MC Creative Mode: Wholesale Perpetual Motion Machine

Is Chapter 303 a historical shift? Or...?

In theory, this mechanism should not fail. If it fails, it means that Founder has not yet fully analyzed the underlying rules of this world.

But this is normal.

It's like cutting billions of different objects into countless fragments and then mixing those fragments together.

During continuous stirring, fragments of similar colors may occasionally piece together to form seemingly regular patterns.

If we only observe these macroscopic patterns, we certainly cannot understand the essence of each individual fragment, let alone reconstruct the original appearance by completely analyzing each fragment, and then cut out exactly the same fragments to piece together the same pattern.

Because the whole behind each fragment is constantly changing, it does not have a fixed form.

Even the fact that Zhang Kun's niece could recover her condition by eating candy is actually quite absurd. Although the candy Fang Zheng gave her could indeed heal and restore blood, it's really strange that the little girl subconsciously accepted it.

However, theoretically, even at this level, with all methods limited to what ordinary people can achieve, treating the injuries of the father and son would still be a piece of cake for Fang Zheng.

If we compare the history of human medical development to a hierarchical system, then Fangzheng is at the highest level, capable of finding the optimal solution under any circumstances.

In theory, even with his bare hands and without any surgical tools, Fang Zheng could save their lives within a minute.

But the reality is—the surgery simply cannot be performed.

While dealing with the blood corpse, Fang Zheng had already begun trying to save the seriously injured father and son.

However, the blurry, viscous substance he was fiddling with in his hand was the result of the rescue.

Scalpels and suture needles can be easily created by warping space; temporary surgical sutures can be obtained by disassembling one's own clothes. Unfortunately, even using such indirect methods instead of open surgery, the hastily made scalpels are completely ineffective.

How to describe this feeling?
It's like cutting a pile of loose sand with a knife.

When the scalpel approached the father and son's chest and abdomen, the blade did not cut through the skin or flesh.

Beneath that eerie color was not the internal organs that were expected to require emergency hemostasis and suturing, but a chaotic mass that was constantly changing shape and had no fixed form.

Just like the chaos outside this closed set, lacking observation of the other and the self, Zhang Kun and his son are gradually losing self-awareness.

Like a drop of water spreading out, on this grand scale, Zhang Kun and Zhang Biao, two facets of countless different sets, are intertwined in a certain level of interaction, and the orderly existence that emerges is losing its self-organization and falling back into the abyss of chaos.

As their self-awareness gradually faded, Fangzheng also began to lose its perception of them, and was gradually pushed out of this level.

This fall means that, at this moment, in this small, enclosed group, Fang Zheng is unable to interfere with their condition, nor can he provide any treatment. He will even gradually lose his original understanding of them.

More importantly, both the dying Zhang Kun and his son, and the bloody remains on the ground that Fang Zheng had repeatedly kicked apart and then put back together, firmly believed deep down that this little guy could never save them.

"Tsk..." Fang Zheng flicked his hand, shattering the chaotic substance clinging to his fingertips.

He leaned down helplessly and said to the dazed Zhang Kun, "Hey, just now, didn't you start to believe I had special abilities? Didn't you watch me kill the blood corpse all by myself?"

He pried open Zhang Kun's eyelids, forcing the other's unfocused pupils to focus on his face: "Why won't you believe I can perform surgery on you? Does my face look that unreliable?"

Fang Zheng grabbed their ears and coaxed them, raising his voice, "Think about it carefully. I just used such a big gun to take down a monster that neither of you could handle." He gestured exaggeratedly, "With such amazing skills, you must have practiced martial arts, right? Medicine and martial arts are inseparable. It makes perfect sense that someone who practices martial arts knows how to set bones and heal injuries."

After emphasizing it several times, Fang Zheng suddenly noticed a subtle change.

The chaotic matter that was previously visible in each wound had receded slightly, revealing the actual flesh and blood beneath. In the deep, bone-revealing wound on Zhang Kun's chest, even the stark white bone fragments were faintly visible.

