Chapter 71: The Black Dental Clinic (Part 2)

Chapter 71: The Black Dentist (Part II)

I am a dentist.

But there's someone living inside my teeth. I don't know how to describe it. That day, when I woke up and started brushing my teeth, I suddenly heard:

Hey—

There was no one else in the house; the bathroom was empty. I looked at myself in the mirror, my face expressionless.

Hey—

He called out again.

The voice seemed to come from inside my teeth. Though I didn't understand why I had this feeling, it really did seem to be coming from my teeth.

I tapped my teeth with my toothbrush and heard a muffled sound. He didn't speak again after that.

After finishing my morning routine, I went to work, as I do every day. My dental clinic is in the slums, and I live in the same complex. I just need to go downstairs to get to work, and my commute doesn't exceed five minutes.

This clinic was left to me by my father. On the way to the clinic, I have to pass through a dark corridor, where I grew up.

Later, my father passed away, and it was said that there was metal pollution here, so some neighbors moved away, but new ones moved in.

These new neighbors were all defective products. They knew they were going to die soon, and once they got money, they would take a new hallucinogen called Black Dream, which would eventually corrode their teeth over time.

I never found them annoying because they would come to me to fix their teeth after their teeth rotted.

In business, the worst fear is having no customers, but I always have a steady stream of them.

Due to technological advancements, many dentists have been replaced by machines. Dentistry has become a somewhat retro profession. Many medical pods can treat teeth painlessly, more accurately than humans, and provide an excellent experience throughout.

But they are expensive.

Many people can't afford it and can only come to me for manual work.

I've always served these people, and they call me the Black Dream Dentist.

They say I specialize in treating the aftereffects of hallucinogens, and I never deny it. There's nothing to deny.

The top tycoons are devouring the lower classes, layer by layer. I'm just at the bottom of the food chain.

I can't save these defective products, but I can treat their teeth.

Every day, I have to pass through many of these defective products to get back to my clinic. I often feel like someone wants to kill me. They lie around in the corners, and who knows, maybe one day, after taking too much, they'll hallucinate and kill me.

I've always been aware of this, but I've never thought about moving. I think it's fine to end up like this.

Sometimes I wonder what Black Dream really is.

Why do they lie in the corners after taking it? Aren't the corners dirty?

But I've never tried it. I just repeat my daily life: waking up, going to work, opening patients' mouths, and seeing a mouthful of black teeth. Over time, I can even identify people by their teeth.

Actually, there's not much I can do. No matter how I repair their teeth, they will continue to rot, so I'm just treating the symptoms, not the cause.

But I keep observing these people's teeth. Everyone's teeth are different, and each tiny tooth seems to have its own life.

What a strange thought. I haven't taken Black Dream, yet I already have delusions.

Days passed like this until my teeth started talking.

At first, he just called out, Hey!

Hey—

These "heys" had different tones, as if expressing different moods. I found it very annoying, too loud.

Really, more annoying than those defective products. His voice would accurately reach my mind, and I couldn't escape or cover my ears.

No matter how loudly I played music, the sound from my teeth was always louder.

I asked others if they could hear it.

The assistant doctor looked at me in horror, as if I had asked a very strange question.

No one could hear it, only I could. So, he could only bother me.

It was unbearable, having someone living inside my teeth, or rather, someone living inside another person's teeth.

It must be difficult for both of us.

Sometimes I imagine what it's like for the person living in my teeth. What does he do every day?

Does he brush his teeth every morning too?

I took many pictures of my teeth, one every day. I wanted to find him, to learn more about him.

But no matter what equipment or methods I used, I couldn't find him.

I even consulted other dentists, but the doctor didn't find any issues and instead suggested I see a psychologist.

How unprofessional.

I came to see a dentist, not a psychologist.

I spent money on a specialized dental treatment pod, which cost 30,000 new coins per session.

The high-tech pod didn't detect any problems. "Your teeth are healthy," the mechanical female voice told me.

I was disappointed, but I still kept this habit. The first thing I did every day when I went to work was to turn on the machine and take a photo of my teeth.

Over time, my home was filled with photos of teeth, which looked identical and indistinguishable from one another.

But I felt these photos were beautiful. I am a dentist, and I pay great attention to protecting my own teeth; each one is very healthy.

Sometimes, I would look at these teeth with an appreciative gaze, as if inspecting my own territory.

Later, it seemed he learned how to speak. He didn't just say "hello"; he spoke his first sentence.

"My tooth hurts."

Then a more complete sentence: "My tooth hurts."

"Doctor, my tooth hurts."

I often hear this phrase, "Doctor, my tooth hurts." Almost every patient starts with this when they come in.

At such times, I would patiently ask which tooth hurts and how it hurts. I would tap on the surface of their teeth and ask, "Is it here?" I would turn on the bright light, probe into their mouth, and carefully examine the problematic tooth.

"Doctor, my tooth hurts."

Under normal circumstances, I would handle it this way.

But he confused me because he lived inside my teeth. I couldn't see his mouth or his teeth.

Could there be someone living inside his teeth too?

Would the person inside his teeth also tell him that their tooth hurts?

He's becoming more and more annoying, I thought.

My patience has its limits. He can call me "hello," but he can't keep shouting "Doctor! My tooth hurts!" day and night inside my teeth.

That's impolite.

Very impolite.

One day, while I was performing a root canal treatment, he shouted like that, and my hand trembled. I lost control of the drill and almost pierced through the patient's cheek.

I had to pay some compensation. The patient was a defective product, almost dead, yet he came to my clinic to swindle me.

I paid half of my savings.

Then I began to seriously consider this issue. This can't go on. I must have encountered some problem and need to save myself.

I posted on an anonymous support forum, hoping someone could solve my problem.

