Shadows of London: 3-15 Battle for Survival

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Cramped quarters, shortage of medicine, and death. The workhouse's condition is worse than Caroline expected.

Info

Style: Event Logs: Opisthotonus, Tetanus, Chloroform, Hippocratic Oath (conditional) Required: Priscilla Goodwill Lv. 6 Recommended: Gulliver's Travels, Carmilla, Down by the Salley Gardens, Dracula, Waiting for Godot, Belinda, The Picture of Dorian Gray Rewards: 3,000 , 600 , 3 , 1 , 1 , Blueprint: Mist-Shrouded Visitor

Mist-Shrouded Visitor

Dialogue Choices

To unlock this stage:

• Choose I understand in Shadows of London: 3-4 The Optimal Solution

(What...what should I do?)

• Persuade Niamh's mother
  • Edward goodwill up
  • Stage event 1/2
• Plead with Doctor Grey
  • Story continues
  • Event log: Hippocratic Oath
  • Stage event 2/2

Transcript

Expand for script.

• Nurse A: Doctor Grey! You're back!

• Nurse A: The patient's condition worsened at three o'clock in the afternoon. They're experiencing shortness of breath and the ulcers on their skin are getting worse...

• Doctor Grey takes off his coat, quickly washes his hands, and disinfects them while a nurse hands him a bottle of pungent medicine.
• Edward Grey: Is there a fever?

• Nurse A: Yes. It started off mild in the morning but got worse in the afternoon and still persists...

• They communicate rapidly as they hasten their pace towards the treatment room. It seems like I've been completely forgotten amidst this emergency.
• You: (Uh... How am I going to find a place to stay all on my own...)

• Just as I'm hesitating, Doctor Grey, who is almost at the door of the treatment room, suddenly stops and turns to look at me.
• He gives me an apologetic look, and scans the surroundings with his eyes, then hastily instructs a young boy who appears to be a servant.
• Edward Grey: You. Yes, you. Take that young lady to the lodging house, and put her in the room next to mine.

• He turns back to me and mouths the words "I'm sorry" before disappearing into the treatment room.
• The young servant boy freezes, then reluctantly drops the broom in his hands, and rushes over to grab my luggage.
• Rhys: Follow me... Huh? It's you?

• You: Wait... Rhys?

• We look at each other. Rhys seems frustrated.
• Rhys: Why can't you just stay in the Western District? Why are you here again? How did you get in here?

• You: Doctor Grey brought me in, of course.

• Rhys: The doctor? Why would he bring you here?

• You: He... he needs me to help him research medicine for this strange sickness!

• Rhys: ...

• Rhys scrutinizes me suspiciously, then snorts, clearly doubting what I said, but still defers to Doctor Grey's orders.
• Rhys: Follow me. I'll take you to the lodging house.

• The lodging house is cramped, narrow, and very rudimentary. Thin quilts are piled on creaking beds, and the wooden tables and chairs look like they could collapse at any moment.
• Rhys: Stop gawking at the doctor's bed. Your room's over here.

• Rhys lifts a curtain, revealing a small room behind it. Apart from being slightly tidier, the two rooms are almost identical.
• You: So close?!

• You: (I thought there would be at least a wall between the rooms!)

• Rhys lowers his hand and gives me a disdainful and mocking sideways glance.
• Rhys: Don't overthink it. The doctor doesn't usually sleep here.

• Rhys: He often spends the night in the treatment room so he can handle emergencies at any time.

• Even though he's just a young boy, the implication in his words embarrasses me. Thankfully, the second half of his sentence quickly captures my attention.
• You: Does Doctor Grey spend the night in the treatment room that frequently? Doesn't he have a set time to rest every day?

• Rhys: What, do you expect people to get sick on a schedule?

• He walks up to the table, peers into a plate, and lets out a sigh.
• Rhys: He didn't even finish his lunch... If this continues, he's going to collapse.

• There is something cold and murky-looking in the plate, with oddly colored pieces floating in it. There are also some broken bits of bread.
• I stir it with a spoon but fail to find anything resembling food.
• You: What is this?

• Rhys: Potatoes. With salt and carrots.

• You: Is that all he gets to eat? Just potatoes and bread?

• Rhys furrows his brow, snatches the spoon from my hand, and glares at me with disgust.
• Rhys: We've already given the doctor the best food we have. He told us to give the bacon and milk to the patients!

• Rhys: Don't expect too much. If it weren't for the recent food delivery, we wouldn't even have enough to eat!

