novelhk Chapter 285 The Mysterious Doctor Revealed, His Wish
Chapter 285 The Mysterious Doctor Revealed, His Wish
Chapter 285 The Mysterious Doctor Revealed, His Wish
Rebecca clung tightly to Spartacus's shoulders, the wind howled and the flames burned, but she was not afraid.
She looked down.
She saw that the previously apathetic slaves in the slums were now emerging from their shacks.
They looked up at the fiery giant charging toward the castle, and at the invisible banner of rebellion.
Something is awakening in my eyes.
That is—hope.
That is courage.
An old slave shakily raised the hoe in his hand.
Then, the second one.
The third.
The tenth one.
The hundredth.
They left the slums, the mines, and the plantations.
They held simple weapons in their hands—a hoe, a shovel, a stick, or even just a stone.
But their eyes burned with fire.
The same flames as Spartacus.
"Resistance—"
Someone whispered.
Then the sound got louder and louder.
"Resist!"
"Resist!!!"
"Resist!!!!"
The roars converged into a torrent, resonating with Spartacus's roar!
The entire island has awakened!
Inside the castle, Grand Duke Saturn watched in horror as the fiery giant drew ever closer outside the window.
"Stop him! Stop him! All guards! All soldiers! Fire! Fire arrows! Kill him!!!"
But it was too late.
Spartacus has arrived below the castle.
He looked up at the white fortress that symbolized oppression.
grin.
Then raise your fist.
boom!!!!!!!
One punch.
Just one punch.
The castle walls are crumbling.
The second punch.
The city wall collapsed.
The third punch.
The main castle began to tilt.
Fourth punch—
The entire castle was reduced to ashes.
It's not a metaphor.
It truly turned to dust, burned in the flames, and collapsed in the face of its will to resist.
When the smoke cleared, only ruins remained.
And in the center of the ruins, there stands the fiery giant.
Spartacus slowly withdrew his fist, and the flames on his body gradually subsided.
He put Rebecca down, knelt on one knee, and his huge body began to shrink back to its original height of three meters.
But those eyes still burned.
He looked around.
The slaves poured in from all directions, looking at the ruins and the kneeling giant.
silence.
Then, a deafening cheer erupted!
"free!!!"
"We are free!!!"
"Spartacus! Spartacus! Spartacus!"
People called out that name, tears streaming down their faces.
Rebecca stood beside Spartacus, watching this scene, her vision blurred with tears.
She got it.
This is what Spartacus wanted her to see.
The light that rekindles in the eyes of humanity when oppression is broken.
Its radiance was more dazzling than any gemstone.
Spartacus slowly stood up and looked around.
"The oppressors have fallen." His voice was still thunderous, but tinged with weariness. "But freedom must be protected by ourselves."
"You need organization, you need leaders, you need order."
"Tomorrow, someone will come to help you; they are a group of people who are truly fighting for freedom."
Until then, protect yourselves and protect each other.
He looked at Rebecca.
"Contractor, it's time for us to go."
Rebecca nodded, took one last look at the cheering crowd, and turned to follow Spartacus.
She suddenly noticed as they were leaving.
At the edge of the crowd, a figure was quietly watching them.
The man, wearing a spotted hat and carrying a long knife, stood out from the surrounding slaves.
He noticed Rebecca's gaze, nodded slightly, and gave her a gentle smile.
Then, he turned around and blended into the crowd, disappearing from sight.
The sunset on Saturn Island was stained with the colors of blood and fire.
The ruins of the castle are still burning, with thick black smoke billowing up like accusing fingers reaching towards the sky.
But around these ruins, an unprecedented vitality is spreading.
The slaves—no, they should now be called people—were rummaging through the ruins.
They weren't there to plunder, but to find objects that symbolized oppression.
Noble badges, slave contracts, instruments of torture—then pile them together and ignite a new flame.
That was a ceremony to say goodbye to the past.
Rebecca stood on a small hill a little further away, watching all of this.
Her gaze swept over the faces that gleamed in the firelight.
It was no longer numbness, no longer fear, but a mixture of confusion, excitement, uncertainty, but most importantly, hope.
"I can't believe it—" she murmured to herself, "just a few hours ago—"
"Once the spark of resistance is ignited, its spread will be unstoppable." Spartacus's voice rang out beside him.
He has returned to normal, but his aura is deeper than before, as if the grand performance has made his essence more solid.
He crouched down and scooped up a handful of soil with his huge hands.
The soil was mixed with ashes and unburnt scraps of paper—remnants of slave contracts.
"The oppression on this island has lasted for three generations," Spartacus said in a deep voice.
