“Dyeing…?” said Glenn, puzzled.
Arahnia nimbly wove the thread between her fingers. In doing so, she completed a magnificent spider web between her four arms. The hexagonal geometric pattern looked like a work of art. Glenn once again thought that Arahnia’s skill was marvelous, to be able to make such a piece of art in such a short time just by fidgeting with her hands.
“You’re skilled at dyeing, are you not, Doctor?” she asked.
“Huh? No, I don’t believe so… I don’t have any experience with dyeing clothes or anything like it,” Glenn replied.
“Why, whatever do you mean? Aren’t you always dyeing Sapphee’s face red? I wonder exactly what colors you use to get the lovesick Sapphee so bright red?”
“Arahnia!” Sapphee cried.
Glenn realized that what he had thought to be a serious conversation was in fact just a way to tease him and Sapphee. With her face just as red as Arahnia had described, Sapphee went to berate Arahnia, but thanks to her superb ability to run away, the arachne had already escaped the treatment room. Arahnia was just as fast as ever, in contrast to her body’s colossal size.
“Looks like she’s got you all wrapped up, Dr. Glenn,” said Kunai.
“Well, she is playing with some thread, right…?” Glenn replied.
“Hahaha. I’m glad to see you’re doing well enough to make such jokes,” Kunai said. “Don’t think about it too much.” Kunai seemed to enjoy those types of jokes. Her expression turned gentle.
“This isn’t anything to laugh at!” Sapphee said, the only one angry, her face bright red. Glenn felt bad about it, but he found Sapphee endearing when she got angry with someone for pointing out her feelings for him.
Of course, he realized that saying so to Sapphee would only make her angrier, so he kept those thoughts to himself.
***
Glenn just kept getting busier and busier. Balancing his daily business of examining patients with making preparations for Skadi’s surgery proved to be a difficult task. He had to leave the clinic to Sapphee more and more frequently, always going in and out of the Central Hospital and the Kuklo Workshop. He had also consulted with Kunai and decided on the date he would go to the Council Hall. The day he would speak directly with Skadi was drawing near.
He felt bad about leaving Sapphee to watch the clinic while he was gone. He was entrusting her with work that he was supposed to handle, and he knew it was a burden. Although the helper fairies and Arahnia were there as well, Sapphee was the one who had it worst.
Now that he thought about it, Glenn had been so taken up with things he had to do that he hadn’t properly talked to her. Despite sleeping under the same roof, he hadn’t shown any concern for her struggles. He realized that while he couldn’t relieve the burden he had placed on her, he should at least give her some words of appreciation. He knew that she tended to let her suspicions run wild.
“You’re thinking about another woman right now, aren’t you Glenn?”
“Eh? Uh, no—” replied Glenn, flustered at being called out for his inner thoughts.
“Believe me, I understand,” Cthulhy replied, worming her tentacles across the floor as she walked forward.
Glenn wondered how she had known, and if perhaps his mentor was well versed at reading others’ minds. As he thought about it, he had heard that Cthulhy could carry on a normal conversation with Skadi. Was that because of their deep friendship or because his mentor could read everything from her expression all the way down into her soul?
Though he thought such an idea ridiculous, Glenn also found himself considering that, given Cthulhy’s unfathomable nature, it might not be so far-fetched after all.
“But right now, you need to focus only on your job,” Cthulhy continued.
“…Understood,” Glenn replied. He was worried about Sapphee, but Cthulhy was right—he couldn’t afford to be caught up with her right now.
He had come to visit the Kuklo Workshop again, this time with Cthulhy accompanying him. There was the smell of burning iron and the sound of hammers hitting steel. Through it all was the feeling of intense heat on the skin.
“This place really is hot,” Cthulhy said, knitting her eyebrows. Cthulhy was originally an aquatic monster, and fundamentally disliked fire and hot air because of how it dried out the mucus that protected her. Glenn watched her biting down on the tips of her tentacles. It seemed that the workshop was a very uncomfortable place for her to be.
