civilwarnovels Chapter 3371 Miraculous Doctor (5)
Chapter 3371 Miraculous Doctor (5)
Chapter 3371 Miraculous Doctor (Fifteen)
After a conversation with Schiller, Strange figured out one thing - Schiller's childhood was probably equivalent to a regular horror story.
Mysterious research institutes, armed guards, endless experiments and conspiracies...
The only problem is that Schiller wasn’t the victim of the rule paradox; he was the rule of the rule paradox. The victims were the researchers and the guards.
What's more frightening is that his rules are not clear. Because his mental state is not stable, he may be like this today and like that tomorrow. He may be fine one second and fall ill the next.
Although this research organization is very evil and mysterious, they are obviously an organization that pursues secular interests. This means that most of the workers they employ are ordinary people, but they are ordinary people who can accept to attack children and have a low moral bottom line.
There is no direct relationship between human morality and mental state. Having a low moral bottom line does not mean that they are crazy. They cannot understand crazy people, let alone Schiller, who even crazy people cannot understand, and who is said to be a proplusmax version of sick Schiller who is even more difficult to deal with than the current one.
Anyone who has done scientific research should know that sometimes, doing an experiment is not necessarily successful just because you have a good professional level and are rigorous enough. There is also some luck involved. Even the most powerful scientists cannot guarantee that they can get exactly the same results by doing the same experiment many times in a short period of time.
This is true for inorganic substances that don't change their properties easily, not to mention Schiller, a living person. His mental state is mainly random, and scientists' research on him is mainly a card drawing.
Moreover, among all the prize pools of mental states, harmless states are a minority, and the vast majority are harmful, and very harmful, the kind that may very likely cost you your life for science if you are not careful.
Moreover, this pool has no guarantee. Even if you draw 10,000 times, you may not be able to draw a useful card. Even if you occasionally draw a useful card, you can't develop it at all. You may be able to return to the state at any time, and it is not to return to the state before development, but directly to the state before drawing the card. If you draw the wrong card, you have to draw it again!
Strange could well imagine the collapse of these scientists. This was mainly a question of confidence.
In some science fiction novels, a physicist studies for a long time and finds that physics no longer exists, so he commits suicide.
In the research institute that kidnapped Schiller, the scientists studied Schiller for a long time and found that psychology, psychiatry, pathology, anthropology, sociology, and biology all no longer existed. They didn't even have the chance to commit suicide because they were killed by Schiller.
Strange sighed, mourned for them in his heart for half a second, and then asked: "Then how did you become a little more normal?"
"Although I know I should answer 'because of love' or something like that, the truth is that I met a scientist who just doesn't believe in superstition." Schiller laughed and said, "You have to be more paranoid than a paranoid person and crazier than a madman to have a chance of curing him."
Strange understood. As expected, there was nothing touching about any of Schiller's stories. They were all about madness, paranoia, and mutual torture.
After Schiller's experience, Strange thought about it and said, "Do you think it is because this child was tortured and went crazy that this became the rule in the world we live in now?"
Schiller knew he was referring to the words on the parchment, but he said anyway, "What do you mean? The whole game?"
"Almost. I just wonder why this happened?" Strange stood up from his chair. He walked to the operating table, sat on it, and then lay flat on it.
"Humans are naturally afraid of pain and desire freedom. Moreover, those people may have abused him. It is impossible for him to not have any resentment, but why would he retaliate by trapping the doctor here to work?"
Schiller had a flash of inspiration and said, "What is the most common complaint you hear among doctors in the hospital?"
Strange sat up abruptly, looked at Schiller, and said, "Too much work, difficult patients, too many tests, too many reports."
The two looked at each other and understood what the other was thinking.
"So this is his way of taking revenge on us?" Strange said helplessly, "Because he heard the doctors complain about being too busy, he locked us up here to work every day; because he heard complaints about difficult patients, he kept sending those difficult patients here."
"Because I heard doctors complain about the strict inspection of appearance, I made it mandatory to maintain appearance. Because some people complained about the too many reports to write, I made it mandatory to finish the reports every day."
"I can only say that this revenge is much scarier than in horror movies," Schiller said. "I haven't finished my report from yesterday. I have to get up and start writing it."
After that, he walked to the desk, dipped his ink in the parchment and began to write. As he wrote, he said, "But his imagination is quite limited. Or maybe medieval doctors were not very busy. If he knew you could perform 20 operations a day, he would have sent patients a day."
"I know you don't understand surgical work, but I didn't expect you to be so ignorant." Strange said while lying on the hospital bed, "The Hand of God is very busy. I am not responsible for physical work such as craniotomy, which is done by other doctors."
