Bitten by a dragon?
Looking at the gruesome wound on the muggle soldier, Hoffa was shocked and immediately ordered, "You, hurry up, go register him, you carry him in, I'll contact the healer."
Seeing that the young man was quite calm, the employees of the Ministry of Magic seemed to have found their backbone. They busied themselves according to his orders.
Hoffa passed through the glass wall and rushed back to the lobby of Saint-Mango Hospital. He pulled out a stack of papers from under the table and hurriedly began to fill in the information, preparing to arrange surgery for the wounded soldier.
The employees of the Ministry of Magic also carried the stretcher in from outside. The nurses around them all gasped and surrounded them.
After Hoffa filled in the information, he quickly separated from the nurses and walked to the employees of the Ministry of Magic. "You guys, go to the Biological Injury Department on the second floor and find Healer Smesik, hurry up!"
But at this moment, a cold snort came from outside the crowd.
"Wait a minute."
Hoffa turned his head and saw a short and fat man parting the crowd and slowly walking over. It was his boss, Kerrigan Burton, the short and fat penguin man who talked to him in the morning.
"Wait a minute."
Hoffa turned his head. It was a matter of life and death, he didn't want to argue with the other party.
But his attitude undoubtedly poked at Kerrigan Burton's nerve. He narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about, who allowed you to randomly approve hospitalization forms?"
Hoffa ignored him. He was going to resign tonight, he didn't want to make it too embarrassing.
Seeing that the muggle soldier's breathing was getting weaker and weaker, he pushed the employees of the Ministry of Magic and said, "Hurry up, hurry up to the second floor, don't worry about anything …"
The employees of the Ministry of Magic had just started to walk.
"Who dares to move!!"
The penguin man yelled like a cat whose tail was stepped on. He flew into a rage and snatched the registration form from Hoffa's hand. The employees of the Ministry of Magic who were carrying the stretcher were startled.
The list was snatched away by the stubby fingers.
"I don't care what kind of injury he has. Did you follow the rules?" Cregan Bolton took a step forward and repeated, "Did. You. Follow. The. Rules?"
His saliva almost sprayed onto Hoffa's chin.
Hoffa was furious. "He's going to die! Can't you see the wound? "
With a gloomy face, Kerrigan Burton leaned close to Hoffa and whispered, "Boy, I don't care who introduced you, but you have to follow the rules in Saint-Mango! Learn from him! "
With that, he pushed Hoffa away and put his hands on his hips. He looked at the employees of the Ministry of Magic and said in an old-fashioned manner, "What is your relationship with the patient?"
Several Ministry of Magic employees were stunned. "We're just following orders."
"Where are the family members of the injured? Why aren't they here?" He asked sternly, "This operation is not child's play. We have to sign a liability agreement before we can proceed with the follow-up work."
Family members …?
Several Ministry of Magic employees looked at each other and didn't know what to say for a moment.
Hoffa couldn't take it anymore. This old thing's dilly-dallying attitude was as if he had no regard for human life. He grabbed the pharmacist Bolton's collar. "This is a Muggle, a Muggle soldier! Do you want a sober Muggle to come to Saint-Mango to sign? "
"What's with your attitude?"
Fatso glared at him, his nose hair trembling in anger.
Hoffa's arm exerted force. Under the surprised gaze of Penguin Man, he was lifted up bit by bit.
"What are you doing?" he rebuked.
Hoffa: "Arrange for the operation, immediately!"
"What's with your attitude? Do you want to be fired?"
"So be it …"
However, the two were at daggers drawn and the hostility was interrupted by an employee of the Ministry of Magic. He suddenly said, "No need."
Hoffa was stunned and looked at the employee.
The employee of the Ministry of Magic said, "He's dead."
Hoffa let go of his hand and squatted down to press down on the soldier's neck. The soldier who was bitten in half by the dragon exhaled his last breath. His eyes were wide open as he stared blankly at the ceiling. His chest was no longer moving up and down. He couldn't be more dead.
The nurses around shook their heads, sighed slightly, and dispersed. During the war, this kind of thing was too common.
Hoffa stood up, lowered his head, and didn't say a word.
