Chapter 46. Doctor
With beads of cold sweat on his forehead, Charles took a sip of water. He turned his gaze toward his crew member, "Thanks, James."
The burly man, James, flashed his usual good-natured smile. "That's what I should do anyway. You are our captain after all."
"Please gather the others. We need to discuss our next steps."
"Alright," James answered and exited the room.
We are finally in Sottom… Charles slowly laid himself back down on the bed. A hint of relief crept onto his exhausted visage. Putting the process ahead, he was one step closer to home now.
Cough!
A sudden coughing sound prompted Charles to instinctively reach for his revolver holster.
Propping himself up on the bed, he turned to see an old man at the doorway. He donned a dirt-stained white coat and was holding a wooden cup in his metal prosthetic arm.
But compared to his countenance, the rest of his eccentric appearance was nothing but normal.
A myriad of scars etched deep on his originally wrinkled face. It looked as though a piece of mirror had been shattered and pieced back together. On this nightmarish visage, two yellowed eyes move incessantly. His gaze looked eccentric too.
The old man seemed oblivious to Charles' move toward his weapon as he limped toward the bed with a rhythmic clicking sound. It was then that Charles realized that even his left leg was a metal prosthetic limb.
"Drink it, don't chew." The old man instructed briefly in a voice fitting of his appearance as he placed the cup in his hand down on the bedside table.
Charles picked up the cup and peered into its contents. There seemed to be some living creature wriggling within the black liquid.
"Were you the one who saved me? Thank you. I thought I was going to die from that severe injury." Charles expressed his gratitude before he lifted the cup to his lips, tilted his head back, and downed the contents in one shot.
Instantly, a bitter taste that was even more bitter than the infamous Chinese herb, the Chinese goldthread, flooded Charles' mouth. The living creatures within the concoction seemed to have a prickly surface. They brushed against his throat, leaving a harsh sting, as they went down his gullet. He felt like he had just swallowed a stone wrapped in sandpaper.
"Your physical injuries are nothing compared to the damage in your head." The old man turned around and squatted down. Using his metal hand, he seemed to be searching for something from the jars lying around.
"Are you referring to the auditory hallucinations?"
"Hah! Auditory hallucinations? If it were just hallucinations, I'd chop off my other hand right now!" The old man's voice was laced with mockery.
Charles had to admit that the old man was spot on. His auditory hallucinations had worsened to become visual ones, with everything living around him morphing into grotesque monsters. Charles had no idea what would happen if his condition worsened further, but he was certain it wouldn't be pleasant.
The old man didn't mince his words, but Charles could understand the underlying meaning behind them. "Do you have a cure? Money is not an issue."
The old man turned and approached charles. Staring at Charles with his trembling eyeballs, he asked, "What's your name?"
"Charles."
"Last name?"
Charles leaned back to widen the gap between him and the old man. "Just call me Charles."
The old man extended his metal arm and said, "Laesto Hermann. I don't appreciate people younger than me calling me Laesto. You can call me Doctor."
Charles extended his right hand and took the cold metallic hand into a firm grip. "Thank you. Regarding my auditory hallucinations—"
Before Charles could complete his sentence, Doctor interrupted him. "I can treat your condition. In the entire Sottom, my healing methods are the most effective. As for the compensation, I don't need Echo. I want that black mirror in your breast pocket. "
Charles instantly understood what he was referring to. He fished out the smartphone that ran out of battery out of his breast pocket.
"Do you mean this?" Charles asked.
The moment Laesto laid his eyes on the smartphone, his gaze shone with undisguised desire. "Yes. That's it. Such a well-preserved item is a rarity. I want it!"
Charles looked down at the device and his own reflection in the darkened screen. "Why do you want it? Do you know what this is?"
"No, I don't. But my intuition is telling me that it's special. My sixth sense is usually accurate."
Charles hesitated. This was the only item that came along with him when he was transported to this world. It contained photos of his family members.
He wasn't particularly attached to the smartphone, but he had heard rumors that the arcanists could curse someone through their belongings. Who knew what this old man would do to his phone?
While Charles was deep in contemplation, the room door was pushed open. The crew of the Narwhale flooded into the room in excitement. Lily even directly leaped onto Charles.
"Captain! You finally came around!"
"Mr. Charles!"
"Captain, it's great to see that you are fine."
Charles's gaze landed on Laesto Hermann who was slowly making his way out through the crowd.
"Doctor, let me think about it. I'll let you know after I've decided," Charles said as he placed his smartphone back into his breast pocket.
Laesto scanned the room before he limped toward the doorway.
"Better make a decision soon. I don't really care either way but your mind won't hold out much longer."
Charles then turned his gaze on Bandages at the edge of the room.
"First Mate, report the casualties," Charles said.
"Two sailors dead… One… sacrificed. Second Engineer lost a limb. Others… various degrees of injuries. Captain almost dead…"
The situation was better than what Charles anticipated. He thought he would have to replace half of his crew after that battle.
Looking around the room, Charles asked in doubt, "Where's that kid, Dipp? He's not dead, right?"
The crew's gazes turned toward the wooden door in the distance. A silhouette stood outside of the door.
"Dipp, come here."
Dipp stepped through the door. His face was battered and bruised and he was also wrapped up in bandages.
"What happened to your face?" Charles asked.
"I beat him up. The kid deserves it," Chef Frey spat as he lifted his arm as though he wanted to strike Dipp again.
With his eyes red, Dipp knelt on the floor. Remorse was written all over his face.
To Dipp, Charles was almost like half a father. But yet, he had nearly killed this fatherly figure of his. Sorrow and guilt weighed down heavy on his heart. If Charles had died because of him, he would never have been able to forgive himself.
"You won't be paid for this mission. Case closed."
Dipp looked up in astonishment. He thought he would be kicked off the Narwhale and had to return to roaming the streets once again. The Captain decided to let him off that easily?
"Remember this lesson. Don't let anyone make use of you again."
Charles had his own plans. Dipp might be somewhat gullible, but after all, he had shown Dipp the ropes from the first day the latter embarked on his seafaring journey. Dipp held utmost loyalty toward him. Also, death was common among sailors, so it was crucial to have loyal ones.
Not having a loyal crew was an extremely terrifying thought. If his crew had all been disloyal ones, they would have thrown their dying captain overboard when faced with the same situation. After that, they could sell the ship and split the gains.
Tears flowed down Dipp's cheeks as he nodded vigorously. He made a silent vow to himself that he would never allow such a thing to happen again.
Charles' gaze turned from Dipp and onto Conor. "Have you moved the gold from the wooden ship?"
"Yes. There's a place in Sottom that buys wrecked ships. I sold the wooden ship too. After settling everything, we got 1.54 million Echo. That old dude took three hundred thousand for the treatment cost. Also, we found something else in the ship apart from the gold."
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