The Incubus System

The Incubus System Chapter 797. Experimental Object

Once Jill's trembling began to subside and a flicker of calm returned to her eyes, I exchanged a brief nod with Mrs. Clea.

It was a silent agreement that she would manage the situation with the medical workers while I continued to focus on Jill.

Mrs. Clea turned her attention to the medical staff, while I shifted my gaze back to Jill.

With a mental command, I activated my skill, 'Mind Corruption. Read. All about her family and her strength.'

I closed my eyes and focused my skill, the flood of information surged into my consciousness.

I anticipated that I would glimpse into Jill's memories of her home and family, hoping to better understand the circumstances that had led to her current situation. However, what I encountered first was a shocking revelation that sent shivers down my spine.

The images that unfolded in my mind were far from the comforting scenes I had expected. Instead, they portrayed a grim and unsettling reality. I found myself immersed in a stark and sterile laboratory environment. Doctors and scientists in white coats surrounded Jill.

My heart clenched. I saw large syringes, unfamiliar devices, and scalpels in their hands. It was clear that this was no ordinary medical setting. My unease grew as I witnessed Jill's desperation, her screams echoing through the sterile air as she pleaded for mercy. Her body was restrained, leaving her defenseless against their cruel intentions.

A luminous, otherworldly liquid was injected into her, and the pain that consumed her was beyond comprehension. I could almost feel her agony as if it were my own. But amidst her torment, I heard the chilling words of the scientists.

"She is a failure. She won't be able to wield substantial power against high-level demons," they declared coldly.

The pieces began to fall into place, and the truth emerged with painful clarity. Jill had been subjected to experiments and turned into an unwitting pawn of Eldoria's government.

It explained her visceral fear of doctors and nurses, her scars, and the trauma that had left an indelible mark on her.

In the shadows of her past, I also saw the woman she had referred to as her adoptive mother.

This woman, Amelia, wasn't driven by genuine maternal instincts. Instead, she appeared to be a government employee, a staff member of an institution that likely oversaw the horrifying experiments. Driven by some twisted sense of duty or perhaps even a desire for control, Amelia had taken Jill in to prevent her from being cast aside like a discarded tool.

Jill's adoptive mother had adorned herself in the guise of a caretaker, but the truth was far more sinister. Amelia's attention had waned quickly. Her responsibilities seemed to have outstripped her capacity for compassion, and Jill had been left to fend for herself within the very home.

I witnessed the cycle of abuse that unfolded. What had once been an arrangement of convenience turned into a nightmare. Amelia's involvement with a politician only seemed to exacerbate her disregard for Jill's well-being. The woman who had taken Jill in for her own motives had become the source of her suffering.

Jill's vulnerability was exploited, her trust shattered, and her spirit broken by the very person who should have protected her. And yet, despite the abuse and neglect, Jill still considered Amelia as her mom.

I opened my eyes and pulled her into a gentle hug, my arms enveloping her as if to shield her from the pain of her memories. "You're safe now," I whispered, my voice carrying a mixture of reassurance and determination. "You're not alone anymore. We're here for you, Jill."

Mrs. Clea's eyes were filled with genuine concern. Alan, standing nearby, mirrored her unease.

"What has happened to her?" Mrs. Clea's voice held a tremor of worry.

I met her gaze, offering a reassuring nod. "I'll explain everything to you later," I said.

Jill's sobs subsided, I turned to Mrs. Clea with a determined expression. "We need to get her out of here. She's terrified, and being in this environment is only going to make it worse."

Mrs. Clea nodded in agreement, her eyes filled with compassion. "You're right. We should bring her home first, and let her calm down. Then we can come back tomorrow or whenever she's feeling more at ease."

The medical workers, looking concerned yet understanding, approached cautiously. One of the nurses, a middle-aged woman with a sympathetic smile, spoke up.

"We understand that Jill is distressed right now. But we still need to examine her to make sure she's physically okay."

I shot them a resolute look, my priority firmly set on Jill's emotional well-being.

"I appreciate your concern, but right now, her mental state is fragile. Forcing her into an examination could make things worse."

Mrs. Clea stepped forward. "We promise we'll bring her back tomorrow or as soon as she's ready. Our main focus is her comfort and safety."

The doctor seemed to consider our words. "Very well. We'll trust your judgment on this. But please, if she shows any signs of physical distress or discomfort, don't hesitate to bring her back immediately."

I nodded gratefully, acknowledging their concern. "Thank you for understanding. We'll make sure she's taken care of."

With that, Mrs. Clea and I gently approached Jill, who was still trembling in Mrs. Clea's embrace. "Jill, sweetie," Mrs. Clea's voice was soothing, "we're going to take you home now, okay? You're safe with us."

Tears still glistened in Jill's eyes, but a hint of relief began to emerge. With slow, cautious movements, we helped her stand and guided her toward the door.

We left the room and Jill's grip on my hand tightened. I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. It was weird since I wasn't in disguise, but she seemed to know who I was. Mrs. Clea walked beside us.

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