Chapter 62 Removing Stitches

Chapter 62: Removing the Stitches

Imuir was poked intermittently and didn’t dare to move away. He stayed silent, stunned, as Bai Yu tucked him into the blanket. After changing into his pajamas, Bai Yu also climbed into bed, occupying only half of the space, generously leaving the other half for the kitten. Even if the kitten rolled around several times during the night, it wouldn’t fall off.

After Bai Yu spread out and adjusted the blanket, he repositioned the kitten.

He placed the kitten in the middle of the bed, slightly below the two pillows, ensuring it was properly covered by the blanket.

Imuir: “…”

The doctor didn’t immediately go to sleep. He had just turned on the reading light and casually picked up a book, quietly reading as if he intended to read for a long time.

This meant Imuir was leaning against the doctor’s thigh.

Just a bit higher, and it would be…

Imuir gritted his teeth, thinking, “Damn it, this is utterly disrespectful!”

The doctor from this shady clinic not only had a ruthless heart but also behaved in a shameless and indecent manner.

The co-ruler of Illyria could not endure such humiliation. Imuir quietly extended his paw, inching away slowly, trying to preserve the dignity of a duke.

But he was soon discovered.

Bai Yu noticed the kitten slowly moving away. With his left hand holding the book, his right hand casually scooped the kitten back and placed it beside him, casually saying, “Why are you moving around? Aren’t you cold?”

Outside, the cold wind howled, and a light snow had fallen during the night. Frost and mist condensed on the windows, and even Bai Yu felt cold. Imuir, having lost too much blood, would only feel colder.

As Bai Yu pulled him back, the fur on Imuir’s tail bristled. He cautiously observed the doctor, but the doctor seemed to have just made a casual movement, not paying attention to him, instead continuing to read with lowered eyes.

Bai Yu looked calm and focused while reading, his silver-framed glasses resting on his nose bridge, reflecting a faint light.

Imuir had to admit that the doctor indeed had a good appearance.

His fingers holding the spine of the book were long and elegant, with clear knuckles. The nose bridge behind the glasses was handsome, and his slightly lowered brows exuded a cold and distant aura. In short, he perfectly matched Imuir’s stereotype of a black-hearted doctor.

Having just failed an escape attempt, Imuir was afraid of angering the doctor again. He didn’t dare to move, quietly curling up next to the doctor’s thigh.

For a while, the only sound in the room was the doctor flipping through the book.

“…”

The book the doctor was reading was “The Kessolier Poetry Collection,” compiled by bards from the old era. It included widely circulated folk tales and ballads from Illyria. Churches generally used this book as an introductory text for young children, but once they grew into youths, they no longer read such books.

Yet the doctor seemed to enjoy it immensely.

The rhythmic sound of flipping pages was soothing, like white noise. As Imuir listened, he began to feel sleepy.

The doctor’s body heat warmed the blanket, which kept the cold wind at bay. Although sleeping against a strange man’s thigh was quite embarrassing, Imuir eventually gave in to drowsiness. Moments later, when the doctor closed the book, Imuir had already tucked his paws in, curling into a fluffy ball.

In his daze, someone pressed a fingertip against the fur on his head: “Sleep now, little cat.”

Bai Yu dimmed the reading light slightly.

He had no intention of sleeping and continued flipping through the poetry collection.

66 had been in a state of self-isolation but was finally starting to come around, seemingly accepting reality. However, it still refused to perch on Bai Yu’s shoulder as it had with the previous two hosts, instead floating at a distance and yawning softly: “Host, it’s almost midnight. Aren’t you going to sleep?”

Bai Yu: “I’ll finish this section.”

66 asked curiously, "What book is so interesting?"

Bai Yu tapped on the paragraph with his finger, "I'm not reading the book; I'm examining these annotations."

66 looked as instructed and saw large annotations on the paragraph.

These annotations varied in shape, including circles, triangles, and other strange shapes that 66 couldn't describe, like some cryptic symbols or secret code.

Bai Yu closed the book and rubbed his temples, "If I'm not mistaken, this is a translation of some kind of cipher or encoded message, and the gathering at the West Cathedral on Saturday might be related to this."

Using books to translate ciphers is a common method among various underground organizations, where characters and numbers correspond one-to-one, and after some transformation, agents can convey a lot of information with a string of numbers.

It's unclear which organization the original owner belonged to.

The original novel text was banned, and even the system only knows the key plot points, not the details.

Bai Yu's specialty is not cryptography, he tried to decipher it, but lacking the corresponding text, he had to set it aside temporarily. He placed the poetry collection aside and turned off the reading light.

He slept soundly through the night.

*

The next day, when Imuir woke up, he heard the sound of meat being chopped again.

