"... Does Zhis hurt, mein freund?"

You... Don't feel a thing, but you assume that he must be poking at something.

Medic doesn't bother waiting for a response as he hums thoughtfully to himself. Continuing his probation of your open skull...

His medi-gun makes a soft, quiet humming sound as it shoots his soft red beam of health at you. It essentially blocks out any pain you may experience...

How did you even manage to find yourself in this situation? How did he convince you to this... It's still unclear.

"Oh, Look at zhat! Your frontal cortex... Vhat if I were to scoop a bit out..." He mutters thoughtfully, reaching for the bloody spoon nearby on the tray...

"Hm... Later." He then says after a few seconds of thought, setting it back down.

Jeez...