"It worked!" Fang Zheng's spirits lifted, and he immediately pressed his advantage: "Didn't you say I seemed very smart? Since I know martial arts, can carry an iron spear to kill blood corpses, and know how to set bones and heal wounds, it's normal for me to carry some surgical instruments with me, right?"

As this explanation was repeated, Fang Zheng finally felt the real flesh and blood in the scalpel in his hand.

He continued to weave a plausible explanation: "Think about it, you clearly didn't see me carrying a gun, but I still managed to conjure it out of thin air, right? So, isn't it reasonable for me to conjure up some blood bags, surgical instruments, and so on..."

……

"Hiss... It hurts so much..." As the numbness in his body gradually subsided, replaced by an omnipresent, excruciating pain, Zhang Kun's consciousness finally broke free from the chaos.

……

"Yo, finally awake?" A childish voice rang in his ears, pulling Zhang Kun back to reality. He yawned like a bear waking from hibernation, stretched, rubbed his eyes, and said to Fang Zheng, who was eating peanuts, "I haven't been resting well lately, and I accidentally fell asleep... How long did I sleep?"

Fang Zheng tilted his head, his gaze falling on the almost invisible scar on Zhang Kun's neck: "Not long, about half an hour. You were talking in your sleep just now, what were you dreaming about?"

"Are you talking in your sleep?" Zhang Kun propped himself up on his arm and looked out at the thick night, his tone tinged with emotion: "I dreamt about the first time I went out with my father to perform a ritual, and we ended up encountering a blood-soaked corpse and almost lost our lives."

He crossed his legs, put his hands behind his head, and his gaze became distant: "That time was really dangerous. Right on this train, my father and I were badly injured..."

"If it weren't for a skilled young doctor who saved my life in time, I would have truly died before achieving my goal, and my father and I would have had to wait until the next life to be father and son again."

With a long whistle, the train slowly pulled into a station as it traveled through the wilderness.

Zhang Kun pointed to the dim lights outside the window and said, "It was at this station back then. But at least my son and I fought desperately to stop the blood zombies from slaughtering this station, so we didn't disgrace the reputation of my family's shamans."

Just then, heavy footsteps interrupted their conversation.

Thump, thump, thump—someone is striding through the crowded carriage.

A burly man with a face covered in hideous scars pushed through the crowd and walked straight toward them.

*Smack!* A rough, large hand slammed down on Zhang Kun's head. "You brat, what are you doing here?"

Zhang Biao's deep voice was tinged with surprise, "You know how hard it was for me to suppress the blood corpse, so you came all this way to pick me up?"

"Dad? Why are you back early?" Zhang Kun rubbed his head, looking at his father, who was covered in blood, in surprise. "But I didn't come to pick you up. I couldn't get in touch with you these past few days. There's something you don't know—your little granddaughter almost fell victim to the Cat-Faced Old Woman's evil deeds a few days ago..."

"What?!" Before he could finish speaking, veins bulged on Zhang Biao's forehead, and his roar made the passengers in the carriage turn their heads. "Which blind evil spirit dares to touch my granddaughter!"

Zhang Kun waved his hand helplessly, signaling his father to calm down: "Please let me finish speaking first."

He pointed to Fang Zheng, "The girl was saved by this young man. He may be young, but he's very capable. Since his family isn't around, I brought him out to broaden his horizons."

"Young people should be exposed to all sorts of evil spirits, so they don't end up like we were back then, almost falling victim to those things..."

"It's good that the girl is alright." Zhang Biao breathed a sigh of relief, pushed his son aside, and stretched out his arms. "We were lucky this time. The mutation of the blood corpse was dealt with in time, so I was thinking of coming back as soon as possible."

"Wait!" He suddenly leaned closer to Fang Zheng, frowning as he examined him closely. "Young man, haven't I seen you somewhere before?"

(End of this chapter)