Chapter 697: Assassin Demir: I’m Getting Close to the Target!

Had he lost his mind?

Garrett immediately thought of the several vagrants he saw at the hospital entrance that morning—some with vacant eyes, others with lethargic movements. Could this be one of them, experiencing a psychotic episode?

As he hastily told the patient to "put on your clothes," he turned to leave the room. But just as he stepped out, a tall figure blocked his path. Without seeming to make a gesture, weeds on the ground crazily sprouted, binding the person into a green cocoon.

An eighth-level high priest acted with such efficiency.

Garrett nodded slightly to this disciple of Elder Knox—whether he was the eldest, he wasn’t sure—thanking him as he passed to check on the patient. He appreciated the priest’s intervention, saving him the trouble of deciding between using vines or a Peace Spell.

The green cocoon was bound neither too loosely nor too tightly, effectively restraining the patient without inhibiting his breathing. Inside the cocoon, the man twisted his head to glare at Garrett, his eyes bulging as if about to burst, his mouth open, his teeth and gums smeared with blood:

"Ha, ha..."

Garrett paused mid-step. The glimpse he caught of the vagrants at the hospital’s door earlier showed mostly indifferent expressions, slow reactions, and cognitive decline—essentially, symptoms resembling dementia. But the man before him seemed rather agitated...

Surely not a run-of-the-mill case?

As an emergency doctor, Garrett was not an expert in psychiatry, but he was familiar with mental disorders and similar symptoms. Receiving patients, he couldn’t always consult a psychiatrist. At a glance, he had to make his own assessment:

This one’s drunk, that one seems to be having a seizure, that one might have an emotional disorder, that one likely has hepatic encephalopathy, that one isn’t mentally ill, just shock making them appear indifferent...

Facing the cocooned man, Garrett hadn’t yet diagnosed him, but instinctively felt something was off. Including the man’s skin and the fresh blood on his lips, something seemed awry.

He stopped and looked around. Spotting a man intently watching the cocooned patient, seemingly quite concerned, he waved him over:

"Do you know him?"

"I don’t..."

The man instinctively shrank back, wanting to escape, but suddenly a strand of grass twined around his ankles, binding them tightly. Garrett saw this and couldn’t help but smile slightly:

Dear priest, your thoughtful actions are much appreciated!

To prevent the man from fleeing in panic, Garrett did not expose the priest’s actions nor did he look back to thank him. Instead, he lowered his voice and asked:

"How long has he been like this? I mean, in this insane state?"

As he spoke, he discreetly cast a calming spell. The divine magic had a good effect, and the man’s trembling voice gradually steadied as he looked up at Garrett:

"I’m not sure. I’ve been locked up for almost a month now, people dying now and then, others thrown in... Anyway, he was already here when we boarded."

Tupac Demir tensed up, his ears perked, listening to their conversation. Seeing the high-ranking caster approach had alarmed him; seizing the opportunity when the old man entered the building, he tried to escape but was stopped by the guards, pretending to be insane.

Luckily, a wrong move drew the target closer—

Damn, why isn’t he coming over now?!

Grass could only bind ordinary people, not him; as soon as the target got close enough, he was confident he could kill him!

Never mind, better he didn’t come. With high-level professionals around, he’d better stay quiet for now, waiting for a chance. The assassin gradually calmed down, straining to eavesdrop:

"Besides him, is there anyone else..." Garrett raised his hand to his head:

"Whose mind isn’t right? Or anyone else foolish or mad?"

"Yes, yes!" The man quickly nodded. He turned around, the grass under his feet already dispersing, allowing him to step forward peacefully and point towards a group:

"Look there, that’s Shana, ever since her child was dragged away by wolves, she’s been all dazed and confused; there’s also old Ron, who’s been getting more unrecognizable by the day; and..."

In a group of forty or fifty people, four or five exhibiting neuropsychiatric symptoms was already a significant percentage. Garrett followed the man’s pointing, examining these few patients. Even among the vagrants, these patients appeared particularly malnourished, their symptoms of skin lesions even more severe. Garrett thought, their mental symptoms might be connected to their skin conditions...

But what was the connection? Garrett walked through the crowd, and suddenly a foul smell assaulted his nostrils. It wasn’t the kind from

days without bathing, sweat fermenting on one’s body, but...

Diarrhea! Garrett sniffed, his extensive clinical experience immediately providing him with the answer. One or two people with diarrhea was manageable, but a plague would be disastrous!

Let alone cholera, even dysentery, if it broke out next to the hospital, would be enough to give him headaches!

Garrett stepped quickly to intercept a man just returning from relieving himself:

"Diarrhea?"

"Yes!"

This vagrant was dirtier and more panicked than the last. Garrett asked him amiably:

"How long have you had diarrhea?"

"It’s been... ongoing..."

"How long? A week, half a month, a month, three months, half a year?"

The vagrant’s dark pupils dilated slightly, showing a hint of confusion. His gaze drifted upward, as if pondering, before he finally shook his head:

"For a long time..."

Garrett breathed a sigh of relief. A long time meant it wasn’t cholera; cholera couldn’t last that long, and it was likely not dysentery either.

He stopped a few more people to ask, all indicating that the diarrhea had been ongoing for months to half a year, intermittently. Moreover, among those with mental symptoms, some also had diarrhea and nausea.

So...

Symmetrical skin lesions, non-solar, gastrointestinal symptoms, mental symptoms...

What could be the disease presenting these symptoms simultaneously?

A skin disease?

A rheumatic immune disease?

Nutrient deficiency?

For some reason, Garrett thought of beriberi. This vitamin B1 deficiency disease, easily confused with athlete’s foot—both even sounding similar.

But actually, beriberi could affect the nervous and cardiovascular systems, the former presenting as peripheral neuropathy with sensory and motor disturbances, the latter as weakness, fatigue, palpitations, breathlessness, and even heart failure...

It somewhat resembled the current case. But still, not quite the same. Garrett felt he was close to the answer. Just one step away!

Alas, differential diagnosis was still needed. Like whether the mental disease might be linked with the skin and gastrointestinal symptoms in some disease, or might be isolated; that woman might have suffered a severe shock, the old man might have Alzheimer’s...

Diarrhea was even more probable. Without examining everyone, it was really too early to make a diagnosis!

He headed towards Master Knox’s clinic—the grass hut—placing down a shelter nearby. He looked left and right, then let out a loud whistle.

In a moment, Silver Moon Deer carrying Cirilla responded to the call:

"Appa, keep an eye on them here. If anyone’s condition worsens, just cast a healing spell." Garrett tiptoed to ruffle Appa’s soft fur on top of his head:

"Call them in one by one, ask about their medical history, examine them. Cirilla, you take notes!"

"Alright!"

The young silver dragon girl happily agreed. Taking the 【Endless Ink Pen】, she cheerfully twirled it around her fingertips. Garrett surveyed his surroundings, calling to the guards:

"Could you help me, please? Bring that bundled-up guy over—yes, that one, bring him here first!"

Tupac Demir: !!!

I’m getting close to the target!

Should I make my move now?

That deer looks strong! And that elven girl, I wonder what level ranger she is...

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