The days of being a spiritual mentor in Meiman

Wanda stood in front of the operating table, sorting out her clothes. She was wearing a very typical Victorian-era female worker's clothing: a black long-sleeved shirt with coarse cloth sleeves, a thick cloth suspender skirt with a Scottish plaid pattern, a white apron on the outside, and a headband wrapped in a dark green plaid square scarf on her head.

Schiller saw some stains on her sleeves from the corner of his eye. It looked like some dark liquid. So he asked, "What do you do in Westchester?"

"I inherited a potion shop from my mother." Wanda said as she put her hands behind her back and tied her belt tighter. "I have a small two-story house on Libes Street. The second floor is my bedroom and pharmacy, and the first floor is the potion shop."

"I pick or buy raw herbs every morning, brew them into various potions and sell them in the shop. Occasionally, I also sell some raw materials that I can't use up."

"Jarvis was an apprentice in a blacksmith shop on this street. Later, he was admitted to a mechanical college and became an engineer after graduation. I learned from our neighbors that we have been married for two years, but we don't have any children yet."

Schiller and Strange asked for three more patients. As he expected, the patients' illnesses were all of the kind that required a lot of operations and were particularly troublesome to treat. It was obvious that Wood was deliberately looking for trouble.

But this was exactly what Schiller and Strange wanted. These two professional doctors were least afraid of the sea of ​​questions. Strange's operation was completely muscle memory. While they were cleaning the patient's wound, they could also chat and think about the background settings of the game.

"So you can mix potions?"

"Yes, I am pretty good at making potions. The sales in the store are very good, and sometimes I am too busy to handle it. The money I earned from making potions for a few days was used to pay for my trip here."

Wanda arranged her clothes and began to cut the bandages with scissors. She said, "If I hadn't been chased by those policemen and my magic power had not been consumed too much, I could have prepared some refreshing potions for you."

Schiller glanced at her curiously and asked, "Does magic power have to be used to mix potions?"

"Of course." Wanda nodded, and with a swipe of the scissors she cut open a whole piece of cloth. She pressed the other side of the cloth with a wooden ruler and said, "The key to mixing potions is the timing of injecting magic. Magic injection is required during the brewing process of the potion, and some potions need to be enchanted and re-enchanted after mixing. Generally, the more magic consumed, the more expensive the potion will be."

“How much can the most expensive one sell for?”

"I'm not a very powerful witch in this world. I can only make secondary enchanted potions at best. I can probably sell a bottle for 20 to 30 silver coins. But only nobles would buy such expensive potions. Commoners would only buy potions for a dozen copper coins at most."

Schiller sighed. Wanda's minimum wage was higher than both of their highest wages combined.

"Can you do this in real life?" Strange asked suddenly.

"Ah?" Wanda uttered a short but doubtful syllable, and she said, "I'm not a traditional witch... uh, I'm not a witch, I'm a mutant."

"Then why do you have such a code name?"

"This is very complicated." Wanda sighed and said, "When I was young, in order to hide the fact that Pietro and I were mutants, we moved frequently and lived in more remote places as much as possible."

"I occasionally display some abilities beyond those of ordinary people, which are noticed by some people. People in some remote villages don't know what mutants are, so they call me a witch."

"And because most of the powers I used were scarlet, they started calling me the Scarlet Witch."

"In fact, I think that many of the witches who were victims of the witch hunt were female mutants." Wanda said a little frustrated, "Just like me. If I lived in that era, I might have been burned to death."

"Can't you deal with a few ordinary people?" Strange said as he cut out the abscesses growing on the surface of the patient's liver.

"It's fine now, but what about when I was a kid? I wasn't that strong back then, nor was I that stable. I didn't know how to use my abilities properly. If I were caught by them, I might kill one or two out of instinct, but in the end, there would be no good result."

Wanda placed the cut bandages on trays, half on each of the two tool racks sandwiched between the three beds. She stacked the waste trays and set them aside for disposal, then placed the used and temporarily unused tools on the trays for washing.

Because all of these patients had extensive injuries, such as skin ulcers, pustules in the internal organs, deformed limbs, etc., there was everything on the waste trays and tools, and the smell of blood mixed with the stench of excrement was so bad that some people could not even open their eyes.

But Schiller found that Wanda didn't show any disgust. She put on her gloves, picked up the brush and started to brush. This made Schiller sigh that Wanda was born to be a nurse.

"You know what, ma'am? Even in the best hospitals and the best departments in New York, interns who graduated from the best nursing schools will not be as calm as you when they first enter the operating room."

“Really?” Wanda smiled and said, “It’s nothing for me. When I was 13 years old, I worked on a ranch in Nevada. I worked 12 hours a day in a barn full of cow dung. I also castrated goats and set the bones of newborn calves…”

"Did you meet your biological father at that time?"

