Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

"What would you like to drink? It's on me."

Samael smiled and nodded, extending the invitation.

Fifteen minutes later, at the Golden Deer Bar, in front of the counter.

"Ah, the texture, the taste, it's simply amazing!"

Drake, his cheeks flushed, held an empty wine glass in one hand and slapped Samael's shoulder hard with the other, letting out a hearty laugh.

"You've got some skills, kid. I'm really starting to like you more and more!"

Clearly, Samael's bartending skills had earned the captain's approval.

Samael handed a mojito to the waiting knight Dion, then turned back and smiled.

"Is there anything else you'd like to drink, Captain?"

"Haha, another ten servings of coffee martinis, please! I want the strongest kind!"

Drake put his arm around the bartender's shoulder, licked his rosy lips, and excitedly announced.

A standard martini is made by mixing gin and vermouth, and then garnished with an olive.

The coffee martini, on the other hand, combines the roasted aroma of coffee with the strength of vodka, resulting in a more unique flavor that is beloved by the British.

Soon, a coffee martini in a large beer mug was handed to Drake.

The female captain couldn't wait to gulp down a few mouthfuls, letting out a comfortable groan. The flush on her face became even more vibrant, and she exuded an unusual excitement and satisfaction. Her gaze towards the bartender was full of approval and recognition, and she eagerly extended an invitation.

"Samael, right? How about joining me? My bar is short of a qualified bartender, and I think you'd be perfect for the job. Salary is negotiable, three times the going rate!"

"Um, actually I..."

Samael wanted to say that bartending was just a hobby and that he wasn't actually short of money.

"I heard you're looking for a place to stay? I offer room and board here!"

Before the bartender could show any hesitation, Drake, with his clear objective, continued to offer generous rewards and expertly put his arm around Samael's neck.

"The shop is short-staffed, and Harley can't handle everything by herself, so it's decided! That woman will take you to get a uniform made later. You'll stay here tonight and start work tomorrow!"

"Congratulations to the boss for recruiting such a great newcomer. Just for her skills, I'll definitely be a regular customer."

The knight Dion, standing nearby, savored his mojito and praised it highly.

"Sure thing, I'll give you a 20% discount later!"

At this moment, Drake spoke up heartily, then, fueled by alcohol, stood up on the table and waved his hand.

"We're having a great day, everyone gets a discount! All drinks are 30% off!"

"Big sister is mighty!"

Immediately, the whole audience cheered, and the atmosphere became even more enthusiastic.

As the Lily Knight smiled and winked at him, seeking praise, Samael was both amused and exasperated.

The person on the other end probably thought he was an innocent outsider who had been dragged into this mess, and worried that he would have difficulty making a living in the city. They wanted him to accept the job so that he could get Drake's protection.

But I really don't lack money, and I don't want to go to work.

However, given that it was done with good intentions, Samael had no choice but to accept it.

Anyway, bars, as hubs of information, are not bad places to gather intelligence.

Having been dragged onto this pirate ship, Samael shook his head, shouldered the responsibility of a bartender, and reluctantly began his forced business.

Drake got carried away with his drinking and started going from table to table challenging people to drinking contests, even threatening to give her a free meal if he knocked her out.

Fueled by fine wine and discounts, the heroes launched wave after wave of attacks, only to fall one by one to Drake's drinking prowess.

As the sun set and the bar closed, the female captain, who had single-handedly defeated ten men, stood tall, having completed her conquest. She looked down with her head held high as her defeated men left with their heads bowed, before finally succumbing to the effects of the alcohol and collapsing to the ground.

Since Mata Hari had to stay behind to clean up the scene, Samael, who had just been promoted to an employee, had no choice but to help his boss up to the bedroom on the second floor.

Just as Samael dragged the heavy Drake onto the bed, he went into the bathroom to clear some memory. The female alcoholic, who was on her deathbed, suddenly sat up when she heard the sound of water. As if she had a sudden burst of energy before death, she groped her way into the bathroom.

"Who? Who opened another bottle?"

"...!"

Samael nearly urinated on his pants.

"Let's drink... let's keep drinking!"

The female drunkard, with her eyes closed, pounced at the sound.

Hey!

Seeing that he couldn't dodge in the confined space, Samael's urethra instinctively contracted, forcibly holding back the half-empty vomit. He quickly pulled up his pants.

However, it was too late.

Drake, who was under the influence of alcohol, had successfully tackled Samael to the ground, his hands groping around, searching for the spout of the bottle.

hiss--!

Samael suddenly bent over backward, his face ashen, his lips twitching, and he gasped for breath.

"What...what happened? There's no more wine? Fill it up! Fill it up! I can still drink...I can still drink..."

Drake, clearly in a sleepwalking state, was still unwilling to admit defeat, even though his tongue was twitching when he spoke. He buried his head in his mouth, ready to violently open the bottle and fight his opponent again.

As the gleaming white teeth rapidly approached, Samael's face turned pale, his waist and hips trembled, and without hesitation, he raised his hand and struck the back of his new boss's head.

boom!

Instantly, Drake, who was still full of energy in his dream, fell to the ground and finally became completely obedient. However, his hand, which represented his indomitable will, still clung tightly to the upper half of the bottle.

A quarter of an hour later.

Samael, hunched over and leaning against the wall, staggered down the stairs from his bedroom, his face twitching, lamenting in his heart.

Indeed, when taking an intoxicated woman home, it's best to avoid using her restroom unless absolutely necessary.

