!” Freddy called.
He told the nurse that Sophia was awake, and she called the lead doctor. The man rushed over to examine Sophia. For the most part, she seemed to be fine. Her motor skills were intact, and she wasn’t showing any other signs of brain injury.
It was possible that her amnesia was temporary. Nothing could be done about the soul damage, however.
She was cleaned and dressed, and within a few hours, they were allowed to go.
Given that Freddy couldn’t prove that he was related to her and that she didn’t recognize him, the staff should have stepped in to stop him from just taking her and leaving. But they had no real power to prevent him from doing so regardless, so they let them go without causing any trouble.
She was put into a wheelchair. Despite the extensive care and the numerous procedures, she still looked awful. While her body was mostly intact, she curled up on herself and clearly struggled to use her limbs. Even if she remembered how to use her talent… or even could use it anymore, she wouldn’t immediately regain her muscle memory. She kept looking around with a dull, dazed look in her eyes.
She still hadn’t spoken a single word.
Pushing Sophia forward in her wheelchair, Freddy left the clinic and called Thor. Thor sent one of the drivers to pick them up, and Freddy took her to Valhalla, where she was given a room. This was the only place she would be safe, and there was staff to take care of her.
Before leaving, Freddy spent hours trying to teach her how to use her talent. He explained what she was supposed to do and showed her the spark over and over. Every time she failed to remember, he got more angry. Then he raised his voice.
The sight of her jumping back in abject terror tore a hole straight through Freddy’s heart.
He excused himself and left her alone.
Thor rang him up afterward, and Freddy visited his office.
“So…” the man called. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said casually. “Nothing out of the expected happened.”
“Is she… Is she your…?”
“No,” Freddy denied. “We’re just friends. Barely even that, honestly,” he said with a chuckle. “Besides, it’s too early to really say anything. I’ll give her some time; she’ll probably remember a few things. But, you know, I’m honestly just happy to see her alive. Not many could boast that they recovered from being just a head.” He laughed again.
Thor scowled. “I see… Anyway, uh”—the man looked over to a pile of papers—”I wasn’t going to bother you with this, but we have a hit tonight. There’s some sort of human trafficking station in town, and from what we can tell, they aren’t directly tied to any of the local forces.”
Freddy raised an eyebrow. “Oh? That’s a surprise.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure exactly what’s happening. But, there are signs that this is related to some faction from one of the neighboring cities. While I’m not sure exactly whose toes we’d be stepping on by taking them out, we don’t have much of a choice. We must take the stance that outside forces aren’t welcome meddling with Repentawa affairs. If we don’t do something, we’d be inviting more trouble.”
“And you want me to come?”
“Not want as much as need,” Thor said seriously. “They have a three-star with them.”
Freddy’s eyebrows jumped. “Really?”
Thor raised a hand. “It’s an early three-star, but still. From what we know, you and Travis should have no trouble taking care of him. Usually, I’d do it, but there’s a chance that this is a trap and that someone more powerful is waiting to step in. I’d like to be prepared for that. We were going to go tomorrow, but if you want, we can postpone so—”
“It’s fine,” Freddy said. “Really. We’ll go tomorrow.”
Thor winced. “I’d tell you to take some time off, but I’ll really need you on board this time. Take some time to cool off. Go to sleep.”
“Yeah,” Freddy chuckled. “I could use some.”
Without even heading home, Freddy simply headed to the closest free room and fell on the bed. He slept for 17 hours straight. And for the rest of the waiting, he did some reading to take his mind off things.
The scheduled raid arrived soon enough.
Everyone got into position to raid the small building. Freddy was in the vanguard as usual.
The scouts gave the signal, and everyone charged.
Freddy bolted forward. He punched through a wall and leaped inside, conjuring all his weapons. He threw a javelin straight through a man and cleaved three others with his sword.
“Freddy, wait for me to catch up! Out!” Travis said in the comms.
Freddy ignored him.
With a furious shout, he punched through another door and charged into a room. There, standing surrounded by ten others, was the three-star. He was a burly man equipped with a thick spear, shaven bald, and tattooed on one side of his head. He smirked as he watched Freddy jump into the room.
“What the fuck are you doing!?” Travis shouted into the comms.