He had food, a warm blanket, and plenty of rest. Imuir shook his fluffy tail, feeling much better.

The steady rhythm of chopping echoed from the kitchen next door, one after another. Imuir's ears twitched, and he quietly moved to the edge of the bed, pulling at the door and peeking out cautiously.

Through the crack in the door, he smelled the briny scent of fish again.

The kitten wrinkled his nose.

...Is it for me?

It was hard to believe the stern-faced doctor would chop meat and cook for him.

After a day of interaction, Imuir finally realized that the doctor had no immediate plans to kill him, nor did he regard him as a disposable experimental subject, because no one would lie in the same bed with an experimental subject and share a blanket.

Imuir thought about it, his current role was likely that of a pet the doctor had taken in, to warm his hands and bed, and to provide some amusement.

That's why the doctor repeatedly emphasized "behave well."

After all, the only advantage of keeping a fragile creature like a cat as a pet is that it is obedient and docile. If it's not obedient enough, the doctor would probably discard him soon and look for a new pet.

The platinum puffball's gaze was intense. He leaned against the door, his tail swaying back and forth, curled up into a fluffy dandelion.

The "dandelion" calmly thought about it.

At this point, he could only stay as a pet.

All the clinic's doors and windows were sealed shut, Imuir checked, he couldn't open them, nor could he get out. Besides, he couldn't pinpoint the clinic's location in the city yet, with the physical strength of a cat, whether he could return to the Duke's mansion, and finally, his uncle would definitely search the whole city, and showing up rashly now would almost certainly mean death.

In comparison, being the doctor's pet was still a reasonable option.

For Imuir, being a pet had its advantages and disadvantages.

The advantage is that Imuir didn't have to worry about his survival or food, the doctor has a stable income and a decent social status, Imuir was equivalent to having a temporary shelter, he could recuperate in a quiet environment and wait for the mutation period to pass.

Imuir's mutation period is very long, and there was a brief period of excruciating pain in the middle. If he were wandering on the street, without food and clean water, life would be very hard.

The disadvantage is that he had to act obedient and well-behaved to be a proper pet.

Duke Imuir prided himself on being adaptable, so pretending to be obedient wasn't difficult.

However, the bigger problem was that the doctor might perform surgical alterations on him.

In fact, cat declawing procedures were quite common in this city-state.

Many ladies and gentlemen in Illyria kept cats as pets, and Imuir had seen them carrying cats to tea parties more than once. The upper-class elites even competed to see whose cat was better behaved. To prevent cats from ruining the beautiful dresses of these ladies and gentlemen with their claws, some had their cats undergo declawing surgeries.

The doctors in the clinic would use a knife to remove the last bone of the cat's claws, permanently depriving them of the ability to grow sharp claws.

If the doctor performed such a surgery on him, Imuir would permanently lose his finger bones once he returned to human form, which was clearly unacceptable.

While pondering this, he listened attentively to the sounds outside. The chopping meat continued for twenty minutes before stopping.

Imuir nimbly jumped back onto the bed, lay down gracefully, and closed his eyes, pretending to sleep.

The door creaked softly, and the doctor entered.

The doctor stood by the bed.

The doctor gently turned him over, placing a finger on his abdomen.

For the surgery, Bai Yu had shaved off the fur around the wound, leaving only bare, pink skin. The doctor's fingertip pressed directly against the flesh, and Imuir couldn't help but want to squirm away.

No one had ever dared to touch the abdomen of Duke Imuir before.

But the doctor examined him meticulously, not missing a single detail. Due to his nearsightedness, Bai Yu leaned in very close, and Imuir could even feel the warmth of his breath. Just as the duke began to wonder if pretending to sleep was a good idea and whether he should feign waking up, Bai Yu left.

He placed a bowl of milk and fish paste in the corner.

Once the door closed and Bai Yu's footsteps faded, Imuir cautiously sat up.

Gone?

He tentatively took a step, then another, before jumping down from the bed.

Today, there was not only milk and fish paste, but the doctor had also gone to the morning market and prepared some mussels and raw meat, all fresh from the morning, to supplement his nutrition.

Imuir stuck out his tongue and licked.

He squinted contentedly.

The mush was soft and easy to swallow, with a mild flavor that suited the sensitive taste buds of a sick cat. Though the doctor was a bit shady, he definitely knew how to prepare cat food.

Imuir thought: Considering how the doctor had been treating him these past few days, when he got back to the duke's mansion, he'd go easy on the doctor.

In the following days, Imuir enjoyed fresh food every day.

Sometimes it was scallops, sometimes beef, or various other fresh meats, with milk served daily, all chopped into a mushy consistency.

