Cole rubbed his eyes; an exhausted look painted his face. His original, depraved appearance was gradually returning, line by line, nerve for nerve.

In silence, Cole observed his friend's paralyzed state and remembered Launda. Their helpless positions and inactive limbs were exactly the same; one was just more pathetic than the other.

Mortimer was no saint either. He'd created viruses that killed many, saved the lives of psychopaths and monsters, researched shady, unethical "projects" through the forced sacrifice of the innocent, and turned people into lab rats irrespective of age or gender.

Not only for money—in fact, rarely ever for money. Truthfully, all of Mortimer's actions were fueled by his love for the deranged game of progress and regression. Thinking up the prospects made the hairs on his skin rise.

Cole could never forget the view burnt into his memory, the menacing smile he saw on this man's face the first time they met face to face—a smile from a horror movie, something an ominous shadow gives its prey upon witnessing its downfall, like a hyena feasting beneath a bloody night.

Mortimer was far from the very definition of savable; unlike Cole, he embraced that truth and lived as such.

They weren't even particularly close. Cole found it difficult to pinpoint what made that small string binding both their hearts strong enough to be called... a bond?

It was then that he gasped; a sudden memory flashed through his mind!

During one of his treatments, Cole vividly remembered the moment when Mortimer served as the only doctor in a poaching operation. Many of Cole's comrades had long lost their lives at that point.

The only survivors were him and seven other people. The rare animal they tried to capture was far beyond the capabilities of a squad with over sixty people; seven wounded mercenaries attaining a single hair was wishful thinking.

Cole lay on an arrangement of palm trees on the ground like a bed; his ankle, elbow, and joints had been dismembered, barely hanging on by a couple of veins. A wet blanket was wrapped over Cole's eyes, his breathing countable by seconds as he struggled to maintain air.

He could feel his life slipping from his grip; unlike now, death was the final destination for Cole.

"This might be the end of my journey," Cole blurted with a hollow laugh. "It's been fun and horrible at the same time. A shame to see it end so soon."

"That's a pretty bleak outlook, don't you think?"

Cole heard a strange, unfamiliar voice speak to him. Due to his blinded vision, he couldn't tell who it was at the time, and he didn't care either.

"I'm guessing you're the doctor." He grinned madly. "Dont waste your time! The mission's a flop! We're no good to them alive."

"I'd rather slip into the other world here than be hunted like these filthy animals for life." He concluded

"That's pretty dark, don't you think?"

"And so? Let my final words be that of wisdom!"

"Your dark optimism kinda bothers me." The voice relaxed. "Quite sadly, you won't be dying from this."

"Huh?"

"The wounds are bad but not fatal, which I consider quite strange considering all the blood loss." He laughed. "You're among those one-in-ten patients I always treat."

"Money is a nice commodity to have, but nothing beats the reactions on the faces of people I save."

"...."

"Why the long face?"

"You seem like a nice guy. Why are you involved in these things, Doctor?"

"Simply because I enjoy it, honestly."

"Huh?"

Cole heard a tearing and squishing sound that crawled into his ears, followed by a sharp stinging pain so excruciating he screamed, but his loud yells came out as disturbing muffles. His body panicked in reaction to the pain, but he realized he could hardly move his body from the same position.

"I love medicine, I love treating people, I love experiments. If I took a normal job, I'd be restricted on how much of that I can perform."

Cole grit his teeth through the handkerchief blocking his mouth in pain; the belts strapped to his body were perfectly tied to the trees, and strength couldn't help him break loose.

The maddening torture went on for over two hours; by the elapsing of the first hour, Cole had long since passed out. When he woke up, he felt refreshed, Not a single stitch nor mark on him, his vision almost enhanced, his jaw well set, and his veins somewhat closer than usual.

'Have I been enhanced?' Cole widened his mouth as he studied his arms in disbelief.

With ease, he got to his feet; now his movements and footwork were lighter and quicker.