“You should fix that tentacle-biting habit of yours, Doctor,” said Glenn.
“It’s just like sun-dried squid. Chewing on them relaxes me. You can chew them too, if you want, Glenn,” she replied.
“I’ll pass…”
Cthulhy had a bad habit of trying to force Glenn to eat her tentacles from time to time. The tentacles of the scylla were a delicacy, but Glenn still didn’t have any interest in tasting them. He had heard that in a region far to the west, there was a restaurant where scylla cut off and cooked their own tentacles, but he wondered if that sort of business was even successful. Their tentacles grew back quickly, but nevertheless, Glenn would be distressed to have them offered as food. Not only that, since the chefs were cooking their own bodies, it meant that no one could possibly criticize their cooking, making the situation even more complicated.
“Let’s finish this up quickly,” said Glenn.
Deep inside the workshop, the boss had taken up a position with his arms crossed. He had on the same frown as usual, and a chieftain-like dignity about him.
“Oh, you came. I wouldn’t have expected you to come yourself, Director,” said the boss.
“I’ll be the one using the tools, so it makes sense that I would want to see them directly, doesn’t it?” Cthulhy replied.
The boss pointed to a workbench covered with a high quality piece of cloth, on top of which were the freshly completed, flawless surgical tools.
“Here’s what you ordered. Nothing should have been overlooked, but please see them for yourself,” he said.
“Hmmm…” Cthulhy said, taking a scalpel in her hand. The blade tip was sharp, and it didn’t have any sort of sword-like roughness to it. The edge of the scalpel was smaller than the tip of a finger, but it was keen enough to pierce skin at the slightest touch.
Cthulhy scrutinized the scalpel, and Glenn thought that she had confirmed its integrity when finally—
“Hng.”
Cthulhy turned toward one of her tentacles and quickly ran the knife across it. Its sharp edge amputated the octopus-like tentacle with ease. The tip—a piece of flesh about as small as Glenn’s pinky—fell to the floor with a plop. The piece of tentacle wove back and forth slightly on the ground before finally falling still.
Glenn was dumbfounded, but Cthulhy wore a nonchalant look on her face.
“It cuts well. I love it,” said Cthulhy.
“…Can you please not try out blades on your own tentacles?!” Glenn objected.
“Oh, it’s fine, we’re going to disinfect them anyway.”
“It’s not just a sanitation problem…” Glenn said, at his wit’s end. The regenerative powers of a scylla’s tentacles were strong, and a small bit of it being cut off was sure to heal in a few days’ time. Nevertheless, whether it was Kunai or Cthulhy, Glenn felt there were far too many people who were rough with their own bodies. He wanted them to treat themselves more carefully—needlessly injuring oneself wasn’t something they should be doing.
“There doesn’t seem to be any problem with the quality, either. Boss, I’ll take them all. However, shouldn’t there be more of them here?” asked Cthulhy.
“Yes, thank you for your patronage. The rest are piled up in the back, please take a look,” the boss replied.
Surgical instruments were meant to be disposable. Cutting tools quickly lost their sharpness. There wasn’t time to sharpen them during surgery, and due to sanitation concerns, they couldn’t be used continuously. These conditions necessitated an appropriate number of them be created.
“In that case, can I have you bring all of this to the Central Hospital for me?” Cthulhy asked.
“Yeah. The young guys will bring them later,” replied the boss.
The Kuklo Workshop also made deliveries to the Central Hospital. As such, Cthulhy and the boss had been acquaintances for a while. The conversation between the two of them continued smoothly, as if it was all very familiar to them both.
Glenn looked at the numerous tools laid out on the cloth. With just a single glance, it was plain to see how good the craftsmanship was. The boss was speaking with abundant self-confidence, so Glenn thought they probably cut through dragon skin and scale like butter. They had been completed entirely thanks to the workshop’s high-heat forges, their highest quality ingredients, and the skill and technique of the cyclops craftsmen.
