Chapter 245: Diagnostic Demon

A middle-aged patient with his right arm fully wrapped in plaster was reclining in bed, peacefully absorbed in a novel. The white cast rested on a pillow, and he’d just reached what he swore was the best Chapter when—

BANG!

The door burst open. Another patient, his roommate who also had a broken arm came stumbling in, eyes wide.

"Get up! Get up, you have to get up!" He shouted breathlessly. "You won’t believe what’s happening outside!"

The man on the bed groaned, lowering his book just enough to glare over the edge.

"For heaven’s sake, I’m getting to the good part. Can’t whatever nonsense you’re panicking about wait?"

"No, it can’t!" The other insisted, grabbing his uninjured shoulder and tugging insistently. "Come on, you’ve got to see this! It’s bat-shit wild!"

"It’s...It’s a once-in-a-lifetime sight!"

He leaned in with a rabid look on his eyes.

"Honestly, I still don’t believe it myself, even after seeing it with my own eyes and I need you to verify it for me!"

The man on the bed sighed, exasperated.

"Fine, fine. What is it you’re so worked up about this time? Someone dropped their lunch tray again?"

"Just come on!"

The impatient man dragged him, cast and all toward the hallway. The first patient muttered a few curses under his breath, stumbling along, but his curiosity finally got the better of him.

And then—

The moment they stepped out into the corridor, he thought he was seeing things.

"What in the—"

He blinked hard, rubbed his eyes, and blinked again.

There, in the middle of the hospital hallway, surrounded by murmuring staff and gawking patients, was Lady Fauna herself, the Saint of Millions, the living legend of medicine.

And she...wasn’t walking.

She wasn’t even sitting properly.

She was perched comfortably—snugly—right in the lap of a young man sitting in a wheelchair, his hands casually resting on the wheels while she leaned back against his chest like she owned the world.

They rolled slowly down the hall, followed by four young doctors—Cecilia and her colleagues—trailing behind them like a parade escort.

The man’s jaw dropped.

"What the hell—what the hell am I looking at?! Am I dreaming?!"

The other patient grinned, his voice hushed with equal disbelief.

"I know, right? I know! Lady Fauna is literally sitting in the lap of some random guy! What is happening?!"

Word spread fast.

Doctors peeked out from doorways.

Nurses froze mid-step.

Patients craned their necks.

Whispered voices rippled down the corridor like wind through grass.

"Is that Lady Fauna?"

"Who’s that boy?"

"Why is she sitting on his lap like that?"

"Are they...together?"

No one dared to speak aloud. But every passing face had the same look—bewilderment and quiet scandal.

The first man with the fractured arm glanced down at his cast as they rolled by.

"Don’t tell me he’s another patient." He muttered. "Maybe he broke his leg or something, and Lady Fauna’s cheering him up..."

His friend snorted. "If that’s the case, I really regret breaking my arm instead of my leg."

"That’s so stupid." He replied even though he was already considering breaking his arm if he could get Fauna to sit on his lap.

Meanwhile, completely unfazed by the chatter around them, Mika and Fauna rolled smoothly through the whispering crowd like it was just another stroll in the park.

Mika kept his expression calm, pretending not to notice the sea of stunned faces.

Fauna, on the other hand, was humming softly, perfectly content in his lap, waving politely to every stunned staff member who bowed as she passed.

When they finally reached the general ward—a wide, bright room lined with beds and white curtains, they were met with a chorus of quiet gasps.

Patients shifted on their beds, pretending not to stare.

At the far end, Dr. Davis, the head warder, nearly dropped his clipboard when he saw the pair enter.

"L-Lady Fauna!" He stammered, rushing forward, eyes darting between her and Mika. "W-What an honor! I—uh—what brings you to this side of the hospital today?"

Fauna smiled warmly.

"Nothing serious, Davis. I just wanted to check up on some patients myself, maybe do a little diagnostic round." She gestured casually at the doctors behind her. "A small friendly competition between colleagues."

Cecilia straightened proudly.

Dr. Davis blinked, still staring in disbelief at the way she sat so comfortably in Mika’s lap before saying,

"Of course! Of course, Lady Fauna! You’re always welcome. I was actually about to do my rounds now, but..." He swallowed. "...you’re far more qualified. Please, take over."

