Chapter 355. Blindness
Darkness. A perpetual darkness was all that Charles could see ahead of him. Charles had thought that he would soon adapt to losing his sight, but he realized that he still couldn't get used to it even after a significant amount of time had passed.
A soft hand gradually held the back of his head and lifted him up before the edge of a cold iron bowl was pressed against his lips.
A familiar metallic scent assaulted his nostrils.
"What is this medicine?" he asked.
"Human blood. It will expedite your healing."
"Can drinking blood achieve that?"
"It doesn't work for others, but it works for you because of your body constitution."
Hearing this, Charles parted his lips and emptied the contents within.
He wasn't sure if it was good news or bad news, but his body constitution was gradually leaning toward that of a vampire after his extensive use of the Bat Mirror.
If I completely turn into a vampire, will my vision be restored? A ridiculous thought crossed his mind.
While Charles was deep in thought, he could feel Linda's hands tending to his wounds and changing his bandages.
When she reached his reattached leg, Charles reached out a hand and harshly pinched the lower segment. The twinge of pain that coursed through him had him letting out a sigh of relief.
Linda did an impressive job. At least she saved my leg.
He then moved his hand toward the bedside table and fumbled around. His attempt was met with a woman's hand, which passed him a folded piece of paper.
Feeling the nautical chart in his hands, the corners of Charles' lips curved up into a faint smile. That was his ticket back home.
According to the information in Laesto's tablet, the Foundation had maintained communication with the surface world. Since the surface's exit was being labeled on the map, the pinpointed location would surely be accurate.
Anna would probably be overjoyed to hear this news.
"Captain, what would you like to eat? I can prepare something." Linda's voice broke Charles' train of thought.
Charles was slightly taken aback; he had never heard of such personalized services for the wounded on the Narwhale.
"There's no need for any special considerations for me. I'll have what the crew is having."
Immediately following this, he heard the shuffling of footsteps from the left side of his bed toward his right. And the next moment, a hand unexpectedly rested on his thigh.
"Captain, it's been a while since we're out at sea. Are you feeling slightly pent up? Do you need me to help relieve it?"
Despite her icy tone, the sexual implication in her words sent a shiver down Charles' spine.
"Wh-what do you mean? Are you interested in me?"
"No, I just thought that if it's too uncomfortable for you, I would like to help."
"Linda, are you... alright?" Charles asked with a hint of hesitation.
"I'm perfectly fine. Are you sure you don't need my assistance?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Why don't you go to the bridge and see who's steering now? Ask them how much longer we need to get back to Hope Island."
As the sound of Linda's footsteps gradually faded into the distance, Charles exhaled a sigh of relief.
Linda was a devout follower of the Light God and was incapable of lying. Since she claimed that she had no personal interest in him, then she was surely speaking the truth. However, Charles couldn't help but feel puzzled about her sudden behavior.
As he reflected on the events that had transpired, he suddenly noticed the traces of guilt in her voice earlier.
What is she feeling guilty about? Is she feeling guilty that she couldn't salvage my vision?
The thought about his lost vision gradually soured Charles' good mood. He lifted a hand and gently felt the bandages on his eyes. He pressed down on it slightly to feel a dent; his eye sockets were empty.
Eyes... why did it have to be my eyes? Any other parts would have been fine. Those prosthetics guys should be capable of making functional prosthetic eyes, right?
Anxiety stirred within Charles as he pondered over his next course of action.
He didn't know the actual technology those people utilized, but he knew that the eyes were extremely delicate, and it was understandable if they couldn't do it.
As he contemplated a solution, he fell into a deep sleep. His body was in earnest need of rest.
The crew seemed to understand that Charles couldn't possibly be in a great mood due to his current plight, and as such, avoided disturbing him too much.
Without his eyes, Charles continued living out his time without knowing whether it was day or night. He also had no idea how much time had passed. But he knew one thing—his other injuries were healing rapidly.
When he could finally hear the continuous whistling of steamships and the cacophony of human voices from the docks, he had recovered enough to be able to get out of bed.
An icy sensation traveled up Charles' fingertips, and he held on to Dipp's arm, which was covered in scales and alighted from the Narwhale.
The anxious mutters from his left side didn't escape his ears. They were the islanders who had gathered to welcome his safe return. All gazes were fixated on the bloodstained bandages over Charles' eyes.
Charles nodded slightly toward Dipp's direction and whispered, "I don't have time to deal with them. Take me back to the Governor's Mansion."
"Got it!" Dipp answered before pulling out his gun and firing a few shots at the ground before the approaching crowd.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Get out of the way. The Captain doesn't want to meet anyone right now!"
The chatters and voices of the crowd grew even louder, but they were also rapidly moving further away.
After taking the car back to the Governor's Mansion, Dipp diligently assisted Charles in getting out of the vehicle and also supported him back into the room. A thrill of excitement could be seen in his monstrous face; he felt needed by his captain once again.
"Enough, enough. Don't deal with these tiny matters around here. Go to the cafe on the first floor of Building 48 in the Central District. Call those prosthetic makers over. Tell them that I'm looking for them," Charles instructed.
"Alright! I'll go and get them immediately!" Excited to be ordered around by his captain again, Dipp rushed out like a gust of wind.
Feeling the cushion woven from resilient spider silk underneath him, Charles took in a deep breath and then let it out. He fished out the map in his inner coat pocket and caressed it.
Suddenly, he heard movement at the door.
"Who's there?" He turned an ear toward the direction of the sound and listened intently.
To his surprise, the intruder walked right up toward Charles and reached out to tear off the bandages over his face.
A familiar scent of intermingled alcohol, herbs and sweat reached his nostrils. A hint of a smile appeared on Charles' countenance.
"How about it? Do you have a way to treat me?"
"Weren't things fine before? How did you suddenly end up like this? How did you get injured so badly all of a sudden?" The vexation in Laesto's voice was unmistakable.
"Exploring islands is always unpredictable. To be honest, I'm lucky that I managed to come back alive. By the way, I have good news for you. Look! This is the map that marked the location of the surface's exit."
However, Laesto's voice was far from pleased as he slapped the armrest of the wheelchair with his right hand. "Argh! Just continue with your suicide attempts! One day, you'll be dying before my eyes."
Just then, another voice boomed at the doorway.
"How could you injure your eyes?!"
Charles was surprised at this individual's arrival. He clearly discerned the voice to belong to the Pope, and he could hear the extreme anxiety in the latter's tone.
"What were you doing? How could you have injured your eyes? Your eyeballs? Where are your eyeballs?" the aged voice was laced with apparent grumpiness.
"I don't know. I probably left them on the island."
The Pope's roar nearly blasted the ceiling off.
"The island! Why didn't you bring them back?! What if there's a way to restore them? Has your brain become mush?"
Charles's brows furrowed in frustration.
"I deeply appreciate your concern for me. But do you really think I wished for this to happen to me?"
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