"You look pale, with heavy dark circles and cold wrists," Lynn pressed on, his tone matter-of-fact. "Have you been feeling perpetually hungry lately—like no amount of food can satisfy you?"
The Pig-Headed Fiend hesitated, sinking back onto the stool. For all Lynn's absurdity earlier, this hit the nail on the head. He'd indeed been ravenous lately, even gorging himself uncontrollably yet never quelling the hunger.
"How did you know?"
Lynn's expression remained unchanged. He stood up, fetched a wooden basin from the back room, filled it with water, then pulled a vial of pale green potion from under the counter and poured it in.
Whoosh—
A wisp of green, skull-shaped smoke billowed fiercely from the basin.
Lynn clapped his hands. "This is Demon-Summoning Potion. Stick your hand in. If there's an evil spirit infestation or any other bizarre mutation inside you, this potion will reveal the truth."
The Pig-Headed Fiend shot him a skeptical glance, snuffling the air with his snout. Sensing no immediate danger, he tentatively dipped his hand into the basin.
In an instant, a cold chill surged upward from his abdomen.
"Th-This is! " His expression darkened sharply.
The basin's green water began to bubble violently, and wispy tendrils of malevolent black mist seeped from his body. Then, without warning, a sharp cramp twisted his stomach—and a grinning face bulged out from his belly.
"Giggle… Giggle… "
"Aaaah—Aaaah! " The Pig-Headed Fiend's fur stood on end, his eyes wide with terror (ΩДΩ). "My stomach! My stomach!! "
His belly contorted wildly, the grinning face writhing as if trying to crawl out. Gradually, beyond the face, two small, twisted hands bulged through his skin. Suddenly, the giggles morphed into shrill infantile cries.
"Waaah—Waaah— "
Witnessing this, the Pig-Headed Fiend was paralyzed with horror. "What the hell is that thing?! "
Bang—
Without hesitation, Lynn grabbed a nearby iron pan and smashed it down on the protruding face, flattening his belly with a dull thud. The cries and giggles cut off instantly.
Thud—
The Pig-Headed Fiend collapsed onto the stool, his expression vacant. "Th-This… this… "
Lynn pushed the basin aside, calm as ever. "Preliminary diagnosis confirmed: it's indeed an evil spirit-infested ectopic pregnancy. But judging by the pan's effect, this little demon isn't fully formed yet. You're lucky you found me."
This time, the Pig-Headed Fiend was utterly convinced. He dropped to his knees with a thud, trembling violently. "Little brother! I'm sorry for my earlier outburst—please forgive me! Save me! Please save me! "
He was truly terrified. He'd face a malicious spirit head-on without flinching, but an evil entity festering inside his own body? He was helpless against that.
Lynn held his quill steadily, asking, "Do you remember eating anything unusual? "
The Pig-Headed Fiend trembled. "A month ago, while out hunting, I ate a child—a small ghost. I swallowed it whole. Other than that, I only eat pork and human flesh."
Lynn fell into thought for a moment, then looked up seriously. "We'll operate and take a look."
...
Moments later, in the dim operating room.
Candles and bronze mirrors cast flickering light onto the Pig-Headed Fiend's greasy, bulging belly. He lay trembling on the operating table, his discomfort evident.
"You're just gonna operate on me like this?! Aren't you gonna run more tests?! "
Lynn pulled on his gloves and mask, calmly sterilizing a scalpel. "Strike while the iron's hot. Simple and brutal is the way to go. Trust my diagnostic skills and ethics. I'll make a small incision—if we can remove it, we will. If not… "
The Pig-Headed Fiend trembled. "I'll cut you to pieces! "
Lynn shook his head. He picked up the boning knife his master used, then began sharpening it right in front of the fiend.
Shink—Shink—
The Pig-Headed Fiend lay motionless, staring blankly at the iron hooks hanging from the ceiling and the jars of grotesque monster parts lining the walls. For no reason, he felt like a pig awaiting slaughter on a butchering block.
