Chapter 13
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Translator: MJK
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: The Generous Healer (3)
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Truth be told, I'd never actually tried it on anyone, so I had no idea how effective it would be.
But recalling how Erich—rarely one to complain—hadn't kicked up a fuss, I figured it couldn't be that bad.
"I got permission from our homeroom teacher to practice. And lately, I've started seeing some results."
"Practice... You mean potion-making practice."
Lee Hae-sol muttered under his breath, Wonder why I couldn't find her anywhere,—was he looking for me? Why?—before staring at the vial for a moment. Then, in a barely audible voice, he said,
"Thanks. I'll put it to good use."
The corners of his lips twitched upward ever so slightly on that expressionless face.
His eyes, usually a bit dull, seemed a touch less shadowed now.
I averted my gaze awkwardly and fiddled with the box lid.
Just then, another shadow stopped in front of me.
"Jin Hari."
It was a voice I'd heard once before, already growing familiar.
"Ah, Han-seong!"
I turned and greeted him warmly, and his expression shifted just a little.
His usual blank look softened somewhat, and his chest puffed out briefly before settling.
It was obvious Yoo Han-seong had just come back from practical training too.
I handed him a vial as well and said,
"I don't have much use for them myself, and they're just piling up. So I brought them out to give to people who need them."
"Here?"
"Right in front of the infirmary—who wouldn't need one here?"
"Fair point."
Lee Hae-sol nodded lightly and murmured in agreement.
Yoo Han-seong fell silent for a moment, eyeing the now-empty box I'd given to the upperclassmen, then the one I was still holding.
"No way."
"Yep, I set some aside for you two."
I beamed at them both.
Despite the slight awkwardness since it was only our second real conversation, Lee Hae-sol applied the potion to his hand right there on the spot.
Oh, he just goes for it without a second thought.
For the record, potions in this world weren't just for drinking.
You could apply them, throw them, spill them...
All sorts of methods worked.
"How is it?"
Lee Hae-sol's eyes widened slightly as he looked at the back of his hand where the wound had been.
Yoo Han-seong stepped closer, peering at it alongside me.
We watched new skin sprout in an instant.
"...It didn't look like a mid-grade potion."
"Of course not. How could I make that many mid-grades? I can't yet. But since it wasn't a deep wound, it healed fast, I guess."
Still a long way to go.
Though I did succeed with one.
Both of them stared at me, faces full of unspoken questions and utter bewilderment.
"...?"
I tilted my head and continued.
"It's low-grade. The lowest tier, sure, but still a success. I can make the lowest-grade ones pretty reliably now. I could do it with my eyes closed?"
I grinned proudly, but Lee Hae-sol's sharply furrowed brow—sharp as carved ice—twitched.
He alternated serious glances between his hand and me, then muttered,
"Am I imagining it?"
"Imagining what?"
"...Nah, never mind. More importantly, let me pay you for it."
I tilted my head, shrugged, and replied,
"I'm just handing them out from practice."
I said it casually, but of course I knew better. This was something people would pay for.
"If you need more..."
Before I could finish, Yoo Han-seong peeked into the box.
He drew in a sharp, brief breath.
"This one's a different color."
He pointed to a small, pale purple vial with its lid on.
I instinctively pulled the box closer to my chest.
"Uh. That one..."
The mid-grade one I mentioned earlier.
D-grade at best, but still.
I averted my eyes a bit.
Under Yoo Han-seong's steady gaze, I smiled awkwardly and said,
"It's... mid-grade."
For a split second, both their eyes sparkled.
Yoo Han-seong studied my face before asking bluntly,
"Who’s this for?"
It didn't feel like an interrogation, but I still felt a pang of self-consciousness.
I cleared my throat and answered,
"For the teacher."
"Our homeroom teacher?"
"Yeah. He let me use the workshop."
Yoo Han-seong paused, staring quietly at the mid-grade potion.
Then he murmured lowly,
"Not like it's payment or anything."
His tone was oddly cryptic.
Like it wasn't something to be grateful for.
Still, he seemed to approve of giving it to the homeroom teacher, nodding faintly.
"Gratitude's gratitude!"
Strangely, the two—who barely knew each other—let out soft sighs in unison.
They’re getting some weird misunderstanding here.
But before I could ask, Yoo Han-seong spoke up.
"Got it. If that's how you want it. Anyway, Jin Hari—mind talking with me for a sec?"
"Huh? Why?"
I glanced at Lee Hae-sol, who watched us quietly before nodding as if he'd made up his mind.
"I'll head out then."
"Ah, sure."
"..."
Yoo Han-seong didn't reply.
A moment later.
As soon as Lee Hae-sol left, he turned and started walking ahead.
I sighed quietly and followed.
"What is it?"
I whispered while catching my breath, and he replied without looking back.
"Something to talk about."
He added,
"About your potions."
I tensed up briefly.
Had something about them rubbed this regressor the wrong way?
Maybe I'd drawn too much attention beyond the casual acquaintance I aimed for—or worse, marked myself as a target.
A flurry of wild thoughts slowed my steps for a moment.
Or maybe it's just the mid-grade one.
That made sense.
He doesn't seem greedy for it, though.
No way he'd fixate on a mere mid-grade.
Or had I overlooked something?
At the end of the hall, Yoo Han-seong stopped and slowly turned.
A breeze slipped through the window, brushing past his silver eyes.
And he said,
"You wouldn't happen to know something, would you?"
"Huh?"
I'd thought it was about the potions, but this came out of nowhere.
Oh, wait.
I hugged the box tighter.
Is he talking about the future where top-grade potions are needed...?
But why ask me like that?
"Know what? Weren't we talking potions? I figured you'd ask me to make you a mid-grade."
"If I asked, would you?"
"I'd do it if I could, but I can't promise right now."
I said it a bit glumly, and he gave me a look like he couldn't believe it.
Then, his expression grew complicated, and he sighed softly before saying,
"The reason you were so desperate with potion-making practice from the start of the semester."
He spoke in a quiet, low voice.
"That's what I wanted to ask about."
What kind of context is this?
I tilted my head but answered honestly anyway.
"Practice is better the earlier and more you do it...?"
"That desperate?"
"I'm weak and useless. Potion-making's the only thing I can do."
Saying it outright should help with my image management.
I stated it flatly, and he faltered.
"...You mentioned dreaming something. Doesn't that strike you as odd?"
The dream.
He must mean when I said I met the entity that introduced me to Erich in a dream.
I couldn't figure out why the potion talk veered back to that.
"Hmm, I did think it was no ordinary dream... Is there something more to it?"
"Hm."
He looked conflicted, paused, then shook his head.
"Nah. I think I misunderstood."
"Huh?"
"I've had suspicious dreams like that before too. Thought yours was the same. Sorry."
I dropped the puzzled look and flashed a bright smile.
"Oh, that's what you meant? No worries. Makes sense."
"Thanks."
He seemed ready to end it there.
But he hesitated, then eyed me suspiciously and said,
"Jin Hari."
"Yeah?"
"That potion."
"Yeah? Want more?"
"No, the color."
"What's wrong with the color?"
Sure enough, that color had gotten to him.
I'd noticed him fixating on it earlier.
"Purple tones mean mental potions, right?"
"Yep. You know your stuff."
I said it gladly, but his expression didn't change.
Instead, he slowly reached out and tapped the top of the box.
The lid lifted just a sliver.
"Any special reason for mental potions? They're not even that versatile."
"Ah, well..."