Chapter 236: Physical Anesthesia Is Still Anesthesia
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
Chapter 236: Physical Anesthesia Is Still Anesthesia
In the end, just like Steven said—It really is that simple.
Specter’s condition had baffled even the finest minds at Rhodes Island. Even she herself had long since given up hope of a solution. But for Steven? At most, it was just… a little troublesome.
Honestly, if she hadn’t brought it up today, Steven might have completely forgotten that someone had injected a full vial of Originium concentrate into her spine.
And with that in mind, it was no wonder she had violence on the brain 24/7—kill, tear, slash, repeat.
If a person was being tortured by bone-searing agony every moment of every day, no one could expect them to stay calm and rational.
It was like they always said: the squeaky wheel gets the grease.
If she never actually told him what was wrong, how was he supposed to magically know? He wasn’t some all-seeing god!
“Wait—didn’t you say it was a super complicated problem before?” Specter blinked. Even Skadi looked confused. “You told us there wasn’t anything you could do.”
“Sure, it is complicated,” Steven admitted, shrugging. “But I never said it was impossible. And I only meant I can’t do anything about the mental part of her condition. When it comes to physical injuries—hey, that’s my specialty.”
He gave a relaxed smile, as if this whole situation had been some minor misunderstanding.
Honestly, how could they blame him for not explaining more clearly? They were the ones who made assumptions. It wasn’t like they asked.
He chuckled to himself. His adopted daughter must’ve underestimated him too.
People really didn’t get it, huh?
When it came to purely physical issues, he was unbeatable.
One vial of concentrated Originium? Please. He could probably replace all of Specter’s blood with the stuff and still find a way to keep her alive—so long as she could survive it.
That was the confidence he had in his skills.
“Then what are we waiting for?” Skadi gripped his wrist tightly, her tone urgent. “Tell me what you need. Equipment, medicine, location—I’ll make it happen. If it’ll help Laurentina, I’ll do anything.”
Her sea-blue eyes were practically glowing with hope. Just a little time with Steven, and he’d already given her so many miracles. Could this boy actually be one?
Even Specter went quiet. When she heard that Steven had a way to ease the pain that had plagued her every second of her existence, her signature deranged grin finally disappeared.
She didn’t doubt his words for a second.
Steven had never lied to her—not about something like this.
Her current fractured mental state was probably a direct result of the unrelenting pain gnawing at her spine.
So if there was a way to relieve that—even just a little—why wouldn’t she look forward to it?
“Hmm… nah, I don’t need anything special,” Steven said, scratching his head again. “Since we’re already out here, let’s just find a place where no one is around and knock this surgery out real quick.”
—That sounded way more reckless than it should’ve.
As far as doctors went, Steven was… well, not exactly top-tier.
He didn’t carry any medical tools. He didn’t bother with patient records. Sometimes he didn’t even ask what the illness was.
He’d joked more than once that he was a classic back-alley doctor—barefoot and underqualified.
Compared to the professionals at Rhodes Island, his "medical expertise" was practically a meme.
To be perfectly honest, none of this would’ve been possible if Steven didn’t have his Minecraft power.
Which was exactly why he genuinely respected people like Kal’tsit.
Those who became doctors through hard work and study? Those were the real deal.
He’d never dare look down on them just because he had some ridiculous abilities of his own.
Still, the moment he casually announced that Specter’s condition was solvable, their little shopping trip—complete with “family of three” vibes—was officially over.
The two Abyssal Hunters clearly couldn’t wait even a single second longer.
Their eyes screamed: If we could, we’d do the operation right here and now.
“A place where no one is around… should we head outside the city?”
Skadi tilted her head thoughtfully.
She still remembered Kal’tsit’s warning—how the Originium concentrate in Specter’s spine was dangerous enough to level entire city blocks.
Obviously, performing surgery in a place full of civilians was a massive no-go.
If they needed isolation, heading out of town seemed like the only option.
“No need. We’ll just do it back at the inn. Trust me.”
Steven waved her concerns away with a casual smile.
Seriously, going all the way outside the city? What a hassle.
They could save themselves the trouble and just handle it in their hotel room.
“But… what about the side effects from the Originium?”
Skadi’s brows furrowed.
Removing that much concentrated Originium wasn’t just risky—it was lethal under the wrong conditions.
Even a trace could contaminate the area. If Steven really planned to do it in the middle of a city inn, wouldn’t that put innocent people at risk?
She didn’t exactly care about collateral damage, but he might not appreciate the heat it could bring.
“No big deal. It’s just radiation,” he said like it was nothing more than a sunburn.
“I’ve got it under control.”
