The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Without looking, Soshyang knew the source of the mechanical sound very well. It was undoubtedly the pharmacist's surgical aids-equipped with laser blades, electric saws, scissors, syringes, and drill bits.

"Observe the damage to the subcutaneous tissue from the first incision..."

When he stepped into the door, the broad voice of the pharmacist came again.

"Mark, c22, a large number of infections were found in the left lower rib, the second heart tissue growth rate index is too high, and the bones are deformed."

The stale smell drifted into Soshyang's nose. The stench was the smell of burnt bones and flesh.

He glanced at it and found a boy lying in the center of the operating platform, on which was a tangled net, with lumens and recording equipment from all angles.

The skin on the front of the boy's chest was uncovered, revealing the internal organs covered by a large number of fibers under the epidermis and dermis.

Different types of blood transfusion units and nerve sensors were exposed to the air, and part of the boy’s ribs had been removed and placed on a tray held by the servant.

Cold surgical appendages stretched over the boy's thin body, pinning the open wound.

The image of the pharmacist does not look much different from the past. Of course, due to long hours of work and anxiety, his pale cheeks and disheveled face are no longer as green as before, and he has a pair of cold eyes.

At this moment, he exudes a mixture of several scents—liquid preservatives, sour blood, and the chemical smell of antiseptic ointment applied.

This stench is a physical blow to the super senses of the interstellar warrior.

Soshyang closed his eyes and slowly inhaled the stench, trying to resolve the corrupt scent.

Then, his eyes opened suddenly.

"His taste..."

"He is dying."

The pharmacist pointed at the boy.

"You can smell it, can't you, he exudes the breath of death, like only the walking dead."

"Is he out of help."

"That's not good, please pass me these medical tweezers, Commander."

Nashin Balitaem stretched out his hand, Soshyan picked up the tool from the side and handed it over.

The pharmacist took the tweezers and rummaged in the abdominal cavity.

"It looks like it's not working... It's no help. The rejection reaction is too strong. He is slowly dying."

There is no doubt that this is an obvious truth.

"Organ shrinkage may be slower, but it is inevitable that he will not even live to adulthood. This body cannot contain genetic seeds... He is not the first and will not be the last."

Soshyan's eyes moved involuntarily to the wound in the boy's abdominal cavity, where the things that should have been there have now been changed-the beating blood mass should not appear on a healthy person.

The distorted tissue network appeared under the light, and the pharmacist cut it with dexterity and precision, then removed the tumor mass, and gently placed it on the tray to prepare for the next test.

"Even the potential to transform into a machine servant is gone."

Subsequently, the pharmacist injected the deadly medicine into the boy's body.

"Take him and burn him."

"Yes."

After a while, the servant on the side immediately removed the boy's stiff body from the table.

"Team commander, sometimes I really feel like a bastard."

Nassin Balitaem walked to the side of the pool and dipped the blood-filled water into the pool, watching the blood stain slowly disperse.

"One, two, ten, twenty... Commander of the battle group, I feel that I am murdering those children every day. I already regret choosing the post of pharmacist."

After a moment of silence, Soshyang walked to the pharmacist and put his hand on his shoulder armor.

"Brother, it's been hard work... I know it's difficult. You can make any request, as long as it makes you feel better."

"Oh, what more can I ask for."

Soshyang suddenly remembered that he did not see the two new pharmacists.

When he lifted it, Nassin pointed his finger at the corridor.

"They are doing other checks."

Soshyan looked at the robotic arm of the surgical machine, imagining it moving, for some sacred purpose.

"Show me the success now."

Afterwards, Nassin led Soshyang to the storage room at the rear.

Both pharmacists were here, and when Soshyan appeared, they both showed proper surprise.

"At present, all the reformers are placed in the sterile cabin. This is the most successful one so far. He has almost adapted to all the reforms at this stage without any rejection reaction."

Nassin pointed to the first child, who had jagged pink scars on his chest, back and throat from recent invasive surgery.

The boy's face seemed a bit familiar, Soshyan blinked, remembering for a while.

Finally, he remembered the dirty boy on the last day of the primary election.

He seems to be called Bahram.

"No accident, he can receive gray pulp implantation in the next stage."

"How many are similar?"

Faced with Soshyan’s question, Nassin didn’t even need to know the exact number on his medical equipment.

"Twenty-six, aged between 14 and 16, have basically adapted to the different stages of organ transplantation. The occasional rejection reaction is not strong, but they are not mature enough to be implanted. So far, 29 people have died. , And 6 others are in an unstable state, and the situation is not good."

Although it sounds cold-blooded, Soshyan is quite satisfied with these numbers.

"Well done, this is a very good survival rate."

"I know--"

Nassin almost sounded angry.

"But when it is far from the end, the failure rate in the subsequent transformation phase will not be better, and we all have to be psychologically prepared."

"That's why I need you to keep doing it."

Soshyan approached one of the sterile chambers, and Philip, the pharmacist of the Soul Drinker, was examining the child inside.

He lay there motionless, as if he was asleep.

Suddenly, just as Soshyang looked closer at his face, the boy's limbs began to cramp violently, and his eyelids kept turning up, as if he had been shocked by an electric shock.

The alarm went off immediately.

"Recipient No. 17 is in emergency! Give oxygen first!"

The three pharmacists immediately got busy, UU reading www.uukahnshu.com Soshyang could only step aside.

They opened the sterile chamber, fixed the boy's spasm limbs and neck with a mechanical arm, opened his mouth and inserted a breathing tube, and then lifted him to the emergency operating table.

As soon as he lay down, seven or eight needles plunged into the boy's skin at the same time.

"Heart rate is too fast! Pupils shrink!"

"The increase in intracranial pressure is too fast!"

"Enter the tranquilizer first! Standard 2 doses!"

In order not to get in the way, Soshyang could only leave quietly and pray for the boy in his heart-if he remembers correctly, the boy was chosen by him the last day, and his name was Haomo.

He didn't like this cold-blooded choice, but the reality was so cruel. The empire was built on cold sacrifice and blood.

When Soshyang left the medical area and just returned to his private room, he suddenly received an emergency communication.

The Imperial Patrol Fleet has detected that there seems to be an Spirit Fleet in action near the Nathan Galaxy!