Donovan hummed lightly.
In the midst of soft footsteps, Mark retreated and walked out of the room, courteously closing the door behind him.
One minute later.
The door was gently pushed open, and a man in his fifties or sixties walked in.
He carried a wooden box by his side, with a faint herbal scent wafting around.
"Master, it's time to apply the medicine."
Donovan didn't speak, merely hummed faintly.
Then, he allowed the estate doctor to begin his work.
As the estate doctor lifted the clothes on Donovan's back.
A clearly visible rotting wound that reached deep to the bone could be seen.
A strong, putrid smell filled the air, causing even the estate doctor to frown.
Seeming to sense the estate doctor's hesitance in applying the medicine, Donovan calmly asked: "Has it become more serious?"
The estate doctor replied, "Yes, it's more serious, Master..."
Donovan seemed indifferent.
He changed the topic, "Old chap, Mark came by again just now."
