System 55 shuddered all over, staring warily at Bai Yu: "What do you need a knife for? He's just a frail and innocent little kitten!"

Wasn't a needle enough? A knife too?

Bai Yu: "Forget it, I'll do it myself."

He bypassed System 55 and accurately found a scalpel from the drawer.

The craftsmanship of scalpels in this era was also rough, far from the numerous varieties in later generations. The one Bai Yu held was for human use, oversized, roughly equal to half the size of the kitten. The blade was sharp, long and narrow.

System 55's non-existent hairs were about to stand on end.

With this knife, it would only take two strokes to cut this shivering dumpling in half.

It couldn't help but raise its volume: "Host, I must remind you that if the mission target dies, you will never be able to return to your past world!"

This was the most severe warning the System could issue.

But Bai Yu remained expressionless and said indifferently: "So noisy." Then he picked up the scalpel again.

Actually, this scalpel was not handy, but the kitten's infection was so severe that it had to be surgically removed. Bai Yu could only hold this knife and slowly pierce the skin.

He calmly excised the infected part, drained the pus, and then sutured it. The lighting in the underground clinic was dim, and Bai Yu had severe myopia. He had to squint slightly to complete the debridement under such harsh conditions.

By the time the wound was properly sutured, a layer of cold sweat had broken out on the tip of Bai Yu's nose.

System 55 rubbed up against him.

It had watched the whole process from the sidelines, going from terrified to bewildered and confused. Bai Yu's hands were extremely steady, and his steps were clear and methodical. If this was simple abuse, he had done it a bit too delicately.

System 55: "What exactly are you doing?"

Bai Yu glanced at it and said briefly: "Debridement, suturing."

System 55 revealed a bit of confusion: "..."

Suturing, debridement?

"???"

"Wait!" System 55 flew up, and in a flash of lightning, it seemed to have caught some inspiration, "What is your profession?"

Bai Yu simply disinfected his hands and said coldly: "I'm a veterinarian, can't you tell?"

System 55: "!!!"

"I heard that you once removed over two thousand cat organs, what was that?"

"Two thousand cat organs?" Bai Yu pushed up his glasses, recalling slightly, "Oh, you're talking about cat neutering surgeries, right? I removed the ovaries and testicles of over a thousand cats."

System 55: "...!"

A veterinarian, how could he be a veterinarian?

Could a veterinarian bring himself to abuse cats?

The System felt a bit depressed.

System 55 flew to the side, its heart filled with mixed feelings. For a moment, it didn't know whether to be glad that its host wasn't a cat-killing maniac, or to be sad that the mission had been messed up again.

Bai Yu had no idea about the System's sensitive and delicate little thoughts. He started rummaging around the room, and finally dug out a piece of cardboard from some nook or cranny. He used a charcoal pencil to draw an undulating arc, then took out scissors and cut along the curve.

System 55 stared blankly as its aloof, elite host began doing arts and crafts, completely baffled: "Why are you cutting cardboard?"

Bai Yu: "To make an Elizabethan collar for the kitten, so he can't lick his wound when he wakes up."

An Elizabethan collar is a cone used to prevent cats and dogs from licking their wounds and causing infection after surgery, similar to a neck brace.

He quickly cut the cardboard into an appropriate shape, wrapped it into a circle, and then slipped it onto the platinum dumpling's neck.

Modern Elizabethan collars came in a variety of materials, cute and pleasing. Restricted by the materials at hand, the one Bai Yu made was extremely ugly and didn't match the dumpling's good looks at all.

But now was not the time to be picky about looks. Bai Yu untied the kitten's bindings, placed him carefully, applied some antibiotic medication, and finally pulled over a small quilt to cover him. Only then did he take a break.

Then he poured a cup of coffee and started reading the newspaper.

Although the original owner was just an underground clinic doctor, he was also a rare educated person in Illyria. He could read books and newspapers. Every morning, a newsboy would deliver newspapers to him, never missing an issue.

Bai Yu flipped through the pile of newspapers. Illyria was now chaotic and disorderly. The block he was on was ostensibly under the direct jurisdiction of the Duke's estate, but secretly there were also gangs coming to collect protection fees. However, thanks to his identity as a doctor, the original owner was relatively safe.