The doctor's expression stayed serious, and the sound of chopping meat kept going every day. Imuir grew increasingly accustomed to the noise, even able to fall asleep peacefully to its rhythm.

Except for the first day when the doctor had taken him to the operating table and injected him with something unknown, Imuir lived peacefully in the house.

On this day, the sound of chopping meat resumed as usual, and Imuir pushed open the door with his paw, sticking his head out.

The chopping noise didn't stop.

Imuir crept a few steps and reached the kitchen door. Using the door for cover, he peeked out again.

...Is he really cooking for me?

He really is cooking for me!

He saw the doctor.

Bai Yu's back was lean and tall, seeming incredibly tall from the kitten's perspective. He was wearing casual clothes, his torso cinched by a waistband, outlining the lines of his waist and abdomen, which then disappeared into his wide trousers. His hand holding the knife was exceptionally steady, cutting the meat with the elegance of an artist sculpting.

66: "Host, your kitten is peeking at you."

Bai Yu: "Hmm?"

He turned his head slightly and looked towards the door.

Imuir: "!!!"

He bolted without looking back, his paw pads tapping softly on the floor, leaving a faint sound.

Bai Yu barely caught a glimpse of a white-golden tail flicking past the door.

He put down the kitchen knife and touched his chin: "He's very spirited; seems like he's recovering well. We can proceed to the next step."

66 felt a chill run down his spine: "What next step?"

Bai Yu didn't answer the system and continued with his actions.

So, after Imuir licked clean the fish paste and was about to take a nap on the windowsill, he was suddenly grabbed by the nape of his neck and lifted up.

"...Meow?"

Imuir stared at the doctor, confused, his lake-blue eyes brimming with doubt. Facing the doctor's cold, unapproachable expression, fear belatedly crept into him.

...What is he going to do?

The doctor held him and walked downstairs.

Before him lay an iron-gray examination bed, a mottled partition curtain, and rusted metal dividers.

This was the doctor's clinic.

The second floor served as Bai Yu's residence, with warm tones and a sunny ambiance. The first floor boasted only a square window, as narrow as a sniper's window in a bunker, unable to let in sunlight, permeated with a cold, deathly atmosphere.

"..."

A chill began to creep through Imuir's limbs.

Having lived in the bedroom for a week, he had nearly forgotten that this was the doctor's workplace.

Bai Yu set him down on the cold operating table, fastened the straps again, and soothingly scratched the kitten's chin.

It was the fifth day after the surgery, and it was time to remove the stitches.

In this era, there were no absorbable protein threads, and leaving the sutures in the body for too long could cause inflammation.

Removing the stitches wasn't too painful and didn't require anesthesia. When Bai Yu prepared the tools, he noticed the kitten was trembling.

Those lake-blue eyes stared at him, though it was just a cat, it seemed to have human emotions, like pleading or fear, as if it was silently questioning:

...Am I not just a pet?

But it's perfectly normal for a cat to be scared. All cats are scared of the vet, and there are even a few that have a "serious beef" with Bai Yu—they swipe at him on sight. No matter how scared they are, the stitches have to come out.

Bai Yu gently rubbed the kitten's head, his voice softening: "It's okay, buddy, it'll be quick."

As the alcohol touched his abdomen, Imuir's body tensed up abruptly.

Before the first shot, which felt like fire, he had also been swabbed with alcohol.

"Damn it." The Duke gritted his teeth again, feeling tricked and played. He was mad at himself for trusting the doc so easily and was furious and disdainful of the doctor's manipulative tactics. For a moment, he wasn't sure whether he was more frightened or angry, and he muttered, "Doc, you better not let me..."

Before he could decide what to do, Bai Yu had already undone the restraints on the examination table.

—It was just taking out the stitches. Bai Yu was so good at it that Imuir, all tensed up, didn't even feel a thing.

Then, the cone around his head came off too.

"...What?"

Imuir looked back in disbelief, getting his first look in days at what his belly looked like now.

On the exposed skin, the wound had mostly healed, leaving only an ugly scar winding across his abdomen. It looked bad, but at least it didn't hurt anymore.

"...?"

...Were the doctor's previous actions treating his wound?

It sounded incredible, but it was the only explanation. Imuir wagged his tail, his anger dissipating.

He stared suspiciously at his abdomen.

Well, the healing was good, no bleeding or infection. The only problem was, where was his fur?

A large patch of his abdomen was bare, starkly contrasting with the fluffy and beautiful fur beside it, looking particularly conspicuous, like a case of alopecia.

At that moment, Bai Yu happened to take off his gloves and throw them into the wastebasket. Seeing the platinum puff's actions, he actually chuckled.

The doctor said bluntly, "Looks terrible."