Kerrigan Burton frowned and said, "Take him down and let the logistics department deal with him. Don't let him affect your normal work here. Also, we won't be accepting Muggles during this period of time. Don't just bring anyone over. "
Several Ministry of Magic employees responded with an "oh" and appeared to be in low spirits.
Bolton adjusted his tie and snorted coldly at Hoffa. He said in a low voice, "Learn a little, understand!?"
This sentence was like a spark that ignited a powder keg. Blood rushed straight to the head and adrenaline began to rise. Hoffa tilted his head. "He might not have died originally."
"Not dead? Who doesn't die? "
The man sneered. "Do you know France? Do you know Belgium? Do you know Poland? People are dying in the world every day. Thousands of people die every day. If you go and save them, can you save them all? "
"You have to be responsible for this." Hoffa squeezed out a few words from between his teeth.
"Funny, me? Responsible? What responsibility? Who's going to be responsible for Mr. Bohan? Who's going to be responsible for the shareholders? Who's going to be responsible for their medical expenses? I'm warning you, ever since you came over, the hospital has already lost at least eight hundred plus … "
Pa!!
His neck was gripped.
Then, Bolton saw a pair of frightening golden eyes. The young man standing in front of him suddenly grew taller.
Without waiting for him to think carefully about the reason.
The next second.
Boom!!
A heavy punch landed on his face, smashing the bridge of his nose crooked.
He didn't even have time to react before he was punched to the ground.
Bang bang bang bang!!!
Immediately, Huo Yao grabbed the leader's thigh and smashed him left and right as if he was waving a big stick. Gravel flew everywhere. He only had time to let out an ear-piercing scream before he collapsed like a deflated balloon.
Under everyone's horrified gaze. The pharmacist of Saint-Mango Hospital, the man named Cregan, was smashed into the floor tiles by his intern. His front teeth fell to the ground and his limbs were twisted into an unimaginable arc.
Hoffa was panting furiously. He stood in place and looked at the two pits on his left and right. His face was ashen as he threw away the remaining broken shoe in his hand and spat on the penguin man. "You really think I'm here to serve you? Go eat shit! "
.....
.....
Three hours later.
On the fifth floor of the hospital.
The female head nurse looked at Hoffa and pushed him to the door of the director's office.
"Director Bohan specifically asked to see you, go in."
With that, she handed a few pieces of black and white paper to Hoffa and turned to leave.
Hoffa looked at the few pieces of paper. In the picture, Cregan Bolton's entire body was wrapped in bandages like a mummy. His condition was too horrible to look at.
There were also rows and rows of inspection reports that were two pages long. Hoffa rubbed his forehead and sighed to himself.
What was meant to come would come.
He regretted, but not because he beat up Cregan Bolton. He regretted agreeing to Aglaia too hastily. He wasn't suited to work in the unit at all.
God knows what was waiting for him.
He held the door handle of the director's office and pushed the door open.
However, the scene behind the door made him temporarily forget about what had happened to him.
It was a very strange room. The light in the room was dim and soft. There were many plant tentacles wriggling slowly. They intertwined with each other and clung to the desk, sofa, chair, and even the teapot. It made the whole room look like the green stomach of some creature.
He had spent two years in the magic school, so he naturally recognized this plant. This was the Devil's Web, a vine plant that was afraid of light and fire. But at the same time, in certain environments, it would be abnormally active and changeable.
But the Devil's Web wasn't the most eye-catching thing in the room. The most eye-catching thing was the operating table at the side of the room.
On the operating table, there was a Golden Retriever Hound wrapped in bandages. The hound's body seemed to have been seriously injured. Both of its hind legs were broken by bullets.
A man wearing glasses and a white coat stood in front of the operating table. He was quietly operating on the Golden Retriever Hound.
The intertwining vines in the room were like nimble fingers, passing various knives to the man.
This scene left Huo Fa dumbfounded.
Could it be that the director of Saint-Mango … was a veterinarian?
The man noticed the movement at the door and turned his head. It was a middle-aged man with an elegant appearance, deep wrinkles, and an outstanding temperament. He raised his head, glanced at Hoffa, and waved at him.
Stepping over two thick vines on the ground, Hoffa slowly walked to the man's side.
When he walked to the man's side, he noticed that there were many eyes around observing him.
