Riato nodded in agreement.

"Commander Hunter is right. Even the mildest acid rain infections take at least three to five days before scabbing begins." He glanced at Jason’s leg calmly. "Your wound does resemble acid rain damage, but the severity is very minor. Recovering quickly under those circumstances is perfectly normal."

Between the two of them, Jason found himself completely speechless.

He lowered his head to stare at his neatly scabbed-over calf, then looked back at the grotesque wound on his uncle’s arm.

Suddenly, every explanation felt weak and meaningless.

He remembered clearly how agonizing the pain had been when the infection flared up. The stabbing sensation had burrowed through his bones, so intense he could barely stand upright.

And yet, the moment Suzy’s ointment touched the wound, the pain had vanished.

That cool sensation had seeped into the injury like ice water poured onto raging flames, instantly suppressing the agony.

Jason remembered every second of it vividly.

It had all been real. The problem was... No one would believe him even if he said it aloud.

Jason opened his mouth, still wanting to argue, but Riato had already opened the medicine case and taken out gauze and ointment before walking toward Isaac.

"It’s time to change the dressing, Commander Hunter."

Isaac waved Jason aside, signaling for him to stay out of the way and stop disturbing Doctor Riato’s work.

Jason obediently stepped aside and watched quietly.

Isaac extended his injured arm. Riato examined it carefully, and his brows gradually furrowed tighter.

"It’s gotten worse."

At those words, Isaac’s eyes dimmed slightly.

In just this short period of time, the purplish black discoloration had spread from his elbow all the way down toward his wrist. The dense blisters Jason had noticed earlier had multiplied, clustering tightly together.

Some had already burst open, exposing raw, blood-red flesh underneath.

Others remained swollen and bulging, filled with fluid that might have been pus or blood.

Jason instinctively turned his face away, then forced himself to look back again.

If his uncle could endure it without fear, why should he look away?

Riato’s brows remained tightly knitted, but he said nothing.

He removed a bottle of dark brown medicinal liquid from the case, poured some onto a clean cotton ball, and began gently wiping around the wound.

The instant the medicine touched the infected skin, faint sizzling sounds filled the air.

White foam bubbled up from the rotting flesh, as though something inside the wound was actively being corroded away.

Isaac’s arm tensed slightly. His fingers clenched and loosened repeatedly, though his expression barely changed.

"How does it feel today?" Riato asked quietly while cleaning the wound.

"Not bad." Isaac’s voice remained calm. "Hurts a little more than yesterday."

Riato merely hummed in acknowledgment and continued working.

Using tweezers, he picked up small pieces of cotton soaked in medicine and began cleaning the ruptured blisters one by one.

Every time he cleaned another wound, Isaac’s arm trembled faintly.

Yet he never made a sound. Only the fingers of his free hand slowly tightened around the bedsheet beneath him.

Standing nearby, Jason watched the thin layer of sweat gathering along his uncle’s temples. Before he realized it, his own back was drenched in cold sweat too.

He understood that pain all too well.

His uncle’s tolerance was terrifying. If it were him, he would probably already be screaming his lungs out by now.

After cleaning the blisters, Riato switched to a fresh pair of tweezers and began treating the deepest portions of the decayed tissue.

His movements were incredibly delicate, wrist suspended in midair as he carefully lifted tiny pieces of blackened, necrotic flesh from the wound.

Isaac’s breathing gradually grew heavier. His chest rose and fell violently.

"Almost done," Riato said in a low voice.

He lifted a chunk of completely dead tissue and was just about to remove it when Isaac’s body suddenly convulsed violently.

Not the small tremors caused by pain earlier.

This was a full-body spasm, as though a surge of electricity had blasted through him.

Riato’s expression changed instantly.

He immediately dropped the tweezers and pulled out a bottle of deep crimson liquid from the medical case. Twisting the cap open, he poured it directly onto the wound.

The moment the liquid touched the rotting flesh, the sizzling sound intensified violently.

White smoke actually began rising from the surface of the wound, carrying a sharp, burnt stench that clawed at the throat.

Jason stared in shock.

What kind of treatment was this?!

Isaac let out a muffled grunt. His entire arm spasmed uncontrollably, fingers curling inward as his nails dug deep into his palms.

