…
At the door of a pub, a gray-haired girl pushed open the partition as usual, preparing for another day of work.
She was Syr Flova, a street girl trainee who had been training for two and a half years.
She thought today would be just another ordinary day—but she didn't expect...
Just as she stepped out and wiped sweat from her brow, a piercing wail suddenly rang in her ears.
Instinctively, she turned her head.
A familiar childish face flashed past her sight.
"He..."
It was a somewhat familiar face—or rather, a face that seemed familiar in her memory.
It wasn't quite the face she was used to, but a wave of strong emotion still surged in her heart.
Syr glanced up at the Tower of Babel's upper floors, where a goddess was also looking down at a nearby street corner. The exchange of emotions made both feel uneasy.
"Hey, Miss Syr, you've heard about this, right?" an adventurer on the roadside boasted. "The patient who escaped and caused all that trouble last night? That's him."
"The whole Guards Corps is swamped because of him!"
"But... wasn't this kid a critically injured adventurer on the verge of death? He's yelling so loudly, I doubt he's dying now."
Syr clenched her fists, eyes fixed on the direction the boy was headed.
"He... is dying?! Why is this happening?"
…
Dian Cecht Familia, ICU.
Charles lay on the hospital bed, feeling depressed.
Airmid examined Charles's injuries, eyes widening.
"Seventy-two fractures all over your body, plus a mild concussion of internal organs. Hmm, strange... What about your burns and penetrating wounds?"
Charles replied calmly, "They're gone."
"Hiss... 'Gone?' How?"
Airmid was silent for over ten seconds, swallowed hard, then repeated, voice raised:
"Alright?! Injuries like that would normally take at least three months of recovery! You were basically a corpse, and you recovered overnight?!"
Charles's rapid recovery shattered everything Airmid had learned.
For a healer, this kind of shock was like pulling a magic trick in front of a group of skeptics—even in a world with magic.
She glanced at Adi, who was grinning awkwardly, and asked, "Is this really the patient from yesterday?"
"Yes, that should be him. See, he's still wearing the hospital gown from your nursing home."
"What about this injury?"
Adi looked away guiltily.
"But... it might be my fault."
Charles rolled his eyes.
For a normal person, being hauled over eaves and walls might be no big deal. But Charles was a "fragile college student" with drastically reduced endurance—too much exertion could lead to sudden death. How was he supposed to survive that kind of parkour?
"Heh... girl, hatred just keeps cycling," Charles teased.
"Uh..." Adi shrank her neck. "There was nothing we could do about it."
"Dian Cecht's therapists have been running around all night, and villains are everywhere. To dismantle their plans quickly, we had to go straight to the root."
"Hmph~, that's no excuse to hurt me."
"Sorry, sorry." Adi rubbed her hands nervously.
"Or... pay up."
"Hmm? Ah?"
This person answers quickly...? Charles turned to the little saint.
"Why? Don't you like valis very much?" Airmid said matter-of-factly.
"No! You're insulting my dignity! Am I someone who'd sell out my pride for a little money?"
"No?" Airmid tilted her head at Charles's angry face.
"I recall the Ganesha clan is far richer than Lyon and the others. Adi is also Shakti's sister, a first-level adventurer..."
That didn't sound right. This mental state didn't match the impression Charles had of his own condition. Maybe he was worsening? He made a mental note.
Charles took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and shouted:
"Please insult me severely!"
Phew... no worsening condition, Airmid crossed out the note.
Adi: "..."
She always felt Charles should be under arrest, but somehow couldn't find a good reason.
"Okay, I'll make up for my mistake."
Charles blinked. "So you admit you inhumanely ravaged my body and want to compensate me?"
Adi nodded. "Yes. I admit it. It's all my fault. I'm sorry."
Snap...
A strange mechanical sound came from Charles's hand.
Both women looked over and saw Charles holding a square magic item made from branches of the Great Sacred Tree.
Immediately, the familiar conversation echoed from the magic device:
"So you admit you brutally ravaged my body..."
"Yes, it's all me..."
Adi froze. "This..."
Charles patted the phonograph. "Very good. Now I don't have to worry about you defaulting on my debt."
Adi exhaled deeply and silently pulled out handcuffs: "Threatening public officials... arrest!"
Airmid stopped her, face stern: "Who said you could stand up?"
"Ah?!"
Boom! It hurts! Stop! No!
After half an hour of bone recovery, Charles was finally able to stand on the ground again—plaster-wrapped.
Charles glared at Airmid gloomily:
"I almost thought you wanted to kill me."
She looked away guiltily. "This is normal treatment procedure."
"Then why did you cut my skin with a knife?!"
"This is necessary!"
"Then why did you take my blood?"
"This too is necessary."
Airmid grew more confident as she spoke: "Incisions are essential for reduction surgery. Blood tests check body components to see if there's infection."
That actually makes a lot of sense...
"Do you dare look me in the eye and say that again."
Under Charles's stare, Airmid's pale face slowly flushed red.
Yes, she had lied. Charles's physique was so special she couldn't help but study it a little.
Just for a moment.
The guilty saint looked away and quickly changed the subject:
"Your condition is serious. You should wear the cast for three months before moving."
"Impossible!"
Are you kidding? The fragile college student effect only lasts a week. He had to improve his stats desperately while the skill lasted.
With a health-lock buff like that, nothing else would make accomplishing great feats easier.
"You need rest."
"I don't have time!"
"I won't let my patients leave before they're fully recovered!"
"But I'm fine now!"
They glared at each other, sparks flying from their eyes.
Even Adi couldn't intervene between the two combatants—until a fourth voice sounded.
Outside the treatment room, Zanis coughed softly, hands behind his back: "I don't recall any precedent of the Dian Cecht family detaining other people's relatives."
"Lord Zanis..." Charles was stunned for a second, then immediately slipped into dramatic mode:
"Captain, you've come just in time! They're trying to plunder our clan's assets!"
"Oh?" Zanis raised an eyebrow.
"My medical bills have already totaled nearly 10 million valis!" Charles threw out an astonishing figure.
Zanis's pupils contracted sharply.
This kid! Soma's inferior divine wine sold for only 60,000 valis a bottle, and profit was even less. How had he accumulated so much debt in just two days?
Zanis turned to leave.
Charles blinked and added, "This is all compensation from the Astraea and Ganesha families. But I don't think I need such excessive treatment. That money should have gone to compensate the family."
Zanis stopped in his tracks.
"I see. I already understand the situation. Please come with me first. When I have time, I'll personally meet your leader to discuss this."
Airmid opened her mouth to mention clan conflicts, but being young, she had little experience with such matters.
Adi urgently needed to report to Shakti, at least to help dismantle conspiracies brewing everywhere.
As for valis... that was a matter for later.
…
-End Chapter-
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