Free Web NovelPavela blinked.
“Treatment?”
“Yes.”
“How long will it take?”
“If we use conventional methods, it would take at least six months to a year,”
Dr. Lovelace said,
“but I have a faster way.”
“I can use treatment techniques simulated by Return Power to repair all your injuries in a short amount of time.”
“It should take... about two to three hours.”
Pavela was startled.
Two to three hours?
That was more than just faster.
It was practically instantaneous recovery.
What kind of technological marvel was this?
But regardless of the principles behind it, Pavela had no reason to refuse.
She practically scrambled to answer Dr. Lovelace.
“Then when do we start?”
“Now.”
Dr. Lovelace turned and walked toward a door on the other side of the room.
“Follow me.”
Pavela followed her.
The door opened.
Then she saw the treatment room.
Then she saw those mechanical arms.
Countless silver, flexible-jointed mechanical arms.
They extended from every corner of the walls, ceiling, and floor, like a forest of metal.
At the end of each mechanical arm was a different tool—some were scalpels, some were syringes, some were scanners, and some were things she couldn't recognize at all.
Pavela stopped in her tracks.
“Doctor.”
“Hmm?”
“These...”
“This is an Automated Treatment System I designed,”
Dr. Lovelace said.
“They simulate the branches and roots of the Path of the Empress, allowing them to precisely guide the flow of vitality and accelerate wound healing.”
“The treatment effect is excellent.”
“And it's completely automated; it doesn't require any manual intervention.”
“You just need to lie on the treatment table and leave the rest to them.”
Pavela looked at the mechanical arms.
They were currently resting quietly in their places, without any movement.
But she could feel an indescribable sense of pressure.
It was as if countless pairs of eyes were staring at her.
“Doctor.”
“Hmm?”
“Will this... hurt?”
Dr. Lovelace tilted her head.
She thought about it.
“It won't hurt.”
Pavela breathed a sigh of relief.
“But it will itch.”
“...Itch?”
“Yes.”
Dr. Lovelace nodded.
“When old injuries and internal traumas accumulated over years heal in a short time, it produces a very intense itching sensation.”
“This is a normal physiological response, indicating that the tissue is regenerating.”
“However—”
She paused for a moment.
“This itch might be a bit more intense than you imagine.”
“How intense?”
“Well...”
Dr. Lovelace considered her wording.
“Probably... the kind of intensity where you'd want to tear your own skin off?”
Pavela's expression changed.
“Doctor, I think—”
“It's fine.”
Dr. Lovelace patted her on the shoulder.
“You even survived the pain of violently connecting to a mecha; what's a little itching?”
“Besides, during the treatment process, the mechanical arms will secure your body to prevent you from moving and hurting yourself.”
“It's very safe.”
“There's no need to worry at all.”
Pavela looked at the mechanical arms.
Her intuition was screaming warnings at her.
Telling her she should turn around and leave this room immediately.
But her reason told her that Dr. Lovelace was right.
Her body did indeed need treatment.
And if she didn't get treated, not only would she have no chance of piloting a new mecha, she might even drop dead at any moment.
She didn't want to drop dead.
Pavela took a deep breath.
“Alright.”
“Excellent!”
Dr. Lovelace nodded with satisfaction.
“Then let's begin right now.”
“Lie down on the treatment table.”
Pavela walked toward the treatment table in the center of the room.
It was a metal table covered with a soft white cushion.
She lay down on it.
The cushion felt decent, somewhat like a bed in an infirmary.
“Relax.”
Dr. Lovelace's voice came from nearby.
“It'll be over soon.”
Then Pavela heard a sharp click.
The door had locked.
Her heart began to race.
“Doctor—”
“It's starting now.”
Dr. Lovelace's voice sounded cheerful, with a hint of excitement.
Like a perfectly functioning machine about to be shipped out brand new.
Then the mechanical arms moved.
They swarmed from all directions like a group of awakening snakes.
Pavela wanted to sit up.
But it was already too late.
The mechanical arms precisely wrapped around her wrists, ankles, waist, and shoulders.
They secured her firmly to the treatment table.
“Wait—!”
“Don't be nervous,”
Dr. Lovelace said.
“It'll be fine in a moment.”
Then Pavela felt it.
A sensation she had never experienced before.
Starting from her spine.
A warm, liquid-like substance seeped into her body.
It spread along her nerves, blood vessels, muscles, and bones.
The locations of those old injuries began to heat up.
And then—
Itchiness.
Intense, intense, intense itchiness.
It was as if countless ants were crawling under her skin.
As if countless needles were pricking her muscles.
As if something inside her bones was growing, squirming, and tearing.
Pavela gritted her teeth.
She told herself it was just itching.
Just itching.
She could endure it.
She had survived the pain of mecha connection.
What was a little itching?
Then the itchiness intensified.
Tenfold.
A hundredfold.
A thousandfold.
Pavela's mind went blank.
She wanted to struggle.
She wanted to scratch.
She wanted to tear open all those itchy places.
But the mechanical arms held her firmly.
She couldn't move.
Not even a finger.
She could only lie there.
Feeling that itchiness that was nearly driving her insane.
“Doctor—!”
Her voice had changed pitch.
“I can't take it anymore—!”