• He angrily flings the spoon back onto the plate and walks away with it.
• I sit down on a wooden chair, bewildered, and take in the incredibly crude living conditions. It's only now that I truly grasp the challenges Doctor Grey faces when practicing medicine here.
• You: (Indeed, the food purchased with charitable donations is far from sufficient.)

• You: (Fresh food, daily necessities, medicine... We need to establish a comprehensive process and system to ensure a steady supply of these resources.)

• You: (Charitable work can't be done well with just sporadic donations.)

• I let out a soft sigh and bend down to open my luggage, selecting the simplest set of clothes.
• In a place like this lodging house, wearing extravagant clothing would only make others feel worse.

• The sudden turn of events caught me off guard, and I thought the everyday items I carried with me were already quite simple.
• But as I take out the hand mirror, hair comb, and soap from my luggage, they seem out of place in this dwelling, and I can't help but feel a tinge of embarrassment.
• A sudden crash reaches my ears, originating not far from outside the lodging house, followed by the piercing cries of a despairing woman.
• You: What's going on?

• I look outside and in the darkness of the night, there's a commotion at the ward, which is a distance away from the lodging house.
• Niamh's Mother: No! No... Niamh... Niamh, what happened to you?! *sob*

• The familiar name takes my breath away, and I rush out of the lodging house.

• The patient who has suddenly fallen ill is quickly transported to the treatment room.
• As I enter, I see a familiar woman tightly gripping Doctor Grey's collar, pleading with him to save her daughter.
• You: (It's her!)

• I steal a quick glance into the treatment room.
• Two strong nurses are holding down a small girl who is struggling and clenching her teeth.
• Her hair is disheveled, her face filled with sorrow, and her entire body rigid in an unimaginable way. She lies on the bed, breathing rapidly as if she might stop breathing at any moment.
• Based on her height and build, she is indeed the little girl Priscilla and I rescued during the outbreak.
• You: (Niamh!...)

• Edward Grey: Please remain calm, ma'am. I will do my best to save her.

• Edward Grey: Nurse, give me an update. Is the patient running a fever?

• Nurse A: There doesn't appear to be a fever. She's experiencing muscle spasms, rapid breathing, and an escalated heartbeat—ah!

• Niamh suddenly screams in agony.
• She tilts her head back, contorts her body into a twisted posture, and her spine arches in the opposite direction.
• The onlookers are all stunned by this eerie pose.
• Niamh's Mother: What's happening to her? Has she been possessed by a demon?

• Edward Grey: ...

• Doctor Grey strides towards Niamh.
• He examines her limbs and breathing, then looks at her face. Finally, he lifts up the little girl's top without saying a word, gently touching her abdomen.
• Two nurses by the bedside exchange glances, quietly muttering "opisthotonus."
• After another minute, Doctor Grey stands up, his voice heavy.
• Edward Grey: Did she get injured?

• Niamh's mother slumps against the wall, too weak to respond. My heart sinks, and I answer for her.
• You: I can answer that. She was injured and beaten by the infected in the Eastern District.

• Edward Grey: How long ago was that? Did she receive any wound treatment at the time?

• You: It was about two weeks ago. As for treatment... we only washed the wound with water.

• Doctor Grey closes his eyes, and a sigh escapes his chest.
• The two nurses shake their heads, their faces reflecting a mix of regret and relief.
• Nurse A: Poor child, there's no hope for her.

• The older nurse mumbles something and quickly covers Niamh, who is still writhing, with a blanket.
• You: What's wrong?

• Nurse B: She has contracted tetanus. It has progressed to the point of opisthotonus, and her chances of survival are very slim.

• The younger nurse answers my question, her expression filled with sympathy as she gazes at Niamh.
• Nurse B: Doctor Grey, perhaps we can at least alleviate some of her pain? We still have some chloroform...

• Nurse A: Are you out of your mind? That's anesthesia reserved for patients undergoing surgery!

• Nurse A: What will happen to those patients if we use the chloroform on a dying child? Do you want them to suffer in pain?

• The older nurse raises her voice, retorting angrily. Niamh seems distressed by the argument, suddenly kicking her legs and arching her back even more violently.
• She keeps her teeth clenched, unable to make a sound, but her contorted face and uncontrollable limbs clearly convey silent and intense agony.
• Nurse B: Doctor! If this continues, she's going to hurt herself!

