Ten minutes earlier, during a patrol, Doberman had been ambushed by two worms while clearing away Worm's contamination. He had driven his attackers back, but had been injured himself.
Ji Jue flew into a rage.
The moment the elevator dinged at his floor, he rolled up his sleeves and charged out, kicking open the doors to the Central Dispatch Center in a fury.
How dare you touch my dog!
Sure, Brother Doberman isn't actually my dog, but rounding up, I've already petted the CEO. Doesn't that make the chief of security at least half mine?
I'll slaughter your whole family, wipe out your household, exterminate nine generations of your clan!
Then he saw Doberman lying on a stretcher carried by Corgi and Dachshund amid a great crowd of the Woof Woof Squad, surrounded by dogs sniffing him nonstop.
He tried to get up several times, only to be held down by the medical department's director, a Saint Bernard far larger than him, and made to obediently accept treatment.
Noticing Ji Jue's arrival, he seemed displeased, snorted an impatient sneeze, and looked away.
He hid the largest wound on his face where Ji Jue couldn't see it.
The good news: no missing limbs.
The bad news: the wound really wasn't small.
The winding gash stretched from the corner of his eye almost to his neck. Flesh curled outward, yet no blood flowed.
Once the fur around it had been shaved away, strands of radiance rose from Saint Bernard and settled over the wound. Like stitches, they barely held it together, forming a thin scab, only for it to split open again moments later.
"How's he doing?"
Ji Jue leaned forward, ignored Doberman's warning look, and circled around to examine the wound with his hand.
"No damage to the bones or tendons.