He gently caressed his chest, beneath it was the distorted, hateful flesh.
The Plague Doctor seemed to calm down, appearing much happier.
"I've started to like you, Dean Lawrence, indeed, we're of the same kind."
Looking at Dean Lawrence, he continued.
"Then let's proceed with the surgery quickly, implant the remaining flesh into your body... To be honest, I thought you wouldn't survive the surgery, after all, it's the flesh of the Holy Grail."
To a fanatic scholar, truth is the most perfect temptation.
To this, Dean Lawrence shook his head.
"It's not the right time yet, I need time to adapt to it."
As if he held all matters in his hands, Dean Lawrence always gave off a composed aura, as if no matter how dangerous the situation, he could easily resolve it.
For some reason, the image of Horner suddenly flashed in his mind, and it must be said, this mediocre child indeed made a deep impression on Dean Lawrence.
