Chapter 38: Mary's Repayment
Ethan woke from sleep; bright daylight already filled the window.
He stretched contentedly, inhaled deeply out of habit, savoring the pressure of air flooding his lungs, then exhaled slowly.
Wait. His body felt charged with energy.
It was as though Holy Light had woven through every part of him; with one gesture he could release countless rays.
That morning, the moment Ethan had reached home he'd collapsed onto the bed; a whole day of mental exhaustion had dragged him into sleep.
Waking now, he'd expected after-effects from yesterday's overuse of Holy Light, yet the usual sluggishness never came.
Instead, a warm, abundant energy now saturated his entire body.
Puzzled, he instinctively opened his palm.
With a slight flex, a solid strand of Holy Light materialized—no longer the usual faint glow that needed careful concentration, but a gentle, almost sentient radiance that curled around his fingers, pure and steady.
After so many Resurrection spells yesterday, the Holy Light hadn't weakened—instead it had grown stronger?
Was it improved proficiency, or had rejecting the Shadow strengthened his connection?
Unable to figure it out, he stopped overthinking and simply tested it.
He cast a Healing spell on himself.
A soft, life-filled light bathed him; within the glow was not only Holy Light's pure healing energy, but also what felt like the essence of life itself.
To Ethan's amazement, both the potency and duration of the Healing spell had increased dramatically.
"Just as I thought…" He withdrew his hand, staring in surprise at the lingering radiance on his palm.
A rough estimate told him that in his current state, fully focused, he could resurrect Mary—whose soul had scattered yesterday—with only three castings of the Resurrection spell.
So healing wounds and mending flesh were minor applications; resurrecting the dead and recalling souls—that was Holy Light's true purpose.
Perhaps the idea that "too long dead, soul dispersed, Holy Light cannot revive" wasn't absolute; maybe the caster's Holy Light had simply been too weak.
Understanding this much left Ethan delighted; he felt he was approaching the truth.
Today he would visit Mary at the hospital and settle a few things.
After washing up he changed into clean clothes, feeling refreshed; the abundant Holy Light made his movements effortless.
Without delay he headed straight for the hospital.
Mary's room stood at the end of the second-floor corridor; sunlight through the windows cast warm patches on the linoleum.
Ethan pushed the door gently and saw Mary propped against the headboard; though still pale, she looked significantly better.
She had been gazing out the window; hearing the door she turned, and at the sight of Ethan gave a faint smile.
"Hey, Doctor."
"How are you feeling, Mary?" He walked to the bedside, pulled over a chair, and sat, eyes on the bandaged abdomen.
"Much better—the wound hardly hurts now." She spoke, unconsciously touching the bandage.
"Doctor, some NYPD detectives came for questioning this morning."
Ethan nodded, motioning for her to continue.
"They asked what happened yesterday…" Her voice dropped. "I said I can't recall clear details… only that I turned around and a figure rushed at me, stabbing me from the front.
As I tried to run he grabbed me from behind; in the struggle I may have accidentally stabbed him with my scalpel."
"All right, Mary." Ethan smiled. "Don't worry about the police; for now just rest and recover."
He suddenly remembered: "Oh—yesterday's attacker, do you know him? Why did he come after you?"
Mary fell silent; after a long pause she slowly told Ethan what she hadn't fully admitted to the police—things Ethan had only partially known.
The man had been the boyfriend of the very first cosmetic surgery patient Mary had accepted at the clinic.
Because Mary had performed the surgery on his girlfriend, he wanted revenge.
"Did the operation fail?" Ethan asked.
"It was a complete success, performed exactly to the girlfriend's specifications, and post-op recovery was excellent."
"Then why?"
Mary bit her lip, finding it hard to articulate: "She had requested a nipple resection and vaginal closure."
Ethan leaned forward. "Come again?"
Mary, unable to say it more clearly, gestured: "Remove this," then lower, "and seal this as much as possible."
"WHAT?!" Ethan blurted. "You're serious?"
Mary nodded silently.
"WHY?" he asked the obvious question.
"She said she's a fashion designer… only when clothes hang on a mannequin can people appreciate the pure design. Sexual characteristics make men overlook a person's intellect and artistry. Remove those distractions and she becomes pure aesthetic, untainted by objectification."
"???"
Ethan felt he hadn't understood a single word—the woman was completely delusional.
And her boyfriend was even more disturbed: your girlfriend chose the surgery, yet instead of blaming her or simply breaking up, you attack the surgeon?
The world is vast; nothing is too bizarre.
The revelation was so shocking Ethan momentarily forgot what else to tell Mary.
While his mind still reeled, Mary suddenly spoke.
"Doctor, was it you who pulled me back from death yesterday?"
Ethan looked at her; she stared with an intense gaze, both desperate for and afraid of his answer.
As expected—Mary knew. A medical student who couldn't tell her aorta had been severed might as well drop out and become a barista.
Ethan thought for a moment, deciding to address it directly but lightly.
He smiled and nodded. "Yes. Given how severely you were injured, I paid a great cost—went beyond conventional medicine—to bring you back.
Ah, I'm not fishing for gratitude, just acknowledging…"
Mary gazed at him, eyes shining with emotion, but said nothing.
Feeling awkward, Ethan asked, "I saved your life—won't you even say thank you?"
Mary answered earnestly, "You saved my life; that can't be repaid with a simple 'thanks'."
Suddenly satisfied, Ethan thought, good—she's got integrity.
"All right. After you graduate from med school, come work full-time at the clinic: standard residency hours, two days off a week, and when you're ready to retire I'll make sure you're taken care of. Deal?"
"…" Mary said, "Deal."
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