"Grandfather oppresses father, father oppresses son, master oppresses slave—hatred and suffering have accumulated layer by layer, and have long since reached a critical point."
"What I did was merely toppled the first domino."
He loosened his grip, letting the soil drift away in the wind.
"The real challenge is yet to come. The old order has been destroyed, and a new order has not yet been established."
"This period is the most vulnerable time. External enemies may invade, internal divisions may occur, and former oppressors may launch a counterattack."
Rebecca turned to look at him: "So you're telling them to wait for the Revolutionary Army?"
Spartacus nodded: "The Revolutionary Army is experienced, has ideals, and is well-organized."
"They will help the people here establish a genuine self-governing government, not just another regime in a different guise."
He paused and looked at Rebecca.
"But before that, there are some things to do."
For the next few hours, Spartacus and Rebecca did not leave.
They began to survey the island.
The first task was to eliminate the remaining guard forces.
Most of the guards either died or fled when the castle collapsed, but small groups of troops remained scattered throughout the island, trying to maintain order or prepare for a counterattack.
Spartacus did not kill them.
He used the most direct method, overwhelming force to crush their will to resist, and then let the liberated people gather them into prison.
“Hate breeds new hatred,” he explained to Rebecca. “Trials should be conducted by the future self-governing government, not lynching.”
Rebecca silently made a note of it.
Then came the distribution of supplies.
The castle's warehouses contained large quantities of food, medicine, and weapons, which were originally intended for use only by nobles and guards.
Spartacus commanded the people to open the warehouses and distribute supplies as needed, prioritizing the elderly, children, and the wounded.
"Fairness is not the same as equality," he said. "It's about distribution according to need. The strong can endure for a while, but the weak must be taken care of first."
"This is a fundamental principle for the survival of the community."
When Rebecca was helping to distribute the medicine, she noticed a detail.
Some of those medications were clearly added recently.
The packaging was simple but clean, and the herbs were handled professionally, a stark contrast to the expensive but mostly expired medicines in the castle.
"This is—" She picked up a packet of herbs, smelled it, "It's very fresh, it must have been picked within the last few days."
The old woman beside her said in a trembling voice, "It was given by the doctor—he often secretly sent the medicine to the storeroom to replace the useless stuff—"
Doctors.
It's that mysterious doctor again.
Rebecca remembered what the man in the slums had said, and the figure she had seen in the crowd when she left.
"Do you know where that doctor is?" she asked.
The old woman shook her head: "The doctor's whereabouts are unpredictable—sometimes in the slums, sometimes in the mines, sometimes in the plantations—wherever someone needs treatment, he will be there."
"But he never left his name or accepted any payment."
Rebecca seemed thoughtful.
A person with superb medical skills, a compassionate heart, and who persisted in saving lives in such a hellish place —
Such a person has qualified for the Holy Grail War.
She suddenly became curious: if he were to summon a Heroic Spirit, what kind of being would he summon?
A secluded cave on the northeast coast of Saturn Island.
The interior of the cave has been converted into a makeshift medical station.
A few simple beds, some basic medical equipment, dried herbs hanging on the wall, and the air filled with the mixed smell of disinfectant and herbs.
Trafalgar Law leaned against the rock wall, fiddling with a small instrument in his hand.
That was his Spirit Origin Detector. Unlike the version made by Caesar, this one was made by himself and appeared somewhat crude.
On the instrument screen, several dots of light are flashing.
The brightest one was Spartacus; the berserker's spirit origin reaction was so strong that it could be clearly detected even at such a distance.
Next is Rebecca; the Master's reaction was weaker, but it definitely exists.
Then there were faint, scattered reactions throughout the island —
Those must be people who have just awakened to the consciousness of resistance.
Their souls are undergoing some kind of change, producing a kind of magical fluctuation.
But Luo's gaze remained fixed on an almost invisible point of light at the edge of the screen.
The light was extremely faint, appearing and disappearing intermittently, as if it might vanish at any moment.
But it does exist.
And—it's moving.
"Captain." Bepo's voice came from the cave entrance, interrupting Law's thoughts.
Luo raised his head.
His crew members, Bepo, Shaki, and Pekin, gathered at the cave entrance, their faces filled with worry.
"Outside—things have really changed," Shaki said. "The castle is gone, the slaves have been freed, and now the whole island is celebrating."
Pekin added, "And that Heroic Spirit named Spartacus—he's ridiculously strong. We saw him demolish a castle with his bare hands; that's something no human could do."
Luo nodded calmly: "I saw it."
In fact, he saw it more clearly.
He witnessed the entire process of Spartacus unleashing his Noble Phantasm; it wasn't simply destructive energy, but rather the manifestation of a concept.