To him, handling a bit of Originium concentrate was child's play.
If there really was dangerous radiation, he’d just seal the room tight and layer it with obsidian.
Radiation-proof Minecraft-style home renovation? Yeah, he was already on it.
While explaining his utterly insane plan, Steven casually took the two hunters by the hand and led them back toward the inn.
Before long, they returned to their room.
Without wasting another second, Steven gestured for Skadi to wait outside.
Then he gently pulled Specter by the hand into the room, shutting the door behind them.
Without hesitation, he began sealing the place up with obsidian blocks—layer upon layer until they were completely isolated from the outside world.
Only then did he turn to the dazed girl standing in the center of the room.
“All right. Strip.”
With eyes steady and calm, he spoke the words that could so easily be misunderstood.
Now was the perfect time.
Specter was still relatively lucid, so the earlier they started, the better.
Besides, once this was over, he could brag to his “adopted daughter” about how much he’d done for her friends—see if she didn’t owe him big time.
Keeping his expression as neutral as possible, Steven silently urged the girl in front of him to comply.
Specter blinked once. Then, wordlessly, she turned around.
With smooth, practiced motions, she undid her robe—one that resembled the habit of a nun—and slid it down her shoulders.
What she revealed beneath wasn’t just a body. It was a work of art.
Her back alone looked like it was sculpted from the finest marble—pale, flawless, and so perfect it almost didn’t seem human.
He hadn’t even seen that much—just her bare back, her undergarments still intact—and yet, Steven felt a sudden rush of heat climb up his spine. His heart pounded in his chest.
Steven rubbed his face, shaking off the creeping fuzziness in his mind and forcing himself to stay alert.
He pointed to the large bed nearby.
“Go lie down,” he said. “Also, hey—are you afraid of pain?”
“Hmm?”
Specter blinked in confusion as she settled onto the bed, then turned her head slightly, puzzled by the question.
“Eh, never mind. I don’t have any anesthetics anyway,” Steven muttered.
Before she could even begin to question him, Steven chopped his hand down in a crisp motion—A clean karate chop to the back of the neck.
Specter’s eyes rolled back, and her body slumped instantly into unconsciousness.
Yeah… these Deep Sea Super-Soldiers had bodies tough enough to make a bull jealous.
Trying to chemically anesthetize one of them was basically impossible, at least for the current him.
But that was fine. Who needed drugs when you had the power of the physical knockout?
Steven knew exactly how much force to use—just enough to knock her out cold without dislocating her neck.
Sure, she might wake up with a sore neck… but hey, small price to pay for spinal surgery.
And let’s be honest: this probably wasn’t going to be a one-hit situation.
If she woke up midway through, he’d just have to… apply another “dose.” With his hand.
Honestly, her being unconscious was kind of a relief.
Steven could finally work without feeling all awkward and self-conscious.
After all, embarrassment only existed when someone else was there to see it, right?
No audience, no shame.
Besides, no matter how attractive she might be, an unconscious girl was just… well, a limp body.
Not exactly mood-setting.
He wasn’t into corpses, thanks.
With a grunt, he repositioned her so she was lying flat across the bed.
Just as he reached down to remove her form-fitting, milk-white undergarments, Steven froze.
“…Front clasp?” he muttered, dumbfounded.
Seriously?
How did a mentally unstable battle nun end up wearing a front-clasping bra?
He awkwardly pawed at her smooth, bare back for a while, trying and failing to locate the clasp.
Why hadn’t he just asked her to undo it herself before knocking her out?
Steven sighed, staring down at the stubborn garment.
Maybe… flip her over?
He considered it for a moment, then shook his head.
No, forget it. This wasn’t the time to second-guess himself.
He was a doctor—kind of. This was medicine. This was healing.
Without further hesitation, he reached into his pack and pulled out a small field knife—the smallest blade he had. Anything bigger, like a diamond sword, and he’d feel less like a surgeon and more like a butcher.
With one precise flick of the blade, the front clasp snapped, and the snug-fitting undergarment fell away silently.
Her back was now fully exposed—smooth, pale, and as flawless as a sculpture carved from white jade.
“Guess we’re starting,” he whispered.
“…Though honestly, this feels more like carving a statue than performing a surgery.”
He exhaled quietly, then lowered the blade.
With practiced care, Steven pressed the knife against her skin and began to cut.
A deep incision, clean and deliberate, parted the muscle and flesh—straight to the bone.
He worked quickly, efficiently.
To him, this wasn’t some complex life-or-death operation.
It was just cut the meat, extract the Originium concentrate, pour some healing potion to seal it up.
Nothing more.
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