Apart from this, there were two important pieces of news.

First, Duke Imuel's uncle, Tia, was accused of colluding with the local mafia to assassinate the Duke, but Tia flatly denied it.

Second, the news of Duke Imuel's disappearance was confirmed, and his return date was uncertain. As the Duke had no heirs, only a few cousins, the nobles were fighting tooth and nail over who would inherit the title.

These news had nothing to do with Bai Yu for the time being. After collecting the useful information, he leisurely put the newspaper back.

At dusk, Imuel woke up.

He was surprised to still be alive, but the wound on his abdomen was unusually painful, as if someone had forcefully slashed him with a knife, making him wish he could just die immediately.

Imuel wanted to know what the doctor had done to him, and whether the condition of the wound on his abdomen would affect his life. But when he struggled to turn his head, his entire field of vision was blocked.

It was an ugly thing hanging around his neck.

The cardboard was a bit hard and uncomfortable, giving a strong sensation of a foreign object. Imuel gasped, thinking hatefully: "Is this a collar?"

The damn doctor actually put a dog collar on him.

He had sliced the doctor into a million pieces in his mind, but when the doctor walked toward him, Imuel still trembled as if by reflex.

He survived the last experiment, what would it be this time?

He survived last time, but what about this time?

... It hurts so much.

Bai Yu noticed the kitten had woken up.

The platinum dumpling's condition was not good. His tail was curled and pressed under his body, his fur was puffed up, and his whole body was shivering, as if he was experiencing a stress reaction to the unfamiliar environment.

The consequences of stress in cats were quite severe; it could lead to fainting, fever, or even death. Normally, in a pet hospital, there would be an owner keeping them company, so even if they were stressed, it wouldn't be too severe. But for this kitten, the clinic was a completely unfamiliar environment, and he also had a wound on his abdomen.

Such a long incision, even if sutured, must be very painful.

Bai Yu quickly went over the knowledge of feline stress in his mind, reached out, and picked up the dumpling.

The kitten trembled even more violently.

The doctor's knuckles were slender, but his body temperature was consistently low year-round. His clothes carried the smell of alcohol and disinfectant, which was not pleasant.

Imuel's pupils dilated. He looked around, trying to find an escape route. The doctor was holding him very tightly. He thought, perhaps he could try using his teeth and claws to attack the doctor, forcing him to let go...

This idea was quickly dismissed. With his size, he could hardly cause any damage to the doctor. Attacking rashly would only invite anger and more brutal treatment. Furthermore, even if the doctor let go, he had no way to leave the clinic. The collar around his neck restricted his vision, and the severe pain in his abdomen prevented him from moving. Imuel realized with near despair that, aside from relying on obedience to gain the doctor's pity, he had almost no other means.

—But would a perverted doctor in an underground clinic really have such a thing as pity?

At this time, Bai Yu had already moved the cat into the crook of his arm. He skillfully supported the kitten's bottom, allowing the cat to lie down relaxedly.

Imuel wasn't relaxed at all; he even kicked his legs uncomfortably twice, only to be easily caught by Bai Yu and placed back onto his arm.

Imuel's vertical pupils stared intently at the ground. He couldn't help but rub a little closer into Bai Yu's embrace, adopting an obedient posture, his claws resting weakly on the arm.

At this height, if Bai Yu threw him to the ground, his wound would definitely split open, and perhaps his intestines and internal organs would spill out too. That would be fatal.

Fortunately, Bai Yu had no intention of throwing him.

The doctor steadily supported the cat's bottom and went up to the second floor. He took a key from his white coat and unlocked the door.

The hinges creaked, and Imuel tensed his body again.

What was inside the door?

Was it instruments of torture, electrical equipment, chemical potions, a dissection table, or something else?

It was none of those.

Inside the door was the doctor's bedroom.

This was the place with the best view in the whole house. It had a large window where the orange sunset could be seen. In the corner by the window, two pothos plants were growing. In the center of the bedroom was a large, soft bed, covered with beige bedding. The sheets and duvet covers were clean and tidy, and the fluffy cotton carried the scent of the sun.