The abstract concept of resistance transformed into a tangible flame at that moment, burning away all symbols of oppression.
That power —
"Captain," Bepo said hesitantly.
"Shouldn't we summon Heroic Spirits too?"
Silence fell over the cave.
Luo looked down at his left hand.
Three bright red Command Seals silently appeared on his wrist.
It appeared three days ago.
He was performing emergency surgery on a child in a slum at the time.
The child had pneumonia, a severe lung infection, and the conditions in the slum were so poor that conventional treatment wouldn't have been able to save him.
So Law used his ability.
"ROOM Scan".
He opened up the surgical space, precisely removed the infected part, and used his abilities to promote the regeneration of healthy tissue.
The whole process lasted three hours, and by the end he was covered in sweat and his magic was almost completely depleted.
The child opened his eyes and gave him a weak smile.
"Thank you—Doctor—"
At that moment, Luo's wrist suddenly felt burning hot.
Three command spells appeared out of thin air.
He immediately understood what had happened: he had been chosen for the Holy Grail War.
It's not because he's so strong, nor because he has any ambition.
Rather, it was because, at that moment, the child's father...
His desire to gain the power to save more people resonated with a deep-seated obsession within Luo, triggering a transfer of power.
"I should have summoned him when that man willingly gave me the qualification," Luo said softly. "But I—couldn't."
"Why?" Pekin asked, puzzled. "Captain, this is the Holy Grail War! The entire sea is fighting for the power of Heroic Spirits!"
"That bastard Doflamingo also has Heroic Spirits. If we don't hurry—"
'
"I know," Luo interrupted him.
Of course he knew.
Doflamingo has Shakespeare.
Kaido has Cú Chulainn.
Roger is in The Straw Hat Boys.
The black-bearded man is an earl.
Every powerful force now possesses a heroic spirit, elevating the scale of this war to an unprecedented level.
Without Heroic Spirits, it means falling behind and being eliminated.
Moreover—the Holy Grail.
That wish-granting machine that supposedly grants any wish.
Luo closed his eyes.
A scene came to mind.
snow.
Endless snow.
On the white snow, bright red blood bloomed like flowers.
And that person—the man who always smiled foolishly, yet ultimately protected him with his life.
Don Quixote Rosinante.
Mr. Krasson.
"If the Holy Grail can really grant any wish—" Luo murmured to himself.
"Then—can it resurrect the dead?"
Inside the cave, everyone was stunned.
Bepo's tears welled up instantly: "Captain—you mean—"
"I want to give it a try." Luo opened his eyes, his gaze filled with an unprecedented determination.
"I don't seek victory in the Holy Grail War, I don't want to be the final winner, I just want an opportunity, a possibility."
He stood up.
"Therefore, I cannot summon here."
"Why?" Xia Qi asked.
"Because if the heroic spirit I'm summoning—if there really is a heroic spirit that can grant my wish—then the location of the summoning must be meaningful."
Luo looked out at the sea outside the cave entrance.
"I want to go back there."
"Back to Minnion Island."
"On the snow where Mr. Classon died, on the land soaked with the blood he shed for me—a call."
"If I can't summon him even this way—then at least I'll summon someone who can give me the answer."
"Someone who can tell me—whether the dead can return."
The crew members looked at each other in bewilderment.
After a long silence, Bepo wiped away his tears and nodded vigorously: "We understand, Captain. We're going to Minion Island."
"But outside now—" Pekin hesitated.
How do we leave?
Luo looked at the detector.
On the screen, Spartacus's dot of light remained in the center of the island.
"Let's leave now. I was just planning to rest somewhere close to Lissa." Luo squinted.
He put away the detector and slung his backpack over his shoulder—which contained basic medical equipment and some necessities.
"Prepare the submarine. We'll set off tonight."
"The patients on the island—" Bepo asked.
"I've done everything I could," Luo said calmly.
"The drug reserves are sufficient, and I've taught basic treatment methods to a few of the brighter ones. Now—they'll have to rely on themselves."
He took one last look at the cave.
This is the place where he stayed for a month.
In one month, he treated hundreds of people, saved dozens of lives, and watched many more die because of limited resources.
He did his best.
However, doctors' best efforts are ultimately limited in the face of absolute resource scarcity and institutional oppression.
Therefore—he needs more power.
We need the power to change the world.
"Let's go."
Luo put on a spotted hat, pulled the brim down, and covered his eyes.
My identity as a doctor ends here.
From this moment forward, he is Trafalgar Law.
He is the captain of the Heart Pirates.
Yes—a participant in the Holy Grail War.