Body Donation Contract

"Doctor Norman, I don't understand." The nurse beside him closed the door, hurried a few steps to catch up, and said quietly, "Our department's funding is already tight. Why are we still letting her take up a bed? She clearly has no money!"

"Who said she has no money?"

The nurse froze for a moment.

"You're new here, aren't you?"

"Yes, I... I'm still an intern."

"No wonder." Doctor Norman shook his head and said with a sigh, "She's only out of cash. She herself is a mine of wealth."

The nurse blinked, not quite understanding what he meant.

"She has carefully tended long hair, a complete set of unworn teeth, healthy young bones, smooth, supple skin... How interesting. Every part of a person is so intricate and expensive, yet put them together and they become worthless."

Vanessa's mind felt like a jumble.

So much had happened lately. She felt as though her life had changed completely in an instant, as though what she had lost wasn't her job, but her dignity, her self-respect, and the very foundation of her existence as a human being.

She wasn't even particularly afraid of the entity controlling her. Instead, she felt somewhat grateful. Perhaps she would someday be sent to an evil altar and stripped of her soul and flesh, but without that entity, she would already be dead.

She had always thought all those terrifying Esoteric Cults and bloody sacrifices were horrifying. Only now did she realize that the most horrifying thing was actually having no money.

In New Scandinavia, people died the moment they ran out of money. All that remained was a corpse that could still move.

Vanessa was covered in hot-water bottles, yet whenever she thought of the fate awaiting her, she felt cold all over. Even the freezing rain outside seemed warmer.

The ward door suddenly swung open. Vanessa looked up, then raised her eyebrows in surprise.

It wasn't Doctor Norman or a nurse who came in, but a familiar face.

The balding man wore a dark trench coat, his bulging belly stretching its row of buttons almost to breaking point. He had a soft hat on and was struggling to squeeze through the ward's rather narrow doorway.

"Director Randall?"

"Oh, this damned door. I told them ages ago they ought to widen it!" The man set a bag by Vanessa's bedside, then, panting, dragged over two stools and sat down on them. Both stools groaned under his weight.

Vanessa instinctively tried to sit up, but the hot-water bottles pinned her down. After one attempt, she gave up and spoke while still lying there:

"Thank you for coming. Did Doctor Norman notify you?"

"Nobody notified me. It took me a lot of effort to find you." As Randall complained, he took an apple from the bag, rubbed it on his clothes, and began taking big bites.

"Didn't I tell you to find a place to live? ...Mm, this fruit is sweet... Look at you. Just a few days without a place to stay, and you've already ended up on the streets."

"I-I'm sorry!" Vanessa lowered her head. "But I really had no money left..."

Randall froze, looking at her in disbelief. "You ran out of money?"

"Yes..."

"Then why didn't you borrow some? Not one of your colleagues knew where you were, and the local gangs haven't lent you anything either. Damn it, you could at least have found an empty house and sneaked in to stay there!"

"I..." Vanessa's face flushed red. "I didn't dare."

"You useless little cookie, you crumbling doughnut. You nearly fucking died out here, and you still didn't dare borrow money?" Randall laughed in exasperation, then took two more apples from the bag at once and started eating them, one in each hand.

Vanessa kept her head down and said nothing, letting Randall berate her with spit flying from his mouth. Only when he had tired himself out did she cautiously speak:

"Director Randall, did you... come to visit me?"

"Who would visit a useless fool like you? I'm here to bring you donations."

"Donations?" Vanessa was startled.

"Yes. Your colleagues and students heard you'd been fired and pooled some money. Eighty-seven Leo."

Eighty-seven Leo. Vanessa's eyes immediately widened. When she had left her job, she had only had twenty-odd Leo in total. With those eighty-seven Leo, she could afford to rent a room. Perhaps she could hold on a little longer.

Then she thought of how the money had all come from colleagues who were always making cutting remarks and mocking her, and students who skipped class and caused her trouble all day. She felt tears welling up.

"Oh, D-Director Randall, thank you for coming. These eighty-seven Leo mean so much to me..."

"Hold on. Who said I was giving you all eighty-seven?"

"Huh?"

"Twenty of those eighty-seven came from me. If I hadn't taken the lead, they wouldn't have given anything. Do you understand?"

"I-I understand..."

"So I'm taking those twenty back. As for the remaining sixty-seven Leo, we'll split them thirty-seventy..."

"What! I only get seventy percent?"

Director Randall laughed in exasperation again. He bit viciously into his apple, sending juice splattering everywhere.

"Thirty percent! You only get thirty percent! Seventy percent is mine! And the cost of this fruit comes out of your thirty percent!"

Still seemingly unsatisfied after saying that, the man took out another apple and began eating it.

Creak-

The ward door opened again, and Norman walked in holding a stack of contracts. He froze at the sight of Randall beside the bed, then immediately plastered a smile onto his face:

"Mr. Randall, how did you find the time to come here?"

"You make it sound like I wanted to come. I'm here to bring this useless fool some money."

As Norman watched him take a money pouch from his pocket, the corner of his eye twitched.

He tried to slip the contracts behind his back without drawing attention, but when he looked up, he found Randall's small eyes already fixed on him.

"What are you holding?"

"These... are Miss Vanessa's bills, and... uh, a contract..."

"What contract?"

Norman tried to force a smile but failed. Under Randall's somewhat hostile gaze, he said stiffly:

"Well... Miss Vanessa can no longer pay her medical expenses, so it's... a Body Donation Contract."

Vanessa's eyes immediately widened at those words. She looked at Doctor Norman in disbelief, then turned a pleading gaze toward Randall. "Director Randall..."

"A Body Donation Contract? Hmm, that's actually not bad. You only have to donate your body after you die. It's no big deal," Randall said indifferently. "Perhaps you'll be back at school in a few days. I'll bring your colleagues to visit you in the medical school's dissection room."

Vanessa opened her mouth but couldn't get a word out.

Indeed, she couldn't even be sure she would survive now. What difference would donating her body make?

Having people watch her dissection would be somewhat embarrassing, but at least she would already be dead by then.

Norman, meanwhile, visibly relaxed.

Randall glanced at him and suddenly asked, "How has your department's funding been lately?"

"Very tight. There are a lot of bad debts we haven't recovered," Norman answered reflexively. Then his whole body went rigid, and he averted his gaze guiltily.

"If funding is tight, donating your body might not be such a good thing." Randall sneered.