Chapter 16 Push Open The Door

Hubert shook his head seriously. "No need! Right now is perfect. Otherwise, when Little Cleaner comes back, he'll nag me again!" Completely ignoring Monkey's distress, he began glancing around the room. "Where did Little Cleaner put my lab coat? What a hassle. A doctor has to wear a lab coat!" Muttering to himself, Hubert rummaged through cabinets, searching for his coat. After a long while... "It's actually here... and he even washed it for me! Little Cleaner is the best!" Hubert pulled out a freshly cleaned lab coat, nodded in satisfaction, and carefully put it on. Then, he turned to Monkey with a puzzled expression. "Why aren't you lying on the operating table?" "I..." Monkey forced an awkward smile. He had lived a life of crime—robbery, theft, mugging people in alleys, even running scams outside school gates. But he swore he had never encountered anything like this—someone smiling so kindly while asking him to voluntarily climb onto a "torture device". Yes, to him, the operating table and a torture rack were one and the same. "You don't want to cooperate? That would be... troublesome." Hubert frowned slightly. "I'll cooperate!" "Absolutely, 100% cooperation! Please, just let me live!" The moment he saw Hubert frown, Monkey shuddered. He bowed deeply, then jogged over to the operating table that Virgil had meticulously cleaned, took a deep breath, and lay down! Resist now? Instant death! Cooperate now? Delayed death! If luck was on his side, maybe—just maybe—he could survive! At this critical moment, Monkey once again mentally manipulated himself into submission. "Step one, disinfection." "Step two..." "Just get straight to it!" Hubert stood in place, trying to recall the procedure. After a long moment of struggling, he gave up in frustration, grabbed the scalpel, and positioned himself by the operating table. "I just have one last question—how exactly did you get your medical license?" Monkey, looking like a condemned man on his way to the gallows, mustered his courage and asked. "At first, I failed the exam. Then I heard you could pull some strings by giving a gift, so I placed my scalpel on the examiner's desk. Worked like a charm—I got my license that very same day! Super efficient!" Hubert fondly recalled the memory as he casually pulled up Monkey's shirt, exposing his abdomen. Monkey's face went pale as a sheet. Before he could say a word, Hubert smoothly grabbed a wooden stick—chewed up beyond recognition—and shoved it into Monkey's mouth. Then, he pulled the lifted shirt over Monkey's face. "Mmph?" "Mmmph?! Mmmph!" Monkey let out muffled protests. Hubert, however, seemed to understand perfectly. "Oh, the anesthetic expired, and Little Cleaner isn't back yet. Just bear with it." "MMPH?!" "Mmph... mmph...!" Monkey's eyes bulged in horror. His whole body started convulsing. "No way! If I wait for him to come back, he won't let me do the surgery!" Hubert solemnly shook his head. After seriously contemplating the situation, he karate-chopped Monkey on the neck, knocking him out cold. "This is way more efficient." Hubert nodded in satisfaction. "My knife is really fast. I don't know what you're so worried about!" Muttering to himself, he brought the scalpel down. A spray of blood splattered. "Huh? As expected... he has it in him too." Hubert casually flicked the blood off his fingers and studied the results intently. "Most people don't have this in their bodies. So this extra thing... What exactly is it? It can slow the growth of cancer cells. It's hard to explain scientifically, but if it's connected to the Celestials..." "Could this be what those guys in my head keep calling 'Celestial Fate'? The so-called 'Divine Blessing'—is this how they grant it?" "Wow, zero suspense. And yet they insist on keeping up the whole mysterious act." Hubert continued complaining to himself before falling into deep thought. "So, if we could dissect an 'Immortal'... would that completely cure Little Cleaner's illness?" "Why not give it a try?" Hubert's eyes suddenly lit up, as if proud of himself for coming up with such a brilliant idea. "Huh? Why is his skin getting paler?" "Oh, I forgot to stitch him up!" "What a shame... My knife skills are top-notch, but my stitching skills? Not so