“Mr. Hood, I have three treatnt options for you.”
The three of them stood under the dappled moonlight in the forest. Jenkins wasted no more ti and held up three fingers.
“First, I can use this to help you directly,” he began, holding up the wrench he had been carrying at his waist all evening. “The Church nad this the [chanical Repairer]. It can fix most machinery, even ancient automatons. But your arm isn't purely chanical, so I’m not sure if using it will have any adverse effects.”
Mr. Hood nodded, offering no opinion.
“Second, we could cut off your damaged arm, and I can grow you a new one. Or, I could give you so sacred spring water—it’s obtained through a Bestowal and can heal any physical injury. In any case, this would an completely abandoning the chanical arm and returning to a normal human form.”
In Jenkins's view, this was the best course of action, but Mr. Hood’s expression remained impassive.
“Third, if you like having a chanical arm, I could also cut off your arm and install a purely chanical one. I’m not from the Church of Creation and Machinery, nor do I have any friends there. The technology for this kind of arm cos from the Gear Artisans' Association, so I can't guarantee it's completely safe. Moreover, this arm would lack an auxiliary power module, and I might have to use a tulip seed to incorporate so of my own unique designs. In short, it’s extrely risky.”
After Jenkins finished, Mr. Hood thought for a mont, then turned to Magic Miss, who was watching curiously from the side.
“Which treatnt do you think I should choose?”
“That depends on your plans for the future,” Magic Miss replied. “I can't decide your future for you.”
She declined to give her opinion.
“I don’t recomnd the third option,” Jenkins advised. “I’m not sure how much you two know about the recent situation in Nolan, but even without the power module issue, I believe a chanized body could cause problems down the line.”
“Then I'll choose the first option,” Mr. Hood declared, leaning sideways against a tree. His face showed no sign of indecision.
“Oh? Are you sure?”
Jenkins had expected him to choose the second option. After all, whether it was the [World Tree Seedling] or the sacred spring water, both could perfectly grow a new arm of human flesh and blood.
“Let emphasize this again,” he pressed, “the arm grown with the second thod cos with no cost or side effects.”
“I understand, but I want to keep my current arm. It helps to never forget what happened in the past.”
Mr. Hood spoke with firm conviction, and Jenkins once again recalled the long, tragic story of the Carl family curse. At the end of that tale, Jenkins had been forced to kill Mr. Hood's father.
He understood Mr. Hood’s complicated feelings. The old Carl had severed his son’s arm in the catacombs and buried him alive in a tunnel. If it hadn’t been for the old elf, Mr. Hood would have died long ago.
Jenkins wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that Mr. Hood still had nightmares about it every night. He had no intention of changing the man’s mind, nor was he skilled at helping others resolve their inner turmoil, so he simply nodded.
“Since this arm holds a past you can't forget, I respect your choice. You’ve made your decision, so there’s no going back. You're sure about the first option, letting repair it with the wrench, correct?”
“Yes.”
Mr. Hood gave a firm nod. Jenkins first carefully removed the nearly rotten tulip seed from his arm. Then he asked Mr. Hood to hold the limb out level beside him and tapped it once with the wrench.
Magic Miss waited for a mont, but seeing that neither of the n made another move, she asked:
“Is that it?”
“I feel...”
Mr. Hood bent his arm, a smile spreading across his face.
“I think the pain is gone.”
“You’d better make sure,” Magic Miss cautioned. “Is it the pain from the affliction you can't feel, or can you not feel any pain at all?”
At her kind reminder, Mr. Hood pinched himself with his other hand, and his smile grew even wider.
“I can feel it. Oh, I'm pinching pretty hard, too.”
He excitedly swung his arm, even making a full circle with it to confirm he had a full range of motion.
“Candle Mr, thank you so much for this. I feel like I’m young again. I thought this arm would trouble for a long ti, but I never expected it to be this simple. I must repay you, Candle Mr. Your help is beyond... Candle Mr?”
In the midst of his excitent, he noticed his friend’s expression was a little off. The young man stood there holding the wrench, looking sowhat dazed, not even reacting to the cat on his shoulder tickling his neck with its tail.
“Candle Mr?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes, I'm here. How does the arm feel?”
Jenkins seed to have just snapped out of his trance.
“It feels great. I think it’s completely repaired.”
“Let check again.”
He placed his fingers on Mr. Hood's arm, confirming that the flesh-and-blood parts were also perfectly normal.
“What was wrong just now?”
Magic Miss asked from the side.
“Your expression looked like soone who’d suddenly rembered they’d left the gaslight on after leaving the house.”
“It’s nothing, just that feeling of needing to sneeze has gotten stronger. Mr. Hood, could you tell , who was it that first repaired your severed arm?”
In the instant he had tapped the arm, Jenkins had once again “seen” the internal structure of the object being repaired. What he saw was a perfect fusion of human and machine, an arm where both parts worked in seamless collaboration. It possessed a beauty entirely different from the technology of the Gear Artisans' Association. Despite his misgivings about integrating machinery into the human body, he was confident that the technology in Mr. Hood's arm would not fail.
The person who repaired the severed arm was definitely not a mber of the Gear Artisans' Association, and the arm didn't look like the work of the Church of Creation and Machinery either. This again gave Jenkins that on-the-verge palpitation; this ti, he was truly just one step away from "sneezing," from "pushing the door open," yet he just couldn't find the way to take that final step.
“The muscles, bones, and so of the nerves were repaired by an elder of mine... It's not convenient to reveal his identity, I’m sorry. He was the one who helped fix it.”
Mr. Hood said apologetically.
“The chanical structure was created by an old friend of mine. He left Nolan a long ti ago; the last letter I received from him was two years ago during the Year's End Festival. He’s a secretive person, a loner, so it's also not convenient for to reveal his identity. But I can tell you this: he is a believer of the pseudo-god, the [God of Fun and Toys].”
This was a rather obscure pseudo-god. Because of the dangerous inclinations of the [Fun] domain, its believers often included so dangerous individuals. But upon hearing of the [Toys] domain, Jenkins subconsciously thought of [Mr. Prankster]. He then stopped himself from thinking further. Whether the two were connected or not had nothing to do with him.
Reviews
All reviews (0)