Imuel was placed on the bed and covered with the quilt.

Stressed cats need a quiet, warm, enclosed space to explore freely.

So Bai Yu drew the curtains, blocking out the cold air from outside. Then he locked the window, closed the door, turning the room into an enclosed space, leaving it entirely to the platinum dumpling.

He turned and left.

"..."

Imuel was left on the bed, frightened and uncertain.

What did this mean? He wasn't taken to a laboratory, but was put into a bedroom?

He tentatively moved his paws.

The bed was as soft as a cloud; every step made a small dent. His whole body sank into it, which greatly relieved the pressing pain on his abdomen. Imuel twitched his ears, still not understanding what the doctor wanted to do.

He warily observed his surroundings. The window was locked, and the door was locked. Not knowing when the doctor would return, running away rashly wasn't a good choice. If he bumped into the doctor, he would only die a more miserable death.

Imuel still remembered the doctor's warning—be good.

He needed time to recover his strength, so he gave his tail a shake and curled it up against his chest.

It was only then that Imuel realized his tail had been washed.

The fluffy tail was soft and voluminous, slightly larger than an average cat's tail, like a squirrel's tail.

When he crawled up from the riverbank, his fur had been covered with a layer of mud, but now his whole body was neat and clean. Someone must have wiped it with a wet towel.

But who wiped it? The doctor?

Imuel found it ridiculous. Would that shady doctor who performs live experiments wipe the tail of a stray cat?

The matter was full of suspicious points, but the blood loss and pain made Imuel's head groggy. He couldn't think any further. Hugging his tail, he soon fell asleep.

Downstairs, Bai Yu was just preparing to go out.

He put on the original owner's heavy over-the-knee trench coat and put on a hat. He adjusted his appearance in front of the dressing mirror, looking truly like an intellectual from Illyria.

System 55 floated behind him and asked cautiously: "What are you going to do?"

Bai Yu gathered his trench coat: "Going to get some food for the kitten."

With the platinum dumpling's physical condition, he couldn't eat normally. He needed goat's milk or soft, mashed meat.

There was a market near the original owner's residence. Now it was nearing dusk, and Bai Yu wasn't sure if the market stalls had closed or if he could still buy things.

He scrounged up two silver coins and a stack of paper bills from the original owner's drawer, got a general idea of the price information from the purchase receipts, and then stepped out the door in deerskin boots, strolling over to the market.

Bai Yu followed behind other buyers and sellers, listening to how they haggled. He then followed suit, pronouncing the words clearly and accurately. Even without the System's assistance, he seamlessly blended into Illyria, like a native local.

System 55 was dumbfounded.

Bai Yu bought two taels of fish meat and a cup of goat's milk from a peddler. As he was about to head home, a beautiful lady wearing a shawl happened to pass by. She lifted the hem of her skirt and smiled at him: "Good afternoon, Doctor."

Bai Yu remained stoic: "Hello, Madam."

The lady seemed quite familiar with the original owner. She got very close to him, her fingertips brushing across Bai Yu's shoulder as she tried to lean in and give him a cheek-kiss greeting.

Cheek kissing was commonplace in Europe, but for Bai Yu, it was too intimate.

Bai Yu forcibly suppressed the urge to retreat, only to see the lady lightly lean in, lower her voice by his ear, and whisper: "Sunday evening at seven o'clock gathering, Illyria West City Cathedral, Raven, make sure you come."

Then, she pulled away, gave Bai Yu a slight smile, turned, and left.

Bai Yu's brow twitched.

He left calmly, carrying the meat and milk back to the clinic's kitchen. He told System 55 to reorganize the known timeline. Then, he put down the cutting board, picked up a kitchen knife, and began to chop the meat.

The kitten couldn't eat large chunks of fish meat, so it needed to be finely chopped to feed him.

Bai Yu's own cooking skills were nothing to write home about, but making some pet snacks was no big deal. For a time, the sound of him chopping meat was the only thing left on the entire second floor.

Chop, chop, chop—

The sound echoed in the quiet corridor, indescribably eerie.

Imuel jolted awake abruptly, his ears twitched, and he hugged his tail even tighter.