Yet again, Freddy ignored him. He charged forward, only for the ten men to raise their weapons and cast their abilities. A fireball struck him dead center, spikes tore into his legs, and arrows struck his armor. He was surrounded on all ends and pelted by one attack after another. His sword was smashed into pieces, and he was knocked to the ground.
The whole room was full of smoke and flying debris. Freddy was dead silent and unmoving.
“Fucking moron,” the three-star mocked as he chuckled.
However, his smile froze on his lips as he watched Freddy suddenly jump back to his feet and lunge forward.
“Bastard!” the man shouted, raising his spear to stab right through Freddy’s chest. The weapon landed, breaking through the trenchcoat and impaling Freddy through the heart. But Freddy ignored the weapon and triggered a double-star Flowing Strike instead. With a massive shout, he swung his katar fist right at the center of the man’s body.
The bloody blade sank into the armor, breaking off in the process, and the force of the punch crushed the plating into dust. Blood rushed through the three-star’s mouth as he was sent flying back into a wall, his weapon still stuck in Freddy’s chest.
Freddy tore the weapon out of his torso and jumped forward again.
Before the man could regain his composure, Freddy threw another Flowing Strike, and another, and another. The building shook, deafening thuds echoed through the room, dust flew into the air, and the sound of his fist crushing bone echoed rhythmically.
The whole wall caved, and the three-star flew into the room on the other side, coughing sputtering coughs and twitching as his gored chest sprayed blood.
With a twirl, Freddy created another Sanguine Beheader and swung the sword down, decapitating the man and ending the fight.
By the time the smoke cleared, the ten dazed combatants witnessed the sight of a beaten, bleeding man standing over their dead leader and gaped in terror.
Freddy didn’t wait for them to react. He ran back, leaping through another burst of fire and projectiles, swinging his sword through the dust and smoke right into a man’s head. The blade struck the man’s ear, and the force of the blow made his whole head explode inside his helmet.
A moment later, the other Valhalla combatants flew into the room and joined the fray.
Suddenly, a sound came from the corner of the room. It was about as loud as a whisper, but Freddy noticed it immediately and braced himself. He swung his head aside, only for a shortsword to fly right past it. With an inhuman reaction speed, he reached behind his back and grabbed the assailant by the arm. Judging by the thickness of the arm, it was a woman.
Activating a double-star Hydraulic Flex, he pulled the black-clad, masked woman over his shoulder and slammed her into the ground, right into a pile of rubble. Her arm twisted uncomfortably, and she screamed, but Freddy kicked her right in the head and swung his sword down with all his might, breaking her ribs and kicking the air out of her lungs.
He watched the three stars light up in her chest as shadowy tentacles swiftly reached to tie him up. He could do nothing to defend himself. They coiled around him and then flung him across the room, slamming him into the wall near the ceiling and causing him to plummet to the ground.
The woman slowly struggled to get back up to her feet.
Meanwhile, Freddy took a deep breath and flexed. With an almost wet, loud tearing sound, he ripped the shadow binding into shreds and got up.
The woman froze in terror as he quickly conjured a Blood Javelin and threw it right at her head. She had tried to dodge, but with her injuries and the sheer speed of the projectile, it reached her before she could get out of the way, piercing right through her skull and killing her on the spot.
A second later, Thor came rushing through the ceiling, only to see both of the three-stars dead. He fell to the ground and immediately turned to face Freddy. An expression of anger flashed through the slit in his helmet, but he took a breath and calmed himself.
The rest of the men were already either dead or tied up. The members of Valhalla who had just witnessed Freddy brutally murder two three-stars stared at him with awe and disbelief.
Thor slowly walked up to Freddy and put a hand on his shoulder. “Take a week off, man.”
“I’m fine,” Freddy growled.
“You’re not fucking fine, dude. You aren’t fine.”
Freddy was about to retort, but he felt his throat tighten. His voice failed to come. He closed his mouth shut and headed outside.
***
When they first arrived in Ottawa, Mark believed that it would take a long while for them to establish themselves. He didn’t expect Basilisk to have a whole business organization up and running in less than a month.
Harold Maskaart was an old monster in every way. Be it his personal power or his means, he was a beast in human skin. There was nothing this man was unwilling to do to acquire more power.
Mark stood aside at first, closely watching the man at work.
But then he received the news that his sister was being bullied at school, and that she was lacking resources. This was the first time he got involved.
