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Now reading: Chapter 89: Treatment from Lord Of Beasts, a Fantasy novel by BerserkBaldy.

After hearing about everything that happened within the gate, the Riot Valkyrie seed to have lost interest. There was nothing for her to fight against, and she had spoken to the E Rank much longer than she had planned to.

"That demon girl isn’t waking up anyti soon, so I’m out of here," she said casually, stretching slightly. "See you around, Ethan."

And just like that, she turned and was about to leave.

"Wait!"

She paused and glanced at him, confused.

Ethan hesitated for half a second before speaking.

"Can you at least carry back?"

His pride was dead anyway; might as well bury it properly.

"I’ve lost a lot of blood," he added. "And I have no idea where the hell we are."

She stared at him for a second before bursting into laughter.

"You can’t be serious?"

Ethan shrugged weakly, to which she smirked.

"The black suits will co find you."

He frowned.

"Black suits?"

But before he could ask more, she was gone.

Just like that, she burst up into the sky and bounded into the distance.

Ethan lay there, staring up at the sky, unsure what to think.

’That was all so random.’

His fists clenched.

’But I never want to be picked up and carried around like that, helpless to do anything. Once I beco A Rank, and even S Rank, no one will be able to fuck with again.’

Just as he was about to make a move after being left sprawled on cold concrete away from the gate site, Ethan suddenly froze.

There were footsteps, those of multiple people closing in on him quickly.

’They’re here already?’

Ethan watched tensely as a group of figures rushed into view, remaining ready to act at any mont, even in his weakened state. As described, they wore clean, professional black suits.

They also had masks, not the cool kind either.

The figures wore plain, clinical masks that covered the lower half of their faces, giving them the look of fancy hospital staff.

’I thought that covid bullshit ended years ago while I was still in the can.’

The group surrounded him quickly, efficiently, and silently, though a few exchanged glances after taking in his condition.

One of them stepped forward, voice calm and practised.

"Ethan Crowe, please co with us."

He let out a weak huff.

"Yeah... like I’ve got a choice."

Ethan didn’t resist as two of them lifted him carefully before moving imdiately.

’What is it with people carrying around today?’

Within monts, he was being transported into a vehicle that looked like a cross between an ambulance and a military transport, marked subtly with the insignia of the Association.

The doors slamd shut, and the van zood off.

Surprisingly, the ride was quick.

It was too short for Ethan to get comfortable, but long enough for the pain to remind him he was still very much injured. He was then carried straight into the nearest Association’s base.

The bright lights, sterile air, and the sll of antiseptic made it feel like a hospital, but in many ways it was.

They placed him on a bed, and masked dical staff imdiately surrounded him. Hands moved quickly, using gadgets he hadn’t seen before: checking vitals, inspecting wounds, applying basic treatnt.

"Pulse is stable."

"Blood loss significant but controlled."

"Shoulder injury partially sealed, note as unusual..."

Ethan raised a hand weakly.

"I’m fine," he muttered. "Seriously."

They didn’t listen.

Of course, they didn’t.

So he just gave in and lay there like a guinea pig as they did what they wanted, which seed to be a recurring the of the day so far. That was until they pulled up his shirt to examine his torso more closely, and a few of them paused.

"Those tattoos..."

"They’re incredibly detailed."

Ethan’s eyes snapped open slightly.

’Shit!’

He quickly tugged his shirt back down with surprising urgency, almost like a woman pulling down her skirt in the wind.

"Yeah, yeah, they’re nice," he said dismissively. "But I like to keep them covered."

A couple of them exchanged looks, but thankfully didn’t press further. As for the treatnt itself, it wasn’t anything special and was just enough to make sure he didn’t die.

Ethan insisted repeatedly that he didn’t need further care, brushing them off with a mix of stubbornness and excuses.

"I’ve got a phobia of doctors," he said at one point, completely deadpan, which wasn’t entirely untrue.

Eventually, they stopped pushing.

They stabilised his condition as best as they could, using a glue-like substance to seal his larger cuts and a coagulant to reduce his bleeding.

’The opposite of what that fucking water snake did on Floor Zero.’

It was over in a matter of minutes without them even needing to provide him with any blood. Then, after the initial treatnt, he was moved to another room.

And that’s when things started to shift from care to containnt...

-

The room they placed him in was large, clean, and unmistakably hospital-like. But unlike the previous room, it felt less like a place for recovery and more like a controlled environnt.

And Ethan would be an idiot not to notice that everyone he had encountered thus far had been wearing a mask of so sort.

’Guess they don’t want another pandemic.’

That made sense.

Unstable gates were unpredictable, and who knew what kind of unknown pathogens and foreign organisms they might carry. It was the sa for most gates, and all Titled were tested upon exit, at least the ones they could control.

After all, it was better to be safe than sorry.

To his left was Darius on an identical bed.

The B Rank was in bad shape, still unconscious.

Machines monitored his vitals as dical staff worked around him, their expressions serious. His chest was heavily bandaged, and even from a distance, Ethan could tell just how severe the injury had been.

It was a miracle that he had survived at all.

Ethan watched quietly as one of the staff stepped forward, a woman with a focused expression, and placed her hands gently over Darius’s body.

A faint green glow radiated from her palms.

’She’s healing him.’

It wasn’t incredibly fast or flashy, but it was effective, and his condition improved slightly within a matter of seconds. Though it seed like she couldn’t use it repeatedly and almost fainted after its use.

’That’s just like Beast nd.’

Ethan exhaled slowly.

"She’s not a combat type and is low-ranked," he muttered under his breath. "But damn... that’s valuable."

No one heard him.

Or if they did, they didn’t respond.

After so ti, one of the senior doctors stepped back and addressed the others.

"He should make a full recovery with continued support and treatnt over approximately two weeks," they said. "His body is remarkably resilient due to the nature of his ability, which is the only reason he survived whatever impact he sustained."

Ethan nodded slightly.

"But..." the doctor continued, frowning, "whether he regains consciousness soon or remains in a comatose state will depend on neurological recovery."

The doctor then glanced at Ethan.

"Care to offer insight into how exactly he sustained such an injury?"

Ethan didn’t hesitate.

"Must’ve been the boss beast."

They nodded and didn’t question it further, since it wasn’t their job to.

But Ethan would be interrogated soon enough...

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