But they all mocked me sarcastically. I was very patient, just like with each of my patients, replying patiently.

"I'm not joking, I'm serious. He says his tooth hurts, and I am a dentist..."

I tirelessly replied to the messages from netizens, but no one cared about me. They all laughed at me.

This made me sadder than the person inside my tooth. Why were so many people talking, why were so many people replying to this post?

Why didn't anyone care about me?

Why couldn't they hear me? I mean, I was speaking, but they seemed unable to hear me. They just kept talking to themselves.

We were all talking, but we weren't communicating.

"Doctor, my tooth hurts." The little man started again.

"Doctor, I hurt so much. Can you save me? It's so crowded here."

Of course it's crowded; a tooth is only so big. Even if it were completely hollowed out, there wouldn't be much space.

Well, I'll try to save you.

Saving lives is a doctor's duty. I felt a bit arrogant, and I should treat all patients equally. A patient is in my tooth, and I've only just remembered to help him.

How unkind of me.

I need to be a kind and responsible person.

Since the incident, the clinic has had few patients. My assistant suspected I was sick and resigned a long time ago.

Now, I am the only one left in the clinic, and what I'm doing won't be discovered by anyone.

I picked up the drill in front of the mirror, feeling somewhat nervous. They say doctors shouldn't treat themselves, and I've never treated my own teeth.

The high-speed drill pointed at my teeth. I didn't know exactly where he was, so I could only try each one.

My first target was the third tooth from the bottom on the right side. I can't explain why I chose it first. At the time, I thought that if I had to live inside someone's tooth, this one would be more comfortable. It looked spacious and clean.

Buzz—buzz—buzz—

The machine hummed as it started. The high-speed rotation of the drill produced some heat due to friction, and I smelled the scent of the tooth being ground into powder.

I drilled a hole in that tooth. If that tooth really was someone's home, then the ceiling of his home had been lifted off.

I took a look with a powerful light. It was empty, just an ordinary tooth.

I was a bit disappointed. Where are you?

"Doctor, my tooth hurts." He called me again.

"Don't rush me." I started to get annoyed.

The second tooth, hollow.

The third tooth, hollow.

The fourth tooth, hollow...

I held the drill, drilling into one tooth after another, like a lumberjack rushing into the forest. After the sound of the drill, trees fell one after another, leaving deep holes in my teeth.

I had only one good tooth left.

He should be here.

Facing my mouth full of rotten teeth, I felt an odd sense of relaxation; this was about to end.

It was almost over.

I aimed the drill at this last tooth. I heard the familiar buzzing sound, smelled the scent of tooth fragments, and felt the heat generated by the friction.

It was very real, as if it were right there, not just my teeth but my entire body could feel it.

Buzz, buzz, buzz—

A rumbling sound came from above, and the ceiling cracked.

I stared blankly as the ceiling shattered, as if something was trying to break through.

I saw the drill head come through, spinning at high speed, forcibly drilling through the ceiling, sending debris flying.

I should stop, but I couldn't.

I watched helplessly as a giant drill descended from the sky.

...

"Thanks everyone, my problem is solved."

This was the last message the dentist left on the forum.

Zhu Ning kept scrolling down. The dentist only mentioned that someone lived inside his teeth, and when he reappeared, he simply said it was solved, providing very little information. The netizens seemed unimpressed with such a story.

"What? The story isn't finished, what happened to that person?"

"How did you solve it? Can the OP tell us? I've been hearing voices from my teeth lately too."

"Is the previous post for real or just trolling? It's a bit scary."

"Even though I don't know what exactly happened to the OP, I wish you peace in the future." This was the warmest comment in the entire thread.

Unfortunately, there was no reply. The OP never appeared again, and the thread quickly sank.

People soon moved on to other issues, but when they mentioned it, they found it strange. Yes, there was once a person who claimed someone lived in his teeth, always telling him their teeth hurt.

What happened later?

I don't know what happened later, maybe the story couldn't continue.

He said he had recovered.

This was the last reply from a netizen in the thread.

The dentist never explained how he solved the problem.

Could the dentist himself be someone living inside teeth?

The address of the dental clinic was in a slum, very close to Zhu Ning's previous hive, just a fifteen-minute walk away.

Zhu Ning remembered that when she needed a contaminated area to distract the killers from Yongsheng Pharmaceutical, Prometheus had given her a different address, not this one.

Prometheus probably thought this place wasn't suitable for luring people, or he wanted to ensure Zhu Ning encountered the first clue upon entering.

There must be something inside.

The thread provided very little information and seemed somewhat nonsensical, but after reading it, one felt uneasy.

Despite Song Zhizhang still telling Lin Xiaofeng bedtime stories, his gentle voice seeping through the walls, and this being a place Zhu Ning subconsciously considered very safe, she felt a chill run down her spine.

After reading it, it felt as if something wet was crawling behind her back.

The mental contamination had already seeped through the screen without even needing to go to the scene.

It was a strong aura of contamination.

Ding—

System notification: "Congratulations, you have triggered a random task: The Black Dental Clinic. Task objectives: Help resolve the dentist's heartache, uncover the secret of the toothache, assist in finding the truth of death, and purify the dental clinic. This is a random task, not mandatory. Please choose whether to accept."

"The task will automatically close before dawn. Please make your decision carefully."

Here it comes again, this task holds the truth of Zhu Ning's death.

But what does Zhu Ning's death have to do with dentistry?

Did she visit this dental clinic before she died?

And what does resolving the dentist's heartache mean? How does one resolve the heartache of a contaminant? Is Zhu Ning supposed to become a part-time psychologist for the polluted world?

Zhu Ning clicked "Yes."

"Task accepted successfully. Please complete it before dawn."