But among them all, there was one kind that caught Glenn’s eye.
It was the surgical needles. Smaller than sewing or fishing needles, a number of them were lined up in the corner. Glenn picked one up, but it was clear that they were of poor quality. They were bent, and none of them were strong enough.
“Oh, those are prototypes,” the boss said, looking at the needles. “Memé tried all sorts of things to make some, but… They definitely aren’t something that can withstand practical use. She’s been stressing over a lot of different things as well.”
“I see,” replied Glenn. If he were to put it harshly, they were a failure.
However, he knew very well that one couldn’t achieve success without failing repeatedly. Glenn and the others were asking for something quite unreasonable in order to make sure the surgery was a success. He imagined Memé’s trial and error was all just natural progress.
“Gonna go meet with Memé, Doctor? She’s locked herself up in the workshop’s prototyping room and won’t come out. If you say you want to see her, I can call for her, but…”
“…No, I’ll hold off for now,” Glenn said, shaking his head after a moment’s hesitation. He was sure that Memé’s head was filled with thoughts of her first real assignment right now.
Memé was still young, but she was an excellent apprentice that had the boss’s favor. This was the first job of a craftswoman with a bright future ahead of her. Right now, Glenn wanted Memé to focus on her own work and not worry about anything unnecessary.
Without saying anything, Glenn had been staring for a while at Cthulhy as she verified the quality of the tools to be delivered. When she noticed Glenn’s gaze, she wiggled her tentacles in protest.
“What? Why are you staring at me, Glenn?” she asked.
“Oh no, I just remembered something,” he replied.
“Are you just now noticing my beautiful good looks?”
“That’s not it… I thought back to my first operation. You summoned me out of the blue, and I had no clue why you were calling me, when all of a sudden, you had me perform my first surgery.”
“That was how it happened, wasn’t it?”
It happened back when Glenn was in the academy. An emergency patient was brought to Cthulhy’s research lab who had been unable to be admitted to the nearby hospital. At the time, Glenn had thought for sure that Cthulhy would be the one to perform the surgery, but she designated her then-student Glenn to be her assistant.
Thinking back, Glenn remembered the surgery was to remove a tumor as well.
The patient was a golem. They were a race that formed their bodies by eating mud, but it seemed that the patient had ingested some foreign substance without knowing it, which then became the core of a tumor that formed around it inside them. It had taken everything he had just to operate according to Cthulhy’s instructions, and he remembered when he—covered in mud and dirt—finally excised the tumor.
“Ever since then, you’ve done nothing but ask for the unreasonable, Dr. Cthulhy,” said Glenn.
The original reason the patient had been taken in by the academy was because Cthulhy had jumped at the chance for golem-related medical research—although Glenn was sure she hadn’t been lying when she said she wanted to save the patient’s life.
“What’s this? Do you feel bitter that I’m cleverly making good use of you, Glenn?” Cthulhy replied.
“Absolutely not. I’m able to get by now because you were so strict with me, Doctor.”
“How stupid,” Cthulhy replied, showing Glenn a smile. It had been a long time since he had gotten to see his mentor’s smiling face. Cthulhy was rarely one to show her emotions in front of other people. She always seemed languid and lazy, but the truth was that she just wasn’t skilled at being sociable. In reality, it was in her nature to hide away deep in the ocean, and living in a city wasn’t her forte. In this way, her personality was somewhat similar to Memé’s. Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean he would be able to get close to Memé.
“I was strict? Hearing you use the past tense like that is rather sad. I’m still quite strict,” Cthulhy shot back.
“…I’m aware.”
“Well then, in that case, can you go and grab me some water?” Cthulhy said, reclining in a makeshift chair she had found. Glenn knew she was asking for water because her tentacles had dried out quite significantly.
The forge at the heart of the workshop contained a red-hot flame today as well. The cutting-edge forge was the pride of Lindworm, and could make extremely high-quality steel. In addition to the main forge, there were other, smaller forges scattered about the workshop with their own fires roaring, inevitably making the workshop hot. This was why the boss and Memé were so lightly dressed.
