Breaking the Curse (1)
“Antibiotics, antibiotics, more antibiotics here, and this one… huff, Doctor!”
Chloe greeted me with her usual stutter. When I told her the duel trial had gone off without a hitch, she finally breathed a sigh of relief.
“H-how did the antidote work?”
“Antidote. It worked fine. Well, thinking about the principle, it's kinda similar wording anyway.”
“Y-yeah. It was poison made with black magic, after all.”
Antidote. The process of lifting curses.
“I couldn't pay much attention to it because of the duel.”
I'd openly declared at the party that I'd cut her open.
“The problem is this.”
I checked the X-ray image I'd transferred to the revision tool using the status window's recording function. While researching the shadow poison, I'd spotted the same mechanism in Asella's image. The black mass tangled in her abdomen was judged to be a curse.
I could handle poisons with antidotes, but this was a high-grade curse that even Diagnosis couldn't identify. I needed to know exactly what it was to counter it. If I cut carelessly, the curse could explode right then and there.
“Chloe, you know much about curses?”
“N-no. Curse lifting is handled by specialist antidote healers.”
“Antidote specialists, huh.”
I'd need one.
“Who's the best antidote specialist in the Imperial Medical Office?”
“Um, probably Hugo… I think?”
“Hugo? 'Black Hand Hugo'?”
“Huh? You know him?”
I knew him well. From ten years in the future.
—A hero sent by the hateful Empire!
—Healer! He must be from the Empire's Imperial Medical Office. I won't forgive those demons!
I recalled Hugo spouting raid boss-level lines like that.
[No. 025 Black Hand's Curse 21%]
Hugo was the leader of a black magic cult worshiping the serpent dragon. He wielded some pretty potent curses, making him a tricky foe.
'Kicked out of the Imperial Medical Office for causing trouble, then went down the black magic path.'
“Where is he now?”
“Um. Probably still working on the serpent dragon corpse antidote…”
“He's still at that?”
“Y-yeah, they're struggling with it.”
You couldn't just burn or bury the serpent dragon corpse we'd taken down at the martial tournament. Its curses would scatter everywhere.
“Aren't dragon corpses super expensive? One tooth alone goes for three gold.”
“Huge money. The antidote factions are fighting over it.”
Extra cash for side gigs was nice. But a serpent dragon would carry top-grade curses, and while I could do some antidote work, I topped out at low or mid-grade.
“Maybe I'll meet Hugo next time.”
The side effects from the strength enhancer I'd used in the duel trial were kicking in, so I took the day off.
A while later, I headed to the Imperial Medical Office basement where the antidote work was underway, but the news wasn't great.
“Hugo got fired?”
One of the healers, sweating bullets as he bound the serpent dragon corpse tight with holy cloth in the underground lab, explained. He was from Heike's faction—Alberich's group. With so many people here, factions split along origins. Being from the Empire, he was relatively friendly toward me.
“Yeah, the faction Hugo was in got disbanded recently. It was under Lord Armin, the eldest grandson of Archbishop Heavenly King Archibald.”
“He got viscount status and went independent not long ago.”
“Right. There was some trouble after that… I don't know the details, but he's been gone a few months.”
“Know where he went?”
“After ten-plus years at the office, he's probably got a house somewhere. Heard he has family.”
“That Hugo? Guy's broke.”
Another passing healer chimed in.
“Healer, what's the story?”
“Oh, Gotberg Doctor. Hugo spent way more on healing fees here than he ever earned. He's drowning in debt.”
“Why would a healer get treated at the Imperial Medical Office?”
“Those black hands of his? Heard he got hurt during antidote work.”
“Right, the hands. Guy couldn't cast healing spells. Blew his whole fortune on his daughter's treatments. Kid was always sick.”
“Daughter, huh.”
I could guess why Hugo hated the Empire. Couldn't properly heal his own family despite a lifetime at the job—just got bled dry.
Turned to black magic after picking up curse knowledge on the job, dreaming of revenge? No employee discounts or workman's comp? Imperial Medical Office, dream workplace.
“Debtors like that have one place to go. Can't dodge inspections, so no leaving the capital. Gotta hide in the slums.”
“Slums. Makes sense I've never seen locals here.”
“No reason for slum-dwellers to come to the office for treatment.”
Medical dead zone.
“Must be crawling with patients.”
“Pr-probably…”
A good idea hit me. I needed to prove the cough syrup's efficacy to the emperor anyway. Lots of data required.
'Got a bunch of drugs I wanna test too.'
It'd help level my stagnating Medicine skill too.
'Can probably lure Hugo out.'
No clue if he'd cooperate, but it'd be a chance to nix a bad ending. Lots to gain.
“Aigoo, it's bursting again!”
“Block it, block it!”
“Oh man, the bishop's gonna chew us out again.”
