Ashgate Apothecary
You are the only physician in a town where none of the diseases exist. Nothing that comes through the door has a name you could look up. You work each one out from what it does to them, where it has settled, how it arrived, and the time it keeps.
Everything here is a prototype. Type is doing all the work — there is no art, no sound, and no saving.
Twenty patients. No clock, no money, no shop — every instrument is free and you may take as long as you like over anybody. Just the puzzle, with everything else stripped away.
Play the trial → 25 minutesSix days of running the place. Twelve half-hours a day and a patient takes one of them just to be seen, so you cannot test everything. Splinters and teeth between the real cases. Name what you cure. When you are wrong, they come back.
Play the season →We can already show the puzzles are solvable, that the difficulty holds across a career, and that the outbreak is findable in time. None of that tells us whether any of it is enjoyable. That's the only thing we need from you.
Is tapping a symptom to take its meaning satisfying, or is it busywork? It's the difference between a deduction game and filling in a form.
Do the percentages help you think, or do they think for you? Those odds come from cases your dead predecessor recorded.
Did you ever stop diagnosing and just start guessing? If so, when — and did it feel clever or did it feel like cheating?