It was thought that the cyclops’ characteristic eye was what led them to specialize in smithing. Unlike the eyes of human forge masters, which were worn down by staring into the high heat of forges without end, those of the cyclops had a unique, almost glass-like membrane covering the surface. Their tear glands were also more active, which kept them protected with plenty of fluid. This meant their eyes could always maintain their moisture, and could avoid any long-term damage even when exposing themselves to intense heat. At least, that was the usual explanation.
The uncertainty about the truth behind their eyes arose from the fact that no one had yet dissected one. Cyclops eyes decayed easily, and immediately disintegrated from a cyclops’ remains. The hypothesis that they had a glassy membrane to protect them had been put forth by a scholar who had observed cyclops as they diligently worked at their smithing.
Even if the explanation had come from a scientific dissection, it would have been hard to form any sort of general understanding from observation. The dissection of dead bodies was not viewed favorably. Thus, cyclops research failed to move forward. Their eye was still full of secrets.
Their aptitude for forge work, however, was undeniable, both because of their racial temperament and their bodily characteristics.
“Glenn, what are you doing? Water, ” Cthulhy demanded.
“Yes, yes, Dr. Cthulhy, coming right up,” said Glenn.
“That answer only gets forty points. You don’t have enough respect for your teacher.”
“That’s not true. I have nothing but respect for you.”
“I don’t know about that…” Cthulhy said, looking discontent.
Of course Glenn respected her. In fact, Cthulhy had been the person to try and dissect cyclops remains during his time at the academy. She, too, wanted to know about the structure of their bodies, with their one eye wrapped in mystery. Glenn assumed that in the end, she hadn’t been given the necessary permissions.
If they could understand the mystery of the cyclops, then that, too, could prove useful in medical treatment. The secrets of their single eye—found in no other monster race—might save not only the lives of cyclops but other races of monster as well.
Cthulhy may have done as she pleased, but there was no denying she had a doctor’s sense of purpose to save lives.
“…I wonder what that information could do,” Glenn pondered quietly.
“What?”
“
Oh, it’s nothing, Dr. Cthulhy.”
Glenn poured water into the workshop-made glass cup and handed it to his mentor. Her throat must have been considerably parched, judging by how she gulped down the water.
When it came to technical skill, the cyclops had no equal, and the Kuklo Workshop had put together the most state-of-the-art facilities on the whole continent. Glenn hadn’t given up hope that Memé would complete a high-quality, top-class surgical needle for him. Just like when he, Glenn Litbeit, had been a newbie, and completed his first surgical operation.
As he thought about it, even Cthulhy was turning her expectations toward him—both during his time in the academy and now.
Glenn wasn’t going to see Memé because that would only put pressure on her. She was a delicate girl, sensitive to the stares of those around her, timid, and had no confidence in herself, but Glenn was positive her delicate nature would create a needle up to the task of suturing a dragon’s body.
“What are you grinning about over there, Glenn?” asked Cthulhy.
“I’m just thinking about something that was funny, that’s all,” he replied.
“What a weird boy… Do you want to eat a tentacle?”
“N-no thank you…” Cthulhy was the last person he would ever want to call him weird.
When they were done, Cthulhy returned to the Central Hospital and Glenn returned to the clinic. He didn’t visit the workshop again and didn’t see Memé in the end. However, he had no doubts that Memé would bring him her completed needles with a huge smile on her face.
It was a few days later that Glenn came to regret his decision—when he received word at the Litbeit Clinic that Memé had lost consciousness.
***
Memé Redon had collapsed at the workshop.
Glenn flew out of the clinic as soon as he heard this. Fortunately, there hadn’t been any emergency patients at the clinic, so Sapphee accompanied him. They put up the closed plaque and left the rest up to Arahnia and the helper fairies.
Monster Girl Doctor Vol. 3 Page 11