He handed her his clipboard, bowing respectfully.

"These are the patients I was scheduled to visit. You can start here."

Cecilia stepped forward, accepting the clipboard from him with a sharp nod. "We’ll handle it from here, Doctor. Thank you."

Dr. Davis gave them a nervous smile, clearly still too flustered to process what he’d just seen, and hurried off down the hall, muttering something about needing a strong cup of tea because of the shocking sight he’d seen.

As soon as he left, Fauna clapped her hands together with a bright, cheerful smile.

"Alright then." She said, turning to Mika and Cecilia. "Shall we begin?"

Cecilia adjusted her glasses, her confidence fully restored now that she was back in her element.

"Of course, Lady Fauna." She said, then turned toward Mika with a smirk. "Prepare yourself, boy. You’re about to be crushed beneath my divine medical knowledge."

Mika only blinked at her, unimpressed.

"Divine, huh? Let’s see how that goes."

He rolled the wheelchair forward, Fauna still perched happily in his lap, until they stopped before the first patient—a middle-aged man with tired eyes and a bandaged arm.

And the moment the man noticed who had entered his room, he froze.

His eyes darted from Fauna to the four doctors flanking her, and panic instantly washed over his face.

"Oh no...oh no!" He gasped, clutching his blanket like a shield. He turned to his wife sitting beside the bed. "This is it! I’m dying, aren’t I? I knew it! I knew it! They sent Lady Fauna herself! That means it’s something the normal doctors couldn’t cure! I’m doomed!"

"Dear, please calm down." His wife hissed, but he was too far gone in his spiral. "No! It’s true! I can see it in her eyes! She’s come to deliver my death sentence!"

Before Fauna could even speak, Cecilia stepped forward briskly.

"No, no, no—it’s not like that." She said, raising both hands. "This is not your final diagnosis. Lady Fauna just wanted to do a quick inspection and routine check-up. Nothing more. Please stop panicking before you hyperventilate."

The man blinked at her, still trembling. "R-Really?"

"Yes." Cecilia assured him with an awkward smile. "You’ll live to annoy your wife for many more years."

That seemed to calm him down, though his wife, now blushing furiously, was too busy staring at Fauna in star-struck admiration to notice anything else.

Meanwhile, Cecilia grabbed the clipboard from the side table, feeling her pulse quicken with anticipation.

’Alright, Cecilia, this is your moment.’ She told herself. ’Show Lady Fauna and that arrogant boy just how good you really are. Prove your worth.’

But before she could even read the first line on the page, Mika’s voice came through out of nowhere.

"Atrial fibrillation due to hypertension. The recurring attacks confirms it...Alright, next patient."

Cecilia froze mid-page turn. "Wait—what?"

He was already rolling the wheelchair forward with Fauna still resting against him.

"Next one." He repeated.

"Hold on, hold on!" Cecilia nearly stumbled over herself chasing after them. "What did you just say?"

Mika looked up lazily. "That’s his diagnosis. Anyway, next patient?"

"Hold on!" Cecilia blurted, flipping through the pages frantically. "I didn’t even—wait, how did you—?!"

He shrugged. "Just looked at the clipboard. The answer came to mind."

Cecilia frowned, flipping the chart open.

"No way that’s right..."

But when her eyes fell on the official report, her jaw dropped. It was exactly as he said—atrial fibrillation due to hypertension, confirmed through ECG and blood-pressure history.

"So quick..." She blinked several times in disbelief.

But Mika didn’t waste any time on her and was already rolling toward the next bed and Cecilia, now flustered but refusing to back down, hurried after him.

She snatched up the next clipboard before he could speak. "Alright, this one’s mine. I’ll diagnose him before you even—"

"Type II diabetes, mild neuropathy in both feet." Mika said casually without even looking at the clipboard.

Cecilia froze mid-sentence. "You—You didn’t even look at the chart!"

"I didn’t have to. I saw the needle marks, the discoloration, the callus pattern on his feet when we entered."

She flipped open the results in disbelief—and again, it was correct. Every single detail matched perfectly.