The color drained from his face, turning from pale to ashen gray. Large beads of sweat rolled down his forehead one after another.

"Hold him down!" Riato suddenly barked at Jason.

Jason froze for half a second before lunging forward, using all his strength to pin Isaac’s shoulders in place.

His uncle’s body was terrifyingly hot, like a furnace burning from the inside out.

Meanwhile, Riato rapidly pulled more items from the medical case.

A bottle of white medicinal powder. A small silver knife.

Using the blade, he carefully sliced along the edge of the wound.

Black blood immediately poured out. It was not normal blood. Instead of dark red, it resembled thick black sludge, sticky and viscous, carrying a nauseating rotten stench.

"Don’t let go," Riato ordered steadily, though sweat had begun forming on his own forehead as well.

The moment the white powder touched the black blood, it transformed into a strange dark purple color, as though something within it was being devoured alive.

Isaac’s convulsions intensified violently. His whole body trembled as another low groan escaped his throat.

Jason held him down desperately, sweat streaming nonstop down his own face.

So this was his uncle’s treatment process? The entire thing felt horrifyingly bizarre.

If even his uncle could barely endure this level of pain, Jason genuinely could not imagine how unbearable it must be.

Beside them, Riato’s hands moved quickly and methodically.

Cleaning black blood. Sprinkling medicinal powder. Applying ointment.

Every motion was precise and practiced, as though he had repeated this countless times before.

Yet Jason could still see it. Even Riato’s hands were trembling faintly.

No one knew how much time had passed before Isaac’s body finally began to relax.

The convulsions stopped. His breathing gradually steadied.

Leaning weakly against the headboard, his complexion remained deathly gray, though at least a trace of color had finally returned to his lips.

Riato finished applying the last layer of ointment and released a long exhausted breath.

He stood up slowly, looked at Isaac, then at Jason, his voice rough with fatigue.

"It’s under control for now."

Isaac lowered his eyes toward his still horrifying arm and remained silent for a long while.

Then he looked up at Jason and smiled faintly. The smile was weak and exhausted, carrying an indescribable weariness.

"It’s fine. Just a small complication." His voice was hoarse. "Did I scare you?"

"I-I’m okay..." Jason answered stiffly.

After witnessing all this firsthand, Jason suddenly realized something.

The ointment Suzy had given him was practically miraculous. Not only did it heal frighteningly fast, it also avoided this level of unbearable agony altogether.

Jason had only just finished marveling at that thought when Isaac suddenly closed his eyes. Without warning, his entire body slumped backward heavily against the bed.

His head tilted limply to one side. The gray in his complexion deepened into a sickly bluish ash color. His lips turned purple. His breathing became rapid and weak, chest heaving violently as though he were desperately trying to pull air into his lungs but could never get enough.

Jason’s face changed instantly. "Uncle!!"

He lunged forward and grabbed Isaac’s hand. The moment he touched him, his heart nearly stopped.

Isaac’s hands were ice cold, far colder than any living person’s should be. Even his fingernails had turned an unnatural bluish purple.

Jason immediately pressed a hand against his forehead. He was burning hot. So hot it was terrifying.

Everything had happened in mere seconds. Jason whipped around toward Riato, panic flooding his face.

"Doctor Riato, what’s happening to my uncle?!"

Riato had already rushed to the bedside. He pulled open Isaac’s eyelids and checked his pupils.

Then he immediately pressed three fingers against Isaac’s wrist to feel his pulse.

The deeper he concentrated, the tighter his brows furrowed.

His lips compressed into a grim line, but he said nothing.

"Doctor Riato, what happened to my uncle?!" Jason repeated, his voice trembling uncontrollably.

"Stay calm."

Riato released Isaac’s wrist and quickly retrieved a silver acupuncture needle from the case, jabbing it hard into the philtrum beneath Isaac’s nose.

Isaac’s body twitched slightly. His brows furrowed faintly. But he did not wake.

Riato immediately pulled out another silver needle and drove it into the pressure point between Isaac’s thumb and index finger.

Still no response.

At last, Riato spoke; his voice sounded far rougher than before. "The infection spread much faster than I anticipated."