“Hold on a little longer,”
Dr. Lovelace's voice sounded very calm.
“It's only just begun.”
Only just begun?!
Pavela felt like crying.
And then she really did cry.
Tears fell from the corners of her eyes, flowing down her cheeks and into her ears.
But the itchiness didn't stop.
On the contrary, it grew stronger and stronger.
She could feel her spine reorganizing.
She could feel those misaligned bones returning to their places.
She could feel cracks healing.
She could feel scar tissue dissolving.
Every process was accompanied by that maddening itch.
Pavela didn't know how she survived that period of time.
She only remembered that she kept screaming.
Kept struggling.
Kept begging Dr. Lovelace to stop.
But Dr. Lovelace didn't stop.
She just stood nearby, watching °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° the data on the instruments, occasionally adjusting a parameter.
Her expression was focused and serious.
Like an artist carving her own work.
And then—
At a certain moment.
Pavela's consciousness suddenly cleared slightly.
The itchiness lessened a bit.
She panted, her entire body soaked in sweat.
“The first round is over,”
Dr. Lovelace said.
“Rest for five minutes, then we'll continue.”
“...Continue?”
Pavela's voice was so raspy it was almost unrecognizable.
“There's more?”
“Of course.”
Dr. Lovelace smiled.
“Your injuries aren't just in your spine.”
“There are also your shoulders, ribs, knees, wrists—”
“A total of seven rounds of treatment are needed.”
“We've only just finished the first round.”
Pavela's mind went blank.
Seven rounds.
Six more rounds.
She had to experience that hell from just now six more times.
“Doctor.”
Her voice carried a sob.
“Can I... not do the rest of the treatment for now?”
“No.”
Dr. Lovelace shook her head.
“We've already started; how can we give up halfway?”
“And look.”
She pointed at the data on the instrument.
“The misalignment of the third vertebra has been completely corrected, the compression fracture of the fifth has returned to normal height, and the crack in the seventh has healed by eighty percent—”
“The effect is excellent.”
“Just hold on a bit longer, and everything will be healed soon.”
Pavela wanted to say something.
But she found she didn't even have the strength to speak.
She could only lie there.
Waiting for the arrival of the next round of hell.
Five minutes passed quickly.
The mechanical arms began to move again.
This time the target was her shoulders.
Then the ribs.
Then the knees.
Then the wrists.
Every round was the same process.
Warm liquid seeping in.
Old injuries beginning to heal.
Itchiness exploding.
Pavela screamed, struggled, and cried.
Dr. Lovelace stood nearby, calmly watching the data. freēwēbηovel.c૦m
Occasionally, she would say something like “Very good, keep it up” or “This spot is healing nicely.”
Pavela didn't know how she endured those times.
She only remembered that at a certain moment, she suddenly erupted with the power of the Path of the Tower.
Crimson light burst from her body.
It shattered several mechanical arms.
Then she broke free from her restraints.
She jumped off the treatment table.
And rushed toward the door.
But the door was locked.
She rammed it several times with force.
The door didn't budge.
Then even more mechanical arms extended from the walls.
They caught up to her.
They entangled her.
They dragged her back.
And secured her to the treatment table once again.
Dr. Lovelace walked over and looked at her.
“Your survival instinct is quite strong,”
she said.
“But it's useless.”
“There are enough mechanical arms that you can't break them all.”
“Lie down obediently and let me finish the treatment.”
Pavela closed her eyes in despair.
Then the treatment continued.
One round.
Two rounds.
Three rounds.
Pavela didn't know how many times she had tried to escape.
Nor did she know how many times she had been caught and brought back.
She only knew that every escape attempt was futile.
Every struggle only made the mechanical arms wrap tighter.
Finally.
When the seventh round of treatment ended.
Pavela had completely given up resistance.
She lay on the treatment table, her eyes hollow, like a ragdoll whose soul had been sucked out.
The mechanical arms released her.
They retracted into the walls.
Dr. Lovelace walked over and nodded with satisfaction.
“Very good,”
she said.
“All the old injuries have been healed.”
“You are now a brand new Pavela.”
Pavela did not respond.
She just continued to lie there.
Motionless.
Dr. Lovelace waited for a few seconds.
“Pavela?”
“...”
“The treatment is finished.”
“...”
“You can get up now.”
“...”
Dr. Lovelace tilted her head.
“I didn't turn her brain to mush during the treatment, did I?”
She reached out and waved her hand in front of Pavela's eyes. fгeewebnovёl.com
Pavela's eyeballs moved slightly.
Then she slowly and stiffly sat up.
She got off the treatment table.
And walked step by step toward the door.
Dr. Lovelace pressed a switch.
The door opened.
Pavela walked out.
She entered the lounge outside.
Then she found the farthest corner of the room.
She curled up inside it.
Hugging her knees.
Burying her face in her knees.
Motionless.
Just like she was now.
Pavela stared at the opposite wall.
She could feel that her body had indeed improved.
Those old injuries had disappeared.
Her spine no longer throbbed with a dull ache.
Her shoulders could move freely.
Her knees were no longer stiff.
The strength in her wrists had also returned.
Her current physical condition was likely the best it had been since she transmigrated.
But she wasn't happy at all.
Not at all.
Because she felt that she—
Was no longer clean!