But still she wasn’t willing to give up.

"Alright." She muttered under her breath. "That was just luck. The next one, I’ll handle."

She squared her shoulders and marched ahead to the next patient—a frail old man resting with an IV drip.

Before she could even open her mouth, Mika spoke casually, as if reading her thoughts.

"Early-stage chronic obstructive pulmonary disease." He said, glancing briefly at the man’s chest movements. "Likely caused by long-term smoking."

"There’s mild cyanosis on the lips, and the breathing pattern’s consistent with early emphysema."

Cecilia stiffened again. "You—"

"Next." Mika interrupted, already rolling forward.

She quickly flipped the clipboard open, scanning the medical notes—and once again, her eyes widened in disbelief.

He was right. Every word, every minor observation matched the report perfectly.

Her teeth clenched. "No way. There’s no way you can keep this up."

But Mika didn’t even respond. He was already in front of the next patient, his voice calm, precise, and almost bored.

"Type I diabetes, hypoglycemic tremors. Probably skipped lunch."

Next.

"Bronchitis. Third recurrence this month."

Next.

"Kidney stones, lower-left abdomen. Pain reflex matches."

Next.

Cecilia scrambled to keep up, flipping page after page, her breath coming faster as each diagnosis proved true.

The other three doctors followed behind, whispering among themselves in disbelief as they verified every detail Mika stated.

"How is he doing this?" One murmured.

"He doesn’t even look at the charts..."

"It’s like he’s reading the patients’ bodies like open books."

Cecilia’s eyes darted between Mika and the files in her hands, disbelief and irritation mixing on her face.

"You can’t possibly know all of this just by looking! Are you guessing?! You must be guessing!"

Mika chuckled softly without even glancing her way. "Guessing implies I could be wrong...But have I been wrong so far."

Her face turned red. "You—!"

But before she could finish, he was already speaking again.

"Inflammation in the gallbladder. Early-stage cholecystitis."

Next.

"Mild pneumonia, left lung, lower lobe."

Next.

"Severe anemia, iron deficiency—probably from long-term malnutrition."

He went on and on. It was like watching a machine at work, effortlessly scanning, assessing, and diagnosing with accuracy that bordered on supernatural.

Sometimes he barely looked at the clipboard at all. Sometimes, he didn’t even touch it.

He’d simply look at the patient, take one breath, and say it aloud—always right, always fast.

One by one, each diagnosis took less than a second.

Cecilia could only trail behind helplessly, her confidence slowly collapsing. Her hands were trembling from holding the clipboard so tightly, and sweat began to form on her forehead.

The other three doctors were just as stunned, silently following Mika’s lead and verifying each record he mentioned, their expressions shifting from disbelief to reluctant awe.

"This can’t be real..."

"This level of observation is impossible..."

"He’s not human..."

"He’s a diagnostic demon..."

It took less than ten minutes for Mika to sweep through the entire general ward.

Something that normally took a team of doctors hours to do.

By the end, the last patient’s diagnosis was correctly stated before Cecilia even touched the clipboard.

"Acute sinusitis." He said casually. "You can tell by the swelling and the nasal speech."

And after finishing his job, Mika finally stopped rolling forward, turning the wheelchair slightly so he could face the exhausted group behind him.

He smiled faintly, his tone light but teasing.

"So." He said, tilting his head. "Who do you think wins this one?"

Cecilia was pale, her hair slightly disheveled, her hands limp at her sides. The other three doctors looked like they had just finished running a marathon, utterly drained despite having done nothing but confirm his answers.

But Fauna, still seated on Mika’s lap, looked up at him with a radiant smile, pride gleaming in her eyes.

Cecilia could only stare at him now, at that calm, confident smile as if she were staring at something inhuman, something far beyond her comprehension.

"Mika Archiviste..." She whispered under her breath, barely able to speak. "Just what are you?"

"Just someone who read too many medical journals instead of story books as a kid."

Mika casually which actually made the all the doctors and nurses in the ward who were also listening in furious.

It made them wonder if what they accomplished so far in life was even significant, when a kid like him who still smelled of his mother’s milk was accomplishing something that they could never dream of.