First, he beat the shit out of a man who was interfering with their business. Sure, the man needed money to have his young daughter treated, but he was still an enemy and a terrible person. Besides, Mark had a simple mantra to chase all the self-doubt away.
I don’t really have a choice.
Bit by bit, he kept encroaching upon his moral values. It was always a small shift, a tiny push forward. And he supposedly never had any choice in the matter.
But by the time he found himself holding a woman’s son hostage to get her to spill her company secrets, he already knew that he was lying to himself.
On one lovely morning, he woke up feeling fantastic. Beautiful morning sunlight filled his room with warmth. The beautiful sound of birds chirping came from hidden speakers installed all throughout his room. He got up and stretched a bit, then lit a scented candle and meditated.
Once done, he entered the toilet. There, he saw himself in the mirror. His square-pupiled eyes blinked, and he opened a drawer. He took out a small box and opened it, extracting his special lenses. He put them on, and just like that, his eyes went back to looking normal again.
He was looking fresher and more handsome than ever. His beard was trimmed to a stubble and nearly groomed. His jawline was sharper than a sword.
Gently, he applied some cream on his skin and a special ointment on his beard. His skin shimmered with a pleasant light and his beard almost appeared to thicken slightly. Even peak three-stars could use a bit of self-care to look their best.
He gelled his hair and combed it back, splitting it down the middle. He looked slick and formal. He took a few minutes to practice the smile he routinely kept on his face.
Just like this, he left his apartment and headed to Basilisk’s office.
“Mark, my man!” Harold greeted him. “You’re looking good!”
“What’s up, old snake?” Mark greeted Basilisk with a smile as he approached and sat on the chair.
“I’m doing fine, thank you for asking,” Basilisk responded cheekily.
The two of them chatted for a few minutes, catching up on their business affairs. Mark had been opening his own businesses lately. He was sticking to strictly legal operations as he lacked Basilisk’s expertise, but he was still raking in quite a bit of money.
He really didn’t expect that Ottawa would be such a wealthy city. Naturally, it couldn’t compare to the average city in the empire, but it was still surprisingly competitive. Also, it turned out that being practically the most powerful person in nearly the entire region allowed one to earn a lot of money. Who would have thought?
As they kept chatting, Basilisk suddenly mentioned something strange. “One of the branches we recently set up in a neighboring city was hit and completely destroyed.”
“What? Which city?”
“Repentawa.”
Comments
Damian
Hey, so is it a plot hole when Mark looks in the mirror and has to put in the contact lenses? I remember he had surgery to insert them under the cornea and the other 2 couldn't hide their eyes because the lenses would instantly decay. Did his decay as well just at a much slower speed?
Random Guy
And he already survived one sure death most likely losing the arm in the process.
Angelico Pezzullo
The cult leader had the same arm problem
Uroš
I think it is assumed she has been possessed or something due to the soul damage and her not remembering Freddy.
BrandyLeeT
sorry did I miss something how is she mind controlled?
Gio
He is stressed about Sophia. Plus she is being mind controlled, he might not know this exactly but he must be sensing that something is wrong and it's stressing him out.
Uroš
So Freddy has been going to therapy for about half a year, but is he getting any better? In that last raid, he seemed even worse off than before...
Uroš
I hope not. I liked the girl, however short her appearance was.
jj
I hope there isn't a redemption arc for Mark. Dude deserves whatever's coming to him.
Kai
That makes it 5 or 6 *** he killed?
Kai
But what about her leg? Had the cult leader only one?
Gio
He should get that psychologist guy to do his mind healing on Sophia. Also, cult leader might have jacked Sophia's mind/body.
Kuraiji
Man take your time, your story is amazing. If you need to slow down then do it, if you're being extra productive then go wild. We will be happy as long as you write
DuskDeadman
The left arm isn't healing, the cult leader might have jacked her body.
DuskDeadman
Oh nooooo
atgongumerki
I am taking bets how long it takes them both zo recognise each other
Angelico Pezzullo
Omg is the cult leader now in the girls body ?
Beeees!
This is a reunion long time coming
Beeees!
Freddy is not okay, but his enemies are more not okay
Robert Blaise
I'd prefer to remain transparent and keep everyone updated! I know how much it sucks to not know what the author is up to and whether or not you'll get the chapter any time soon. :)
atgongumerki
Dude chill, we are what? 6 chapters ahead of shedule? Why are you apologising?
Hazer0508
TFTC
