Volume 2 Chapter 3: Frankenstein

“Scratch!” Qin Lun lit the oil lamp in his hand, illuminating the small basement.

Several long tables stood around the basement, covered with glassware. Most were various glass beakers and rubber tubes. These were the only medical research equipment the Stan Family had left. Apart from the few medicines Wellington had saved in the medical kit, in this era, it could be said these glass items were more valuable than the crumbling little building itself.

However, Qin Lun’s gaze didn’t linger on these things. He didn’t understand this world’s medical system, so these objects held no value for him. His eyes were quickly drawn to the operating table placed in the middle of the basement.

A corpse lay on the operating table. Seeing it, Qin Lun sighed. He finally understood why the whole house had become an environment uninhabitable for humans.

The corpse had been dissected. Its open belly wasn’t stitched up; the organs inside had rotted and fermented into a pulpy mess, leaking a dark green jelly-like matter. A stench of decay filled the entire basement. It seemed Qin Lun had found the source of the poisonous air in the building.

Qin Lun didn’t hesitate any longer. He strode over to the corner of the basement, grabbed Wellington’s medical kit and a narrow-necked reagent bottle as big as a bucket, and rushed back upstairs.

After rescuing the medical kit and the reagent bottle from the building, Qin Lun took a deep breath. He charged back into the house and brought out several basic medical texts, a large wooden tub, and a small leather suitcase.

Inside the small suitcase were a couple of spare outfits. The medical texts would give Qin Lun a basic understanding of this world’s medical system. As for the reagent bottle, it contained medical alcohol.

Qin Lun quickly stripped off his clothes again, leaving only his underwear. He placed these, along with the spare clothes from the suitcase, into the large wooden tub. Then he drew a bucket of water from the well in front of the house, diluted some of the medical alcohol from the reagent bottle, and poured it into the large tub.

Frank didn’t question his master’s strange actions. Having seen a lot of Wellington’s medical research, he vaguely guessed this was some kind of preventive measure against disease. He went around back and fetched some chopped firewood. He built a campfire some distance away from the tub and also set up a drying rack using wooden poles.

Qin Lun opened the medical kit. While he wiped down its various instruments with alcohol-soaked cotton pads, he also delved deep into the scattered memories left behind by Wellington.

Since Wellington had been dead for three days, his memories were fragmentary. Only the things he remembered most vividly still clung to his decaying brain. The medical kit and the money pouch hidden in the bedroom holding his last savings were among them.

From these memories, Qin Lun learned that the world he now found himself in resembled Earth during a period somewhere between the late Middle Ages and the early Modern era. Roughly, this placed it between the 15th and 18th centuries, with most technology and culture similar to that phase.

This world already had glass, clocks, looms, gunpowder, and other modern scientific inventions. It was in an era of Renaissance, a time of learning and new ideas spreading. Medicine hadn’t officially discovered antibiotics yet, but some skilled doctors had already extracted antibiotic-like substances from plants.

However, the plants capable of yielding such substances were extremely difficult to cultivate, and the extraction process was highly complex. Plant-derived antibiotics were valued at over ten times the price of gold. Inside Wellington’s medical kit was one vial of a violet-colored solution that was exactly this: antibiotic.

This potion was called Wisteria Tonic. Currently, less than thirty milliliters remained in the vial. During earlier treatments, Wellington hadn’t used it on the plague patients. He hadn’t even used it on himself. By the time he realized things were going wrong, he was already feverish, unconscious, and had lost his last chance for survival.

While Wellington regarded this antibiotic as a miracle cure, Qin Lun wasn’t so naive. He had seen the state of the corpse on the operating table. He didn’t believe a single vial of antibiotic could combat something like that dark green jelly substance. To him, it seemed almost as potent as a weapon made of deadly germs, and one that killed people very quickly.

The one thing Qin Lun found strange was that amidst Wellington’s perfectly normal memories, there were mixed in some “not-quite-normal” ones. Wellington was convinced this world contained beings science couldn’t explain. He called them Witches.

He had never seen one himself, but Wellington believed these Witches wielded Black Magic. He thought they could command all sorts of strange Magical Creatures and hid themselves in the remote forests, mountains, and swamps far from human settlements.

After examining Wellington’s memories, Qin Lun next focused his mind on his very first Otherworld Mission. In the Death Notice, this mission was displayed in bright red letters, impossible to miss.

The mission content was very simple: “Apostle 70053, your first Otherworld Mission is to save Stephen Albert. The target is within thirty kilometers of you. The time allowed is thirty standard days. Basic Reward for Completion: One Shattered Laws Crystal. Additional Rewards: To be awarded based on mission progression. Penalty for Failure: Deduction of thirty Soul Lifespan points.”

Definitely a simple mission! Qin Lun shrugged his shoulders, though the irony wasn’t lost on him: sending a Serial Killer to be a rescuer!

“Change your clothes. Use this to clean that hair and beard up!” Qin Lun, now wearing his dried clothes, took out a few larger-sized undershirts from the pile and handed them and a small knife to Frank.

