There had always been need of the medical arts. In a turbulent world such as this, it was more than necessary. But even for the fishman who had seen more than he had wanted to during his short time on the earth, the tales of bloodshed dribbling their way throughout the island from Nanohana were scary tales. Fearsome monsters of supernatural power threw the city into a frenzy. It wasn't like these were an old wive's tale, Gil saw for himself the grievous wounds one poor feller sported while he nattered on about the things he had seen. The injured man had made the trip to a nearby village seeking medical aid where Gil had been laying low. The outfall in situations like these proved too much of a stress test for the clinics and hospitals in the area. Apparently there was just not enough staff to deal with the demand for them.
Naturally, this situation interested Gil. He would have a candy store of potential clients, all clamouring to be treated by him. It was funny how racially bound reservations disappeared with desperation. So he made the journey over there, the city known as Nanohana. There was also another reason that he wanted to go, and that was to further his research. It wasn't often that he got to test out the knowledge he had gained through secondary sources out in the real world. There was much that was taboo in the medical world, and the rights of the patients were seen as crucial and often put at the top of the list of concerns. He was even aware that some people chose to turn down treatment because they didn't want it. Maybe the medicine took too much of a toll, maybe the procedure was too painful, maybe they didn't believe in the help they were receiving. The worst reason for Gil had to be when a patient didn't follow direction simply because they couldn't be bothered or didn't care. This annoyed him more than anything. At one point he forcefully tied a sick man to his own bed so that he would have to get some rest instead of going back to work. But now that people were desperate to be treated, maybe they would be open to trying Gil's less 'orthodox' methods.
So the fishman traveled to Nanohana. The destruction of the port town had worsened since he had been here last. He remembered Jackal telling him about a few pirates that had been causing mayhem here, but the place truly was in a state of disrepair. Construction was being carried out on buildings, with supplies being brought in to the city by boat and cart. Injured souls sat outside of homes, their faces sullen. After everything that had taken place here, it was like a small natural disaster had befallen the place.
He would soon find a seaside clinic, with half a dozen people standing outside in various states of disrepair. This looked like it would do nicely. He would nod his head at the man standing at the front of the line before barging into the clinic. The man was about to speak up before he flinched at the sight of Gil's green scales. The place was packed, with injured people laying down on the floor. The clinic staff were rushed off their feet, running from room to room and hurrying their patients through with them. What a busy time to be in the healthcare industry. Gil make sure no staff would be looking before he walked behind the counter and into the back office. He would pluck one of the white coat uniforms hanging up in there as well as a bag of supplies and make his way back out. Slipping it on, the coat would lay awkwardly over the top of his own jacket. He was now the not so convincing image of a medical professional. Before any staff had the chance to see him, he would slip outside.
"Alright, now. It seems we are full to capacity inside the clinic I am afraid. However I am able to visit you at your homes and see what I can do for you there." Gil would croak, attempting to mimic the customer service facade that he had seen used many a time. His own bedside manner left much to be desired as he simply didn't think it was worth the effort. However this time he decided it may be worth it to grease the wheels a bit. A few of the humans muttered between themselves, dubious at the prospect of taking a strange fishman home. However, one young man seemed keen enough, or desperate enough to take the chance. Gil would follow him a few blocks down the seaside street and into his shoddy abode. The man did not look well at all. His left arm was completely bandaged, but it was also soaked in blood. There was sweat dripping down his face and deep circles under his eyes. Gil told him to get comfortable and pulled up a chair. His green hands would go to hold the man's arm, beginning to unravel the bandage. The appendage was a sight to behold. Red, blue and black. It was ripped to shreds. Gil could tell that this injury was a couple of days old just from looking at it. An open wound that hadn't been sanitised and closed properly. It was infected, he could see the dark purple lines beginning to run up and away from the wound itself. It may be hard to believe for someone who didn't know much about medicine, but a wound like this was actually fatal. The blood loss had mostly stopped, it wouldn't be from bleeding out. It would be from that infection finding it's way to his heart.
Gil gagged and wretched. He had something that he had been working on for a week or so now that may prove useful. But more importantly to the fishman, it would create a data point for him to use to track it's usefulness. "Oh... I knew it was bad... What is going to happen to me. Oh god. I need my arm to be able to work. Please doctor, are you able to do something?" The young man was pleading at this point. He had misinterpreted Gil's gagging as a sign of repulsion. "This is going to feel strange and painful. I need you to trust me. If you can put up with the pain while letting me work, then there is a chance to save your arm." What he really needed was for the patient to stay still and not interfere. The patient would nod enthusiastically. His spirit was admirable. In the face of adversity and imminent pain, he pressed on. There was something to be said for the hardy people of Alabasta. But this response was probably because the young guy wasn't prepared for the freakishness that was about to take place.
Gil found a scalpel in his bag of supplies and pulled it out. The patient swallowed hard, expecting to be operated on. But instead, Gil whipped out his leg from underneath the table, planting his foot firmly on the ground before stabbing himself in the thigh and cutting himself open. The young man wailed in confusion. Gil would then throw the scalpel aside and dig his hand into his thigh and pull out a small handful of maggot like grubs. He had been incubating these babies for a while now. He would then sprinkle them onto the man's left arm. The man would wail even louder, attempting to retreat. "Let them work. You gave me your word that you would put up with it. This is all for the sake of saving your arm." Gil croaked. After a shudder, the man would place his arm over the table, watching in horror as the maggots burrowed into his appendage. These maggots were carnivorous, but they only ate dead flesh. This is how he was able to store them inside himself without being eaten. These maggots would be able to strip away dead tissue with a much higher precision than any human was capable of. The only flesh that the man would be left with after they were done was whatever was savable. To be honest, he wasn't too optimistic about being able to save arm, but he didn't care too much when he had the chance to observe a new product of his in action. Gil would lean right over into the wound so his nose was almost touching it. His black eyes bulged, scientific curiosity itch being thoroughly scratched. He would gag again, starting to summon act two from his stomach. "Hmm... I think they've matured a bit too far. Using them while they are younger would be preferable due to their smaller size being about to get into smaller areas."
The poor patient's eyes were dinner plates, the cold sweat turning into a waterfall off his forehead. He was going green with queasiness himself, dry retching at his own wound. "It will take them a minute to do their thing. So, you haven't slept for a while, right?" The human shook his head, the dark rings around his eyes showing this truth. "Not since I got this. I can't get comfortable. It's just too painful." "How about food and water?" He shook his head again. "My stomach doesn't hold it." Gil would get up and find his way to a large bottle of drinking water. He would bring it over to the table. "You're dehydrated. Drink a litre before you go to bed tonight and another two litres tomorrow." The man would nod. That request seemed insignificant in the wake of the maggot invasion. Inspecting the wound further, Gil would note that it was a collection of bullet wounds. Some sort of powerful, high velocity firearm had shredded through. "Can you tell me how you got this?"