Black liquid oozed from the serpent dragon's severed neck. Healers hauled fresh holy cloth to wrap the head, grunting with effort.
“If Hugo were here, it'd be done ages ago.”
“Tell me about it. Quits right when we need him. Driving me nuts.”
I watched the antidote spectacle arms crossed, then moved on.
Next stop: Wood Palace. Delivering aspirin and penicillin with Chloe, Heike was very pleased.
“Right on schedule too. Payment to Moonlight Palace.”
“Good. What about the bonus for crushing Earth Palace?”
“Asella and Earth Palace's Second Legion and barracks—split agreed.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Asella being Asella. She'd already snapped up one of the four imperial knight barracks. Heike wasn't checking her yet, so generous concessions in a good way. But one day it'd bite him hard.
“Gotberg, thought about your reward?”
“Grateful if you insist. Nothing grand.”
I paused, then answered.
“I'd like to borrow some healers from Your Highness's faction. Empire natives, about ten.”
“Healers? For what?”
Curious Heike. I replied with a light smile.
“Thinking of a short business trip.”
“Hoo.”
Hugo pocketed his meager daily wage after grueling labor. Most day laborers he worked with were homeless, living hand-to-mouth. The better-off crashed at inns; most slept rough.
Usually, they'd blow wages at taverns. But Hugo had no such luxury.
Needed every coin for healers.
Gloved hands hidden. Beneath, curses infested.
Not one specific curse. Years of antidote work had layered remnants like grime under nails, seeping in mixed.
“…Tch.”
He pushed out divine power, but it blackened from curse influence. Casting like this would just infect patients.
Hugo shoved gloved hands in pockets, quickening his pace toward the capital outskirts, an abandoned lot.
Tents everywhere. Homeless slum-dwellers.
Slums. Just recently from the Imperial Medical Office, now rock bottom.
But his eyes burned clearer, fiercer resolve than ever.
Hugo trudged to a pathetic tent he called home.
“Eri, Daddy's home.”
“Daddyyy…!”
Inside, a five-year-old girl lay bundled in blankets. Her jet-black hair matched his.
“Good while I was gone?”
“Yeah…! Played with Charlie and Max. cough.”
Names of dolls neatly by her pillow. But she'd clearly lain weak all day.
“Eri, up for water.”
“Mmm…”
Hugo slowly fed her from a tiny paper cup. She'd gulp, then cough it up.
'Three months without proper healing.'
Hugo's chest tightened. Eri had been healthy at birth. Weakness and coughs started three years ago.
Was health an illusion? His frail wife died birthing her.
Most frustrating: healer who couldn't heal his daughter.
'Spent everything on her treatments.'
Temporary relief only; she'd worsen fast. Office treatments pricey. Networking for more, he woke to sold house.
Without them, she might be dead.
'Should've kept working.'
Biggest misfortune: wrong faction.
Curse patients rare. Antidote side gig for most healers.
His lord Armin went independent; Hugo wanted to follow. But Armin ditched him over debts.
World ran on money.
'Other factions didn't want me.'
Dumped overnight after lifelong service.
'What imperial grace?'
Hatred for the office and Empire simmered.
Unlikely, but if Eri… it'd be the Empire's fault for failing her.
“cough cough!”
“Eri!”
Helpless, Hugo eased her down, stroking her forehead.
Eri cracked eyes, mumbling with tiny lips.
“Daddyyy…”
“Eri, want anything? Daddy'll get it.”
She shook head.
“Just… stay here…”
Tiny hand clutched his hem. How lonely without him.
Hugo raged at no time to stay.
Then.
“Hey, big guy there?”
Slum-dweller's voice outside. Hugo lifted tent flap.
“Me?”
“Yeah, you. Daughter sick, right?”
“...Yeah.”
“Bring her quick.”
“What's up?”
Resident beckoned excitedly.
“Imperial Medical Office guy's been here a week. Their head doc, even. Treating everyone free. Hurry.”
“Why would the office come here? No pay for patients.”
Hugo scowled skeptically. Resident tsked.
“Sheesh, that naive? Fine, whatever. They give ESP or something good too.”
“Aspirin?”
“Yeah, that. Dunno what.”
Hugo's eyes lit. Heard rumors pre-retirement, pre-tournament.
“Eri, quick outing with Daddy.”
Hugo scooped her blanket and all, dashing to the crowd.
“Diagnosis. Abrasions, mercurochrome. Diagnosis. Ah, cough patient. Just who I wanted. Take this daily, log symptoms. Grab meds and bail, the knight sis'll whoop ya?”
Line snaked before white-coated man. Hugo knew the name. Pre-firing rumors of rising star in Third Princess faction's chief physician.
“Gotberg Doctor!!”
Hugo bellowed. All heads turned, stunned. Only Gotberg smiled satisfied at him.