Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics-Chapter 4334 - 3429: Divine Doctor with Wonderful Hands (36)

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After tossing the wrench, Stark realized what he hit. He quickly withdrew his hand and looked at the completely transformed triage area, sheepishly smiling as he said, "Sorry about that, just came to take a look. Carry on..."

Without looking back, he ducked back into the passage, pretending not to see Shiller's rolling eyes.

Strangely enough, Stark was scared of ghosts. As one of the world's finest scientists and even a rare Iron Man in the Multiverse who has mastery over magic, he was afraid of ghosts.

Shiller knew in particular he was terrified of jump scares. Such sudden shocks could make him swear his lifelong inventory of obscenities, then furiously destroy everything in sight.

Yet he refused to admit he was afraid of ghosts. When Peter was playing a horror game, he just had to go over and watch. Peter wasn't even startled yet, but he was already jumping three feet in the air.

Shiller turned his gaze back to the dried corpse, pondering for a moment before saying, "I believe you can see that I'm not afraid of you. All these special effects, aside from wasting your own energy, serve no other purpose. How about this, light the lamp, make some late-night snack, and let's have a good talk."

The charred figure stood still. Shiller heard a young girl's ethereal voice: "Do you know what they did to me?"

"I can probably guess," Shiller nodded and said, "The people crafting this script lack imagination when it comes to the cruelty of the human race. I guess they based it on some classic horror game, setting a tragic backstory for you. But it's nothing more than various physical tortures before burning you to death."

"Why don't you feel anger?"

Shiller sighed softly and said, "I am truly sorry about what happened to you. Had I lived in your era, I might have chosen to save you. But so much time has passed, it's not really my concern. Why do you care about my opinion?"

"Why don't you feel anger and fear over their evil deeds?"

"Well, if you insist, then I'll have to put it another way," Shiller stood up, stepped outside the counter and faced the charred body saying, "From your dreams, we know you were a Witch. I'm not too familiar with Witches, but as far as I know, you practice magic."

"A young Witch might not have been as powerful, but definitely stronger than a human child. Not as strong as an adult perhaps, but in a one-on-one, surely you had the upper hand over a human child."

"Back then, you were probably mentally immature and fell for their lies, got tricked into a trap and captured. But they didn't just kill you immediately after capturing you. Why didn't you attempt to resist during that time?"

"I know you might say they could have had special powers, and you were genuinely unable to escape their control. But did you try to negotiate verbally? Or at least try to understand what they were after?"

"Alright, assuming you were too young then to understand anything. After all these years, your age should be greater than everyone in the hospital combined. Why then do the dreams you present still not show any useful information?"

"For so many years, have you sought the real reason for your victimization? Have you considered the deeper causes? Have you thought about using your ability to show dreams to actually change most people's minds and save more like yourself?"

"Even if you just want to vent your anger and resentment, haven't you thought of improving how you project these scenes over the years?"

"I admit, pulling out teeth and nails, or cutting off tongues, must be painful indeed. But have you thought about how many people in this world have suffered much more pain than this, to a degree that such physical pain can't affect them at all?"

"Or is it that everyone in this world is exceptionally fragile and totally crushed by such pain? Are we the first exception you came across?"

"I guess not, right? Otherwise, how would there be two dreams?"

After Shiller finished talking, the evil spirit seemed surprisingly furious. Every piece of furniture in the triage room floated, seemingly aiming to smash towards Shiller.

"I advise you to think carefully. I can return to the operating room at any time. That place isn't entirely your turf. I believe others in the hospital would be more willing to discuss terms with me."

Shiller was quite confident. Seeing as in his view, the content of the dreams completely reflected the level of the young girl's evil spirit, which was unimpressive. The dreams neither told the cause and effect nor did they render any emotions, just bluntly put up a straightforward memory that affected limited people.

Especially having worked in the hospital, Shiller understood that the human tolerance for pain is quite strong. Those who think they can't handle pain are typically the ones who've never undergone major surgery. Every year, so many people suffer fractures or significant open wounds, and anesthetics only work during the surgery itself. Once the effects wear off, painkillers are of limited help, yet you don't hear about everybody dying or going mad from pain.

Ultimately, it's because the human brain has safety limits. Once the pain exceeds the threshold, it just gets blocked out, or the system shuts down if it can't be blocked.