• Niamh's mother, who had been slumped against the wall, suddenly jumps up.
• She grabs onto Doctor Grey's clothes, her eyes wide and unblinking, staring at him.
• Niamh's Mother: That...medicine. Make her feel better.

• She wobbles, looking as if she's about to collapse.
• Niamh's Mother: Please...

• Edward Grey: ...

• Doctor Grey remains silent. He places his hand on the woman's arm, as if offering support, yet also as if he might try to pry her off his clothes.
• You: (What...what should I do?)

Persuade Niamh's mother

• You: I understand how you feel, ma'am. It's heartbreaking for all of us to see Niamh in such a state.

• You: But we're running low on medicine. The doctor only managed to acquire some this afternoon.

• You: There are still many patients waiting for surgery outside. Just like you, their families also want to save their loved ones...

• The light in her eyes grows dim.
• She releases her grip and slowly curls up on the floor. I can hardly bear to continue speaking.
• The despair of having her last glimmer of hope extinguished makes her voice weak.
• Niamh's Mother: Yes... my daughter is beyond saving... but there's still hope for everyone else...

• Her voice sounds very frail.
• Niamh's Mother: I shouldn't have let her go deliver the bread... It's my fault... It's all my fault...

• She walks over to the bed, her spirit shattered, and gazes at her daughter, who is in such agony that she cannot even utter a cry. She bends down to embrace her daughter's shoulders.
• Closing her eyes, she starts humming a lullaby that she used to sing to Niamh when she was just a baby.
• Niamh gasps, appearing as if she wants to respond, but her limbs refuse to obey her brain's commands.
• My vision blurs momentarily. Through my shimmering tears, I witness the woman gently planting a kiss on Niamh's forehead.

• The people in the treatment room start departing cautiously.
• Someone passes by and gently pats my shoulder, indicating that I should also leave. However, my legs feel utterly powerless, incapable of taking even a single step.
• Edward Grey: Caroline.

• A sudden shiver runs through me, causing my entire body to tremble as Edward softly whispers in my ear.
• Edward Grey: Lean on me.

• He supports me around the waist and allows me to rest my weight on his shoulder, helping me out of the treatment room.
• The door to the treatment room closes behind us.
• I have never seen death descend so vividly.

Plead with Doctor Grey

• Niamh continues to struggle silently on the hospital bed. I grit my teeth and step forward, gazing pleadingly at Doctor Grey.
• You: Doctor Grey, since you have anesthesia, why don't you use it?

• Edward Grey: ...

• You: Medicine is meant to treat illnesses and alleviate pain. Isn't now the time when it's needed the most?

• The elderly nurse standing behind Doctor Grey angrily retorts.
• Nurse A: And what will we do if we run out of anesthesia for surgeries?

• You: Even if medicine is scarce, there are always ways to gather and purchase it, but life is priceless.

• You: Isn't it the duty of a doctor to "prescribe regimens for the good of their patients"?

• The older nurse is taken aback by my words. She glances at Doctor Grey, seemingly curious about our relationship, but she doesn't argue any further.
• Edward Grey: Since you've dragged the Hippocratic Oath into this... Miss Rayes.

• Doctor Grey takes a deep breath and speaks calmly.
• However, I can sense a faint chill in his words.
• Edward Grey: Nurse, prepare the chloroform and inhaler, and be careful with the dosage.

• Edward Grey: Once the anesthesia takes effect, remember to lift her chin to prevent the tongue from obstructing the airway.

• Niamh's Mother: Thank you so much, doctor... I appreciate it! You are an angel!

• Niamh's mother is in tears, profusely thanking Doctor Grey. Afterwards, unrelated individuals are politely asked to leave the treatment room.

• The older nurse prepares the instruments, her disapproval evident on her face.
• Doctor Grey retrieves a glass bottle of chloroform from the medicine box, carefully checking the scale and calculating the dosage on paper.
• I anxiously stand by his side, unsure if my previous actions were too reckless.
• Edward Grey: You have to understand, Caroline.

• When we are alone, he keeps his head bowed while calculating, speaking casually.
• Edward Grey: Tonight, there is only one patient in the treatment room who is suffering greatly, while there are several bottles of chloroform in the medicine box.

• Edward Grey: All of this makes it easy for you to make a noble decision.

• Edward Grey: However, I'm afraid things aren't always so fortunate. I hope you will be mentally prepared for worse situations.

• A chill runs through my body. He picks up the medicine bottle, nods at me, and enters the treatment room.