"Yes. But I had a quarrel with him, so I ran away. I wandered around the world for a while, doing odd jobs here and there, but I couldn't keep them for long."

"Because they discovered your mutant identity?"

“Not really.” Wanda sighed and said, “Sometimes someone is plotting against me, sometimes the boss is too harsh, and sometimes I just don’t like the job. It can be anything.”

Wanda quickly cleaned the tools and cleaned the three waste trays filled with various residues and bone fragments and put them back on the tool rack. She took the glass jars that Schiller had filled and arranged them in order on the rack, then threw the things that needed to be boiled into the still and adjusted the temperature.

"Oh, my God." Wanda made a cross on her chest and said, "May he have a safe journey to heaven." She picked up the other side of the saw and began to cooperate with Schiller to dismember the body.

"I appreciate your relaxed state, ma'am," Schiller said as he carried the separated bodies. "Most of the new interns are so nervous that they seem like they will faint at any moment and dare not even take a step further."

"That's because you two are top doctors." Wanda wiped the blood on the operating table with a rag, and then said, "Maybe you have always been their role models on the road to medical study. It's always nervous to work with your idol."

"Aren't we your role models in your medical studies?" Schiller asked with a smile, turning around.

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"My medical journey has not yet begun." Wanda threw the blood-stained rag onto the tray beside her, changed to a new rag and continued wiping. Then she said, "Maybe when I embark on this path, I will also realize your greatness and become as nervous as a little girl."

"No," Strange said mercilessly, "When you really start down this path, you'll realize that any doctor who can't finish writing a report has no reason to live, and we often can't finish it, and you'll be so angry that you want to kill us."

"That's you." Schiller immediately distanced himself from the matter. He said, "I've heard from the nurses in the neurosurgery department that you are the person with the most overdue reports in the hospital. Compared to you, I'm just a little bit negligent."

"That's just because I'm busy with the operation, and don't think I don't know that you ask your intern to make up your report. After the game, I will go to your department's head nurse for a cup of coffee..."

"Think it over carefully. If you expose me, no one will write those 80-odd reports for you. Then you will have to use the hanging ring to escape again..."

Strange was not moved at all. He snorted coldly, threw the tumor he had just removed onto a plate beside him, and said, "I don't know who it is, but they have been sending gray fog through the window for a week..."

Schiller, who had been busy for half a day, just had time to drink a sip of water, but when he heard these words, he choked himself to death.

"How did you know? Could it be Tony, that big mouth again? No, how did he know that I…"

"Come here and take this," Strange said. Wanda walked over and took the hemostat from Strange's hand. Schiller pulled the lever and brought in another patient, who was waiting for someone to move the patient to another operating table with him.

Wanda looked back and simply waved her hand. The patient floated up into the air and landed steadily on the target operating table.

The liquid in the distiller was already boiling, constantly pushing against the lid. She waved her hand again, and the liquid flew out of the container and poured into the test tube. She held the hemostat in one hand, and even had time to wipe Strange's sweat with the other.

"That's enough." Strange took back the hemostatic forceps. Wanda quickly walked to the new patient again, gently wiped the blood stains on his eyes with a handkerchief, and whispered softly: "I'm going to anesthetize you next. Relax, it won't hurt soon..."

Schiller had to admit that Wanda was the best doctor in the operating room. Her arrival significantly improved the moral level of the operating room.

Moreover, this also greatly improves the efficiency of the entire operating room. Schiller and Strange can focus on the operation, and Wanda can solve all other problems.

They actually treated nine patients in one morning. Except for the unlucky one whose condition was too serious to be saved, the rest were discharged smoothly. Although they were not completely cured, at least their lives were saved.

Of course, Schiller also collected some extra compensation from them in accordance with their medical level. On the shelf where bottles and jars were placed, a whole row of full glass jars suddenly appeared, containing Schiller's results from this morning's battle. Schiller estimated that he could sell them for at least one gold coin from the bear caregiver.

"It turns out that this kind of money is earned quickly."

Schiller certainly hadn't forgotten his plan to silence the witnesses, but there weren't many times when he really needed to take action, because this hospital didn't have an inpatient department, and all surgeries were done on the spot, with no prognosis to speak of. 80% of patients would relapse, and another 20% would die from infection, which really saved Schiller a lot of trouble.

At noon, the two of them decided to take a break. They were mainly worried that Wanda would get tired. After all, Wanda had worked the hardest this morning. If she got tired and had some problems, they would never be able to find such a good nurse again.

Seeing Schiller and Strange sitting by the fireplace, Wanda thought they were tired. So she thought for a moment and said, "My magic power has recovered well. I'll make you a simple potion to refresh yourself."