And the human will to survive is incredibly strong. When the pressure to survive is at its peak, we can instantly switch from sub-healthy modern humans into terrifying, upright apes. As long as we can survive, there is no pain we cannot endure.

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Therefore, this kind of scene-recreation for scaring people is the least efficient method. It's even less effective than a chase or simply a few jump scares that can cause nervous breakdowns with repeated occurrences.

Moreover, considering this young girl was a Witch, but still got killed effortlessly without any resistance, it can be inferred that she might not be a particularly formidable being.

"You can't help them!" the evil spirit screamed, "They are despicable villains, they should go to Hell!"

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"Alright, alright, just calm down, Miss. Let's not talk about the past; let's talk about now. Can you tell me what exactly is going on with this hospital?"

"Let me tell you instead." Another voice emerged in the room, and Shiller turned his head to see a dark figure standing by the door that had just opened.

A little boy walked out. However, unlike before, he didn't seem to have any wounds on his body and emitted a faint glow all over, more like a ghost than the mummy from before.

"I am Henry, pleased to meet you, Doctor."

Shiller's originally gentle eyes gradually grew colder, but he masked the change well and pretended to be somewhat surprised as he said, "Pleased to meet you, Henry. Who are you? Why are you here?"

"I'm also a victim of this hospital," Henry said. "About 60 years ago, I was a child of a merchant family in Magic Core Town. After the plague broke out in the town, I got infected, was sent to the hospital, but never made it out of the operating room alive, turning into a ghost wandering here."

Shiller acted as if he had come to a realization and then asked with feigned curiosity, "Do you know the secret of this hospital?"

"It's not much of a secret," Henry said. "Many years ago, there wasn't a town here, just an isolated village. But within a few short decades, over a dozen renowned Grand Mages emerged from here, earning it the name 'Land of Mages.' The name 'Magic Core Town' evolved from this term."

"So many mages emerging from the same place naturally attracted the attention of important figures. They sent people to investigate whether the village had any unique conditions, but what they discovered was a shocking crime."

"Beneath the village lay an extremely dangerous Magic Energy Source. In that era, it was absolutely impossible to exploit. Even anyone who dared to come close would be killed by the backlash of the magic power."

"However, the villagers discovered that a cursed Witch's descendant had a natural affinity with magic, able to move freely around the Magic Energy Source and even absorb its strength into herself."

"So they captured her, and controlled her, using her as a vessel to transport magic energy, making her infuse magic into her body. Then they drank her blood, allowing the magic to transform their bodies, gaining the ability to use magic power, and became the famous Grand Mages known far and wide."

"After draining the magic energy, they killed the little girl in an evil manner, squeezing out her last value, and trapped her here forever, preventing her from taking revenge."

After hearing the story, Shiller nodded and said, "As expected. So how do you know all this?"

"I am not like her, trapped here. I can move around in some places in town, so naturally, I was able to investigate some things."

"What is your relationship with Dr. Foster?"

"He's the one who killed me," Henry said, "It wasn't a treatment mistake or anything, but rather he followed the orders of an Evil spirit, tortured me to death, and turned me into a ghost."

What Henry said was almost the same as what Shiller had seen in his dream. Back then, the role he was playing was Henry, and indeed, the face revealed when the Bird Beak Doctor's mask fell off was that of Dr. Foster.

"What a spectacular story," another voice spoke up. Shiller turned and saw Arrogant had appeared at the entrance of the corridor at some point, then leisurely walked past Henry and sat down in the chair by the window.

Shiller knew he didn't need to speak because soon there would be one more sorrowful Ghost in the room.

"So, Mr. Henry," Arrogant said with a gentle nod, "can you tell me who Martha is?"

"She's Batman's mother," Shiller almost blurted out, but he knew not every mother in the world was named Martha.

"She is my mother," Henry replied, without a change in his expression.

"Do you love her?"

"Of course."

"Then why did she die in a fire?"

"That was an accident," Henry said with a sad expression, "There was a fire at my home. My dad carried me out, but she thought I hadn't made it and went back to look for me, and ended up burnt to death in the house."

"What time did she die?"

"...What?"

"What time exactly did your mother burn to death?" Arrogant asked, looking into Henry's eyes, "Specifically, what time did you burn her to death?"