Shink—Shink—
Sparks flew as the blade was honed.
"Stop sharpening! Stop sharpening!! " The Pig-Headed Fiend screamed, his voice cracking as the ear-piercing grind sent shivers down his spine, the metallic tang of the blade mixing with the room's rot making his stomach churn.
"Almost done." Lynn rinsed the sharpened scalpel in antiseptic, the liquid fizzing softly against the blade; when he lifted it, the steel glinted menacingly, catching the candlelight to cast thin, cold shadows across the fiend's trembling belly.
He walked over to the fiend, pressing his ear to the greasy belly and listening intently. Then, with a steady hand, he took a pencil and drew a cross on the lower part of the Pig-Headed Fiend's stomach.
Lynn's voice was calm. "Are you ready? "
The Pig-Headed Fiend trembled. "R-Ready… "
Click—Click—Click—
Lynn pressed a button under the operating table. Four iron shackles snapped shut around the fiend's limbs.
"Aaaah—Aaaah! " The Pig-Headed Fiend screamed in terror (ΩДΩ), his body thrashing.
Lynn frowned, gripping the scalpel. "Stop yelling—I haven't even made the first cut. These shackles are to keep you from squirming and ruining the operation. It's for your own good."
The Pig-Headed Fiend trembled. "Have you ever operated on anyone before? "
Lynn continued sharpening the knife, the sound grating. "I watched my master butcher pigs. You're my first patient, but it's more or less the same. I'm quite confident in my surgical skills."
...
A tense silence fell.
"Aaaah—Aaaah! I don't want the operation! I don't want it! Let me go! Let me go!! " The Pig-Headed Fiend roared in terror (ΩДΩ), struggling frantically.
Lynn's eyes turned ferocious, and he shouted angrily. "Are you joking?! I've already sharpened the knife, and now you want to back out?! Do you want the evil spirit to grow bigger and burst out of your belly?! "
"Once you're on my operating table, I must take responsibility for you! You're having this operation—whether you like it or not! "
Squelch—
The scalpel sliced through his greasy flesh with a wet, sucking sound, dark red blood welling up instantly and oozing over Lynn's gloved fingers. The stench of warm, coppery blood mingled with the faint rot of the fiend's body, thickening the air in the operating room.
Aaaahhhhh—
The Pig-Headed Fiend's scream tore through the room, raw and guttural, as the blade dug deeper. His body strained against the shackles, clinking loudly, while sweat and blood soaked the operating table beneath him.
A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the room.
...
Half an hour later.
[Ding! +10 Knife Skill XP.]
[Ding! +10 Knife Skill XP.]
[Ding! +1 Surgery Level.]
The Pig-Headed Fiend lay motionless on the operating table, his body twitching uncontrollably. He'd lost count of how many times he'd fainted and woken up from the pain.
Then, suddenly—
"Waaah— "
A loud infant's cry reverberated through the operating room.
Lynn, his white coat drenched in dark blood, reached into the gaping incision and pulled out a tiny, underdeveloped blood infant—its skin translucent, veins pulsing faintly, and tiny claws scraping weakly at his blood-soaked gloves. It squalled uncontrollably, a high-pitched wail that grated against the ears. A satisfied smile crossed Lynn's face as he wiped sweat and blood from his brow with the back of his hand. "Congratulations—mother and daughter are safe."
A system panel appeared before him, displaying information about the infant.
[Unformed Evil Spirit Blood Infant]
[Race: Evil Spirit]
[Alignment: Chaotic Evil]
[Level: 1]
[Description: A malevolent spirit formed from resentment and ghostly qi, fused with the blood of countless creatures. Once fully formed, it will devour its host's soul and flesh, gradually growing into a calamity.]
The Pig-Headed Fiend stared blankly, muttering weakly. "S-Stitch me up… "