Gun of Ashes

The dim light fell on the Plague Doctor, his body twisted into a lizard-like form under the swelling flesh and blood. As the battle dragged on, the surface of his crimson muscles gradually grew scale armor resembling fish scales, like a reappearance of the Authority of Medanzo, a trait of the Demon.

Lawrence stood in place, releasing the hand that had been covering his abdomen. In this brief moment, the terrifying wound had somewhat healed, at least temporarily not worrying about any organs spilling out.

”It’s been a long time since I took off the mask. Wearing this thing for so long feels like it’s grown into my face, can’t seem to pull it off.”

The Plague Doctor touched his face, feeling a sharp pain as if he directly touched the exposed flesh without skin protection.

”Is this what you really look like?”

Lawrence exclaimed in awe.

Neither the twisted flesh nor the proliferating scale armor caught Lawrence’s attention, but the face of the Plague Doctor truly shocked him.

Lawrence was no literary giant and found himself at a loss for words for a moment, unsure how to describe what he saw. At that moment, he even began to wonder whether he had been spending time with a human close to a demon or a demon with human memories.

He couldn’t figure it out.

”Probably... not, at least not my original form. I remember looking quite good originally, but you know, pursuing Truth always comes with a price.”

The Plague Doctor looked down at the pool of blood, a blurred reflection of his face in it.

Rather than a face, it was more like a head lost of skin, the entire face devoid of intact skin, completely covered by slowly writhing flesh, gently undulating like a swimming snake, tightly enveloping the white bone.

The gums and pupils were fully exposed, and looking at the throat, you could clearly see the black mouth split open from the airway, exhaling a foul stench.

”Only the living can witness the Truth; the dead have nothing.”

The Plague Doctor’s mouth opened and closed like a mummy, but his voice was much clearer than before, accompanied by a hoarse echo.

This is why the Plague Doctor always wore a mask, why his clothes were always stained with blood— a monster disguised as a human, walking among the crowd.

”You fused yourself with the Demon?”

Lawrence noticed the details on the Plague Doctor’s body, densely covered with stitches on the surface of the flesh, most of which had broken, some embedded in the flesh after years of friction, showing a noticeable patchwork, with much of the flesh even differing in subtle color tones, as if from different bodies.

”To be precise, ’evolution’! Just as you Demon Hunters used Secret Blood to empower yourselves. Unfortunately, I didn’t initially have your technology and could only continue my life in this clumsy manner.”

The Plague Doctor spoke as he pulled away the strips remaining on his body, revealing his chest and abdomen, where the scars were fresh, as if recently operated on, with sharp claws pointing at them.

”It started with a hole here, then a fully cut scar. Initially, it was about replacing organ by organ, attempting other major organs, then bones, and blood...”

The Plague Doctor pointed at the crimson flesh, having transformed himself into a monster in unimaginable ways through countless surgeries.

”Of course, I encountered many troubles at the start, like the erosion brought by Secret Blood... but fortunately, I made it through.”

Shrill laughter rang out, as if the Plague Doctor regarded the moment as an academic speech, telling Lawrence about his past madness.

”If Demon Hunters accepted Secret Blood, letting it transform them slowly from the inside into beings similar to Demons, then mine was a journey of countless surgeries slowly modifying my body, transforming myself to what I am now.

The paths differ, but the result is the same. Like the Purification Mechanism’s Armor of Original Sin, it’s ultimately just another way of wielding Demon power.”

The sound of glaciers cracking echoed from beneath the Plague Doctor’s body, amidst these bizarre surgeries and the support of Lawrence’s Revelation, the Plague Doctor had long transformed into a monster even he couldn’t comprehend. The cross-section of the broken tail began to grow, with new bone growing from the break, fiercely pounding the ground.

”Just like the Ship of Theseus.

In our daily lives, we are constantly in the cycle of ’life’ and ’death,’ with aging cells dying and new cells replacing them... Seeing it this way, everyone changes, becoming entirely different from the existence initially born into this world.

We are evolving bit by bit, evolving into higher beings... Sometimes I wonder, will the next stage of humanity be like the Demons?

Powerful and deadly, immortal and beautiful.”

He outstretched his lone arm, with countless fleshy nodules squirming at the grotesque wound on the other side. It seemed that in no time, the Plague Doctor would complete Self-Healing.

The Plague Doctor at this moment was both terrifying and beautiful, his ugly body condensing with intense life force and a greed for knowledge, evolving toward a higher form of existence.