"What's with that expression? You look surprised to see me."
Jin opened his mouth. His voice was hoarse and weak, but even that was sexy.
What was this elegant yet deadly aura? My heart started pounding. Don't get carried away, heart.
"Pitiful? No, it seems a bit different from that. How should I put it? Regret? Do you think my lack of flesh is the only flaw ruining an otherwise flawless appearance?"
Eh? What...? Is he reading my mind? A psychic? Caught off guard by Jin's attitude, which seemed to pinpoint my thoughts exactly while I was mesmerized by his beauty.
"No need to panic. It's just that I'm a bit quicker on the uptake than most—no suspicious magic or anything. Reading others has become an old habit."
Again! He read my emotions perfectly. Sure, obvious fluster is easy for anyone, but how does he know so deeply?
"By reading someone's expression, I can roughly gauge their emotions, then fill in the gaps with inference. It's not hard."
As if reading my very doubts again, Jin answered.
They said that Jin—who seemed so frail he couldn't even protect himself—could lead a massive rebel group because he was exceptionally intelligent.
No, even if smart, reading thoughts just from expressions? Even now, behind those sharply gleaming blue eyes, his brain must be in overdrive.
Hey, do you know how many calories you burn thinking like that? Already struggling against illness, if you're wasting all that energy on brainpower, what then? That's why he's so emaciated.
"Now you think my sharpness is harming my health. Well, maybe not wrong... *cough*."
Jin started coughing again mid-sentence.
'He might actually pass out like this.' Worry welled up alongside terror at how seamlessly we were communicating without me uttering a word.
"...Hoo. Sorry to the new doctor... but we've drawn enough blood already. And regrettably, any more and I might die. Can this frail body endure it?"
After coughing for a while, Jin steadied his breath and weakly lifted his left arm. A bloodied bandage was wrapped around his wrist.
And in that moment, Astrid's memory suddenly resurfaced.
Doctors in this era believed illness stemmed from imbalanced humors. To restore balance, they wounded patients and drew blood.
Wounding a dying patient and draining several bowls of blood. It was a medical practice called 'bloodletting.'
'No, are you insane? Drawing blood from someone this gaunt who's vomiting blood daily? What if he dies from hemorrhage?'
And if that wound got infected... Forget three months—he'd be dead in days. Tetanus or sepsis? Aaaah!
Another of Astrid's memories followed. Her doctor father 'treating' trauma patients by cauterizing wounds with hot iron or pouring boiling oil before bandaging.
If my predecessor—who'd fled after just days—had done that to Jin... Ah, no! Shuddering, I shouted.
"Bring strong alcohol right now! The strongest stuff! Hurry!"
Disinfect, disinfect! Without a second thought, I rushed to Jin's side. Alcohol wouldn't fully disinfect, but better than nothing. First, unwrap the bandage and check the wound.
"Alcohol... you say?"
Rishar asked blankly.
Yes! Alcohol! The original story said he was a great fighter but not the sharpest—turns out he's really dense. This guy.
"Yes, alcohol. Strongest you have."
Scared his arm might snap if I yanked too hard, I gently grasped Jin's forearm. Ah, right... I needed to wash my hands first. I'd just escaped a filthy prison; my hands were crawling with germs.
Untying the bandage and touching the wound like this... I could kill this delicate, flatfish-like man. Did soap here even disinfect? Should I disinfect my hands with alcohol too?
"...Um, is there somewhere I can wash my hands?"
I gently set down Jin's arm. Even the supposedly brilliant Jin looked a bit baffled; the situation clearly didn't make sense to him.
"This way. Alcohol coming right up."
Rishar led me to a small door in the corner. I followed him straight in.
And the scene inside... wasn't much different from a modern bathroom.
"Turn this for cold water, this for hot. Temperature adjustable—use as you like."
Pardon? Hot water from the faucet? Doubting my ears, I stared at Rishar.
This was weird. Really weird. No matter how I dredged up Astrid's memories, this world didn't have plumbing like this. Fetching clean water meant trekking to a well or spring; streets reeked of waste.
"The dwarves' technology in the Underground City is far more impressive than you'd think. No devil magic—use it freely. Ah, and that cleanser was specially developed by our alchemist."
Misreading my shock, Rishar explained. I was just stunned by the modern tech here. Sure, without modern knowledge, it'd be mind-blowing.
In the direction Rishar pointed sat a small glass bottle with a pump—like hand soap from my old world.
Rishar left me and stepped out. Thinking it was just for show, I pumped once. Rose-scented foam plopped into my palm.
What the...? This? Not the modern world?
The mirror above the sink showed Astrid's face, unmistakably. My bewildered expression confirmed it—I was in Liberators of the Underground City...
Of course, soap existed in this era. An extravagant luxury not for commoners. Yet the foam in my hand looked identical to modern stuff.
Snapping out of my daze, I shook my head. No, not the time for this.
Hurry back and check that corpse-like Jin's wound. If it was burned with boiling oil or hot iron... He'd die before it healed. That frail body plus burn infection...
Aaaah. I scrubbed my hands vigorously.
Worried about germs on the door, I shouldered it open—and Rishar appeared with a bottle labeled vodka in this world's script. Yes, strong enough.
"May I take a look at the wound?"
I asked Jin cautiously. He watched me with evident interest.
Jin nodded slightly. Permission granted.
I carefully unwrapped the bandage. Please... no burns, please.
Fortunately, the previous doctor hadn't used boiling oil or hot iron. Just a sharp incision.
"It might sting a little—bear with it."
I poured vodka onto the wound where blood had dried stickily. As the liquid touched, Jin winced slightly in pain.
...Even grimacing, he was handsome. Like that ancient poet they said was so beautiful in frown that people imitated his expressions.
Ah, no. Focus on treatment. Keep staring, and Jin will read my mind and tease.
"Hey, Doc. Focus on the treatment, not my face. I know I'm beautiful, but."