In the end, Cole completed the mission single-handedly in under three days. The species was a failed scientific crossbreed between a lion, elephant, tortoise, and tiger with multiplied ferociousness and bloodlust.

'Those were the good days.' Cole snapped back to the present.

Cole took another glance at Mortimer's condition. "You bastard! I nearly forgot the hell you put me through!" His veins rose.

He clenched his fist and scowled. "Be thankful I've been through worse, or I'd have held it against you."

Cole wiped his face with his palm. "How can I be sure he'll be treated well?"

"If you join our faction, you can visit him anytime you want." Snider averted looking him in the eye.

Cole turned his gaze to the moon outside the window, smirked, and returned back to Snider.

'I hate to admit it, the Eerie Gothel has me at checkmate.'

Cole parted his lips. "I'll..."

Antadisma's heart tied in loops; Cole's delayed speech steadily shot her blood pressure through the roof. Snider's heart tied in knots, his face focused on Cole's decision as though he offered words of wisdom.

"Join the Eerie Gothel or whatever." He rolled his eyes.

'Petty. At least things went smoothly,' she reasoned.

'Finally. Was all this dramatic buildup necessary? I really dislike this kind of humanity.' Snider was disguised by Cole within, pulling a disappointed internal face.

"I'm so happy you agreed, sir," he joyously rambled out loud.

"Sure."

Snider stretched his hand. "Welcome to the Eerie Gothel. Your initiation starts this weekend."

"Three days away?"

"Yes, sir!"

Antadisma stepped in. "I'll be in charge of the initiation. Better not slack for a moment, Cole." She twisted her lips in repulsion.

'This girl is actually starting to annoy me a little.' Cole kept himself composed as usual.

"Thank you for your cooperation, sir!" Snider dragged Antadisma by the arm. "We'll be leaving to get things ready. I hope your friends get better!"

BANG!

A jesting wind strolled around the room through the window. Cole wasn't too disturbed by his decision; in the end, he'd reap from it as well. Circumstances and blackmail aside, if the Eerie Gothel had a few sane people like Snider, Cole could stomach being there for a year or two.

A salty flavor, along with an empty stomach, plagued Cole's body as he stood. He wasn't hungry, but unsatisfied by the way things concluded. Cole didn't want much trouble; getting blackmailed nearly threw him off the edge.

Hearing Snider's threats made his blood boil; red veins clouded his eyes, and his teeth almost shattered from the excessive clenching. Still, Cole couldn't risk getting into a fight with two Indulgers he was unaware of.

Ignorance about their powers, wavelength, class, talents, and weaknesses left him at a disadvantage. Especially with the bitter encounters he had with Indulgers thus far. Snider didn't seem to be much of a hurdle, but Antadisma, however...

Cole's humiliation before her was another bad event burnt into his memories.

Cole returned to his seat by Mortimer and gave him a warm yet somewhat frightened stare. His heart didn't ache, thump, nor palpitate as it usually behaved in situations similar to this.

In other words...

"I'm beginning to lose empathy for you, Mortimer," he uttered weakly. "Very soon, I might not even care about you at all."

Overcome by grief, Cole's face switched into something hideous even for an old man as he gripped his chest. "This heart of mine can't agree with my mind; it rebukes my memories."

"It won't forgive the things you've done."

'Turning me into a hypocrite as well.'

Cole let his lids fall and sunk back into his chair. "I'm not sure if you're hearing me, but I'm sorry for what I said."

He scuffled at the air. "Lately, I don't even understand myself anymore."

The beeping of the machines, the gas from the ventilators... Mortimer didn't utter a peep nor even twitch his lips, yet the various mechanisms in the room synchronized as though trying to convey something.

Cole wasn't artistic enough to decipher the melodic clicks, beeps, inhales, and exhales, thus concluded:

'He's listening all right.'

"From this Saturday..." He turned to the ceiling. "I will no longer be a corpse digger, but rather the needle purposely kept in a basket of soft flowers."

Cole inhaled a large gust of air, then exhaled sharply.

"All is well, as usual."

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