Since he’d inherited Wellington’s Plot Identity, he intended to make good use of it. During a time of Epidemic Disease, a doctor – even an unlicensed one – could be very useful. He figured finding clues about the mission target wouldn’t be hard.

“M-Master… I think… I think how I look right now is fine. Do I really need to cut my hair and shave?” Frank stammered, avoiding eye contact.

“Do as I say!” Qin Lun shot a stern look at the Hunchbacked Servant. After just one night, he was starting to get familiar with Frank’s temperament. The servant was somewhat insecure, withdrawn. Besides the Stan Family, few people would tolerate him.

After Wellington’s death, it was likely this hunched, ugly man, even if he avoided the disease, wouldn’t fit into human society. He’d probably end up living alone in the wild until old age took him, or he was killed by beasts.

As Qin Lun planned to use Wellington’s identity to inquire about Stephen Albert in nearby towns, having something resembling a wild man tagging along was impractical. Even if he stayed ugly, Frank at least needed to look semi-presentable.

However, when Frank used the small knife to trim his hair short and scrape off his beard, Qin Lun’s expression became quite peculiar. Now he understood why Frank was so reluctant to clean himself up.

The Hunchbacked Servant’s face was deeply pockmarked. Stubble covered his cheeks and chin. His eyes were unevenly sized, like narrow triangle shapes. His huge nostrils flared upwards. A gaping mouth revealed a mess of jagged, yellow teeth, and it was twisted noticeably askew.

Being ugly to such a heart-stopping degree was definitely exceptional! Recalling Frank’s name and the Stan Family surname, Qin Lun felt an even stronger sense of unease wash over him. This was practically the Other World version of Frankenstein!

It was no wonder that in Wellington’s memories, Frank always looked shaggy and unkempt, never revealing his true face. His actual appearance, cleaned up, was far more disturbing than when it was hidden under grime.

Frank turned his head away, unable to meet Qin Lun’s shocked look. Wellington hadn’t just been his master; he was the brother Frank grew up with. Seeing that familiar look of shock on family’s faces filled the hunchbacked man’s heart with deep sadness.

“Smack!” Qin Lun slapped Frank’s big head hard. He chuckled with a teasing tone, “You’re way more intimidating than I imagined! Ugly beast, you’ll definitely scare the people in the village right out of their minds.”

“Heh heh!” Frank felt a strange warm feeling inside. He turned back around, offering a shy, gap-toothed grin.

“Put this mask on. We need to find a village before sundown to spend the night.” Qin Lun pulled a large cotton mask from the medical kit and handed it to Frank. Putting this on would cover up that terrifying face a little bit.

“Master, aren’t we staying home?” Frank asked, puzzled.

“Home isn’t safe anymore. It’s crawling with germs from that sickness. Staying too long gets folks killed!” Qin Lun shook his head. He glanced at Frank, then turned towards the campfire. He grabbed a burning piece of firewood and thrust it towards his hunched servant. “Go burn it down.”

“B-…Burn it?” Frank’s mismatched triangle eyes widened. Holding the firebrand, he hesitated. Despite spending most of his life sleeping in the attic or the woodshed, for the hunched ugly man, the Stan cottage was still his only home.

Qin Lun picked up another burning piece. With a grunt, he hurled it through a broken window into the cottage. Quickly, flames began to blossom in several locations on the old Stan house. The faces of both master and servant flickered strangely in the growing firelight. Frank looked stunned, unable to tear his eyes away from the burning cottage as he watched greedily but also grieving.

“When we get work in the village and earn more money, there will be another cottage for you. I might even get you a wife. I promise you that on behalf of the Stan Family!” Qin Lun said, smiling softly—for the first time?

“A… a wife?” Frank’s hopeful look faded. “Master, besides Master Wellington and the old lord, no one wants anything to do with a monster!”

“Frank, you’re not a monster,” Qin Lun said, his gaze sharp and thoughtful. Then he smiled reassuringly. “And looks can be fixed. I’m not the best surgeon ever lived, ugly one, but yeah… I can make you look… well, less terrifying.”

“Frank would be grateful enough just to follow Master forever,” Frank muttered quietly. He perked up slightly. “And maybe help Master look after the young master one day?”

“On the subject, Frank,” Qin Lun spoke casually, changing topics. “Ever hear of a man named Stephen Albert?” He wasn’t holding out much hope. Frank, as a Hunchbacked Servant, rarely visited town. Besides the Stan Family and the corpses at the cemetery, he probably didn’t know any normal people well.

“Frank didn’t hear nobody like…” Frank frowned, trying to recall. “Mister Step-What-Fen…?”

But after thinking hard for a moment, Frank scratched his bald head where the tangled hair stubble had been shaved. “But… the old lord Stanley… he mentioned another man named Albert once… Baron Thomas Albert!” Frank said proudly, recalling the unfamiliar title correctly.