"I only do the most critical part, and then I carry the next one away. Forget 20 surgeries. My highest record is 48 surgeries in one day. Otherwise, where would I get more than 80 reports to fill in?"
Schiller gave him a thumbs up and said, "It's not easy to find so many patients."
"I don't just perform surgery on American patients. I get all the difficult cases from all over the world." Strange snorted disdainfully and said, "Do you think those few expedited cases you asked for will cause me any trouble? They are just my daily workload."
Schiller tutted his lips. He really admired Strange for this. After all, even if he didn't do the unimportant parts, the important parts were still very energy-consuming. Twenty hours of high concentration, otherwise why would the Ancient One take a fancy to him?
You only saw Doctor Strange using the dumbest method to fight Dormammu, but you never thought about how much work intensity this was. I can only say that Ancient One still has a sharp vision.
"I don't think I've ever been in your operating room." Schiller said after recalling, "That means your patients aren't that difficult to deal with. You're pretty lucky."
Strange was so angry that he laughed. He said, "I'm a neurosurgeon. Do you think a person with one-third of his brain missing can stand up and complain to me?"
"That's hard to say." Schiller shook his head and said, "Besides, I don't just cheer for the patients, I also cheer for the doctors."
"Last time, a patient came in holding one of his legs and frightened an intern. I had to work hard to calm him down. Don't you have any interns in your department who were frightened?"
"I don't want to be that timid... Wait. How did you get in here holding your legs?"
"That guy is a mutant. He can fly."
"Then how did he lose a leg?"
"That's the problem. He was hit by a skytrain." Schiller spread his hands and said, "Not only the intern nurse, but also the surgeon almost fainted when he saw his insurance policy. I comforted him for half an hour."
The two chatted while waiting for the dawn. When the morning light shone through the tiny window gap, Strange, who had just taken another nap, woke up from the operating table. Schiller, who had fallen asleep on the table after writing a report, also woke up.
"I think there's another benefit to our participation in this game," Schiller said, stretching himself. "We can fall asleep anywhere, which is a basic skill for doctors."
Strange obviously woke up faster than him. He turned around and found that the metal door behind him had been repaired. So he said, "It seems that the game has solved this problem. We have to work again."
"I hope to get some good stuff today... I mean, good patients." Schiller walked to the shelf and began to rummage around, putting all his gains from yesterday into a box, ready to sell them all to Caretaker Bear.
After the morning bell rang, the nurse did a routine check. He seemed to have known that the door of the metal passage had been repaired, and said to Schiller fiercely: "You'd better be honest and work quickly. If this happens again, I will deal with you personally."
"Don't worry, ma'am. This is yesterday's report. I forgot to give it to you." Schiller handed over the report and the nurse left quickly.
Schiller looked at his back and wondered what the nurse would look like based on their inferences yesterday.
Although she is acting very cruel now, it is obvious that the people she supervises are doctors. She is cruel to doctors, but not necessarily to patients.
Every doctor knows that head nurses behave aggressively not because they really like it, but because they have to intimidate medical staff and family members so that they can be responsible to the patients.
Schiller had to admit that he had a natural liking for the nurse. The nurse who took care of him was not a very good-tempered one, and she and Anatoly were even more incompatible. The limited Chinese and Russian they spoke were all practiced when they quarreled with each other.
After a while, Guard Bear came again. He stared at the box Schiller sent out in amazement, thinking he was hallucinating.
"God! What have you done?!" Guard Xiong's voice was trembling.
"Don't make a fuss. Take it away quickly before the nurse finds out," Schiller said. "Also, if you don't have what I want, can you help me buy it?"
"Well, I can't go out normally, but if it's important, you can try to ask Wood for help. He knows a lot of people, so maybe he can..."
Seeing Schiller's murderous gaze, the bear guard's voice became lower and lower. He said, "Okay, I know you don't like that wooden man. No one here likes him. But you have to respect him. He is the boss's spy."
Schiller's eyes rolled and he said, "What about the raven? If I give him some money, will he help me buy things?"
"You subscribed to newspapers from him? All right. You guys like to read those. But I have to warn you, he's not a simple guy. Some say he works for the town government and knows some high-ranking officials in Westchester. Don't offend him."
Schiller laughed dryly twice and said nothing more.
Guard Bear saw that his expression was not right, so he said, "You haven't already..."
Schiller looked down, and the bear caretaker followed his gaze and saw that in the box on the ground was a bunch of shiny raven feathers.
All eyes turned to me, and I announced something:
Today is my birthday!!! I am 27 years old!!!