Hoffa looked around. It turned out that there was not only the Devil's Web in the room, but also many cats and dogs.
Some of the more timid cats and dogs looked at him warily in the corner, while some of the more courageous ones came to Huo Fa's side. Two Labradors sniffed him, a bulldog looked up at him with its mouth drooping, and two black cats circled around his legs silently.
Hoffa withdrew his attention from these animals and looked at the man in front of him who was performing the operation.
He had been working here for more than a month and naturally knew the current director of Saint-Mango.
Jacob Bohan.
A man who had been in the position of director for nearly ten years.
The man said without raising his head, "Pass me the caliper."
Hoffa heard this, looked at the operating tray, took out a small tweezer from the tray, and handed it over.
He took the tweezer, slowly inserted the tool into the leg of the Golden Retriever in front of him, and then slowly pulled it out. The end of the tweezer accurately caught a bloody shrapnel.
The Golden Retriever howled in pain.
The man immediately pressed his broad palm on the Golden Retriever's neck.
"Shh."
The Golden Retriever calmed down.
Then, Jacob Bohan quickly removed several shrapnel from its hind leg with his right hand.
"Alcohol."
Hoffa handed over the alcohol.
"Cotton swab."
Hoffa handed over the cotton swab.
"Gauze."
Hoffa handed over the gauze. For a moment, he seemed to have become a devil's web tentacle …
Ten minutes later, the operation was over. The Golden Retriever lay on the bed, licking the man's finger. The elegant director explained as he bandaged the wound.
"It was injured in the war, but animals are very tenacious. As long as you give them a chance and a little respect, they will survive and repay you a hundred times over."
Hoffa didn't know how to answer. This was the first time he was face to face with the director of Saint-Mango.
The man carried the bandaged Golden Retriever into the cage, took off his bloody white coat, and revealed a very ordinary black casual outfit underneath. He walked behind the table and leaned against the chair. He stretched out his hand and said in a relaxed manner, "Let me see the list."
Hoffa handed over Bolton's medical report. A few vines quietly wriggled on the table like snakes, rolling up the pictures and showing them to the man one by one.
In the meantime.
Hoffa put his hands behind his back and didn't say a word. He was a little concerned about whether beating up Bolton would bring about any unpredictable bad effects.
At this time, one of the tentacles on the wriggling devil's web stretched out and quietly pushed a chair over and placed it under Hoffa's butt.
It even nodded Hoffa's shoulder and motioned him to sit down.
Hoffa glanced at Jacob Bohan, slightly stunned. The man looked at the picture and said casually, "Sit, this isn't Azkaban."
Hearing the other party's words, Hoffa was slightly surprised. He realized that the other party's mental force field was so soft that it was almost imperceptible. However, that level of control was the highest among all the Adepts he had ever seen.
He sat down. As soon as he sat down, two black cats jumped onto his lap, purred, and rubbed their heads on the back of Hoffa's hand.
Even in such an environment, Hoffa couldn't help but rub the cat's neck.
At this time, another devil's web tentacle carried a cup of ceramic coffee and slowly came in front of Hoffa.
The tentacle was forked, and it was wrapped around a small spoon, stirring the coffee with a tinkling sound.
Another vine tentacle tapped Hoffa's shoulder as if it was motioning him to drink the coffee.
Hoffa's hands were on the cat, so he pulled back his shoulders and let go of the devil's web tentacle.
The tentacle actually curled up another sugar cube and dropped it into the coffee cup. After adding the sugar, it even brought the coffee cup to Hoffa's mouth. It was relentless.
Hoffa could only quietly move a little to the left and let go of the cup.
"What, you don't like coffee?"
The man in front of him looked at the picture and asked gently.
"Not really."
Hoffa replied.
The devil's web vine put the coffee cup back to its original place.
"Tea? Pure water? Milk? "
"Uh … No, thank you."
Hoffa instinctively refused.
"Are you nervous? This isn't like you. "
He laughed, "I've heard about you, Hoffa Bach, and the things you've done. To be honest, it's a waste of talent to let you stay in this position."
Hoffa frowned, "Mr. Bohan, if you have something to say, can you just say it?"
"Uh-huh." The man smiled, then raised his head and looked straight into Huo Fa's pale golden eyes. He crossed his fingers and said calmly,
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