much." Hubert clumsily stitched the wound shut. It had taken only a few seconds to cut him open— But a full two hours to sew him back up. "Whew! Ugly? Yeah, a little. But still perfect!" "He lost a lot of blood. Tomorrow, I'll have Little Cleaner buy him some pig's blood to replenish it." Hubert admired his masterpiece with satisfaction, nodding approvingly. For now, this test subject was still... quite perfect. "Oh! What if Little Cleaner sees all the blood in here?!" "But I really don't want to clean it up..." Hubert's face twisted into distress, his mood shifting in an instant. "Forget it, forget it! If he yells at me, I'll just endure it!" And with that, Hubert completely gave up. Humming cheerfully, he dragged out his favorite rocking chair, set it up at the clinic's entrance, and leaned back to enjoy the cold night breeze and the starry sky. "Hey, can you guys hear me?" Hubert suddenly muttered to himself. "How about letting me pull one of you out from behind that door?" Silence. Only the sound of cicadas echoed in the still night air. "Don't be stingy! Just lend me an Immortal Seed!" He grumbled again. A full thirty seconds passed before a cold, detached voice finally echoed in his mind. "You are summoning us?" "Huh?" Hubert looked genuinely surprised. "You guys weren't watching me in real-time? I thought you could spy on me 24/7! And here I was, performing my absolute best for you just now! You should've told me sooner!" Hubert sighed in disappointment, but he quickly adjusted his mood. "I want to pull one of you out from behind that door. Anyone will do! Just lend me an Immortal Seed—it's to save a life." He spoke dead serious, his expression grim. Little Cleaner had once told him—when discussing important matters, always look serious so people know you mean business. "Of course... all you have to do is push open the door." The cold voice replied. "Don't listen to him! That's a disaster!" Another voice suddenly interrupted. "Disaster? What disaster? You stubborn fool! You should've been killed back then!" "Then come and do it!!" Hubert had barely started speaking when the voices in his head broke into an argument. In an instant—a splitting headache struck. "Shut up! I ask, you answer! Don't waste my time with nonsense!" Hubert snarled. A dagger appeared in his hand—pressed against his own throat. Silence. "I need an Immortal." Hubert's voice was calm. "Sure! You don't need to push open the door completely. Just crack it open a little, and the Immortal Realm will establish a brief connection with the door. At that time, the projection of the Immortal Realm will appear in the air, but it won't truly descend. It will, however, bestow blessings on all mortals who possess Immortal Seeds in this world. Their Immortal Seeds will grow more vigorous, eventually meeting your needs." The initially cold voice spoke again, with a hint of amusement in its tone. "How do I push?" Hubert nodded naturally. "You are the door, and the door is you. Deeply meditate and open a small gap in the door that exists in your mind. That's all you need to do." The voice's owner sounded excited, as if thrilled by something. "Alright." Hubert nodded, and closed his eyes. "You're not hesitating?" Seeing Hubert's state, the voice actually sounded confused. "If I've already decided to do this, why would I hesitate?" Hubert was puzzled. "Push it open for just an instant—then shut it immediately!" The old voice spoke again, its tone complicated. "The Immortal Realm will descend sooner or later, but at least this could buy some time." "Old Taoist! Are you looking for trouble?" The cold voice snapped in anger. But the old voice ignored him completely. "Young man, once this door is opened, fortune or disaster—it's impossible to predict. Are you truly going to push it?" "Well..." Hubert fell into deep thought. Several seconds later, he finally asked, still puzzled, "If I don't open it, will there be only fortune, no disaster?" "Heh, well, that's true. This game, sealed for thousands of years, won't change its outcome just because of you. At best, you're just a ripple in the waves, a mere variable." The old voice chuckled self-deprecatingly, shook its head, and fell silent. The others behind the door remained just as quiet, not speaking a word.