It's not just to avoid suspicion, but also to avoid falling into a trap.

"What's wrong with you? You look strange..."

Mata Hari, who had just finished cleaning, looked at her new colleague at the top of the stairs, who was limping with her legs turned inward. She looked surprised.

"No, it's nothing, I just twisted my ankle."

Samael quickly waved his hand, his voice hoarse.

It's best not to talk about that kind of thing.

Seeing Samael's pained expression, Mata Hari inquired about his condition with concern.

"How serious is it? How about I take you to see a doctor? There's a clinic nearby that has a good treatment record."

Samael wanted to refuse, but Mata Hari still tried to persuade him, somewhat worried.

"At least buy some safflower oil to rub on it, and it just so happens that I'm taking you to get a set of work clothes made later, so it's on the way."

Can you prescribe some ointment to reduce swelling and bruising?

Samael felt the burning pain beneath him, hesitated for a moment, and finally nodded.

Half an hour later, Mata Hari drove a Volkswagen Beetle, carrying the disabled Samael, to the clinic.

As they entered, a female doctor with pink hair and red eyes, dressed in white, removed her mask and came out from the inner room. She glanced at the newcomer, her gaze stern, and spoke solemnly in an unquestionable tone.

"Go inside and lie down!"

"Excuse me, wrong door, sorry to bother you!"

As that resolute, steel-like face came into view, Samael's lips twitched violently. He decisively turned and ran away, inwardly cursing.

How could it be her? The head nurse who would wield a knife and attack people—Nightingale…

Judging from the method of summoning spirits, it's still the deadly Berserker class!

It's a portrait of Nightingale drawn by an individual.jpg

Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Battle to Protect Niu Niu

Under the dim streetlights, two figures chased each other.

"let me see!"

"do not want!"

"You are a patient!"

"I'm not sick!"

"Stop!"

"..."

Hearing the unquestionable, forceful tone behind him, and seeing the cold glint of a gleaming scalpel in the hand of a certain angel in white, Samael said nothing. He grabbed the bewildered Mata Hari and ran even faster, showing no signs of being a patient who had just suffered a serious injury to a vital area.

This woman has no idea how to listen to people properly!

Samael, his legs flailing outwards, looked back at the unlicensed female doctor who had relentlessly chased him for three blocks to examine and treat him, and felt like crying.

Florence Nightingale, the Crimean angel of history, whose creed was one of dedication and self-sacrifice, a woman of supreme faith.

She was born into a wealthy aristocratic family, but felt empty about such a life, and eventually became a nurse against her family's wishes.

Throughout her limited life, she dedicated herself to working for the sick and the poor, even leading volunteers to the Crimean battlefield to set up field hospitals, which greatly reduced the mortality rate of post-war care and saved countless soldiers.

Therefore, through her tireless efforts, Florence Nightingale improved the social status of nurses and the contemporary medical environment, earning her the titles of "Lady with the Lamp" and "Angel in White."

Based on her many achievements, her birthday was designated as International Nurses Day, and "Nightingale" became synonymous with nurses. All prospective nurses in nursing schools must take the "Nightingale Pledge" before graduating and entering the workforce.

In theory, such a legendary figure in the medical and nursing fields must have an excellent level of medical expertise.

However, she was summoned by the Berserker class.

As is well known, the most prominent characteristic of a berserker is the lack of rationality.

Even this legendary head nurse was not immune to this.

Therefore, in this present world, due to the fusion of her spirit and the berserk skill EX, Nightingale will never be frustrated. She possesses a strong spirit and the character to speak her mind regardless of who the opponent is—even if it is the monarch of the British Empire. She will then firmly carry out her will according to her own thinking.

Commonly known as, "They simply don't listen to people properly."

Her overly pure belief and astonishing demeanor, coupled with the direct influence of the Berserker, made her, in some circumstances, almost synonymous with "madness and terror."

She would do anything to save a life.

This naturally includes providing "appropriate" "emergency treatment" to patients in order to prevent infection and inflammation.

Now that the other side has even brought out a scalpel, Samael suspects that if he stays, the unlicensed female doctor behind him might tie him to the bed and just say something.

"It's hopeless, just cut it off."

Given how swiftly and cleanly this person acted, I probably won't even have time to cry.

"Patient, stop and stand still for the examination!"

The Lady with the Lamp, relentlessly pursuing them, spoke again, even drawing a pistol from her white coat and firing it into the air. Coupled with the gleaming scalpel in her other hand, she looked less like a doctor and more like a battlefield butcher hunting down deserters.

Nobody would listen to you!

Samael showed no sign of stopping; on the contrary, he ran even faster.

Finally, after chasing for two more blocks, Nightingale glanced at the clinic that had disappeared behind her, and then looked at the patient who had vanished at the end of the road.

He hesitated for a moment.

She seemed to remember her identity and responsibilities, and finally lowered her highly lethal sidearm and scalpel, turned around and returned to her post, her cold and stern face full of resentment.

No patient has ever escaped her clutches.

This is the first one...

However, it is God's sacred duty to healers to do their best to save every patient who seeks medical help!

As he was about to leave, his scarlet eyes cast a final, deep glance back at the dense twilight at the end of the road, his gaze radiating an unwavering determination.

"Ah!"

At the same time, Samael, who had successfully shaken off the berserk head nurse, suddenly felt a chill on his neck, and goosebumps broke out on his skin from the cold wind. His nose itched, and he couldn't help but sneeze loudly.