The Clinic Opens for Business
The Imperial Capital.
The great city, Grandia.
An urgent report arrived at the Administrative Office, where thousands of officials resided. Under normal circumstances, it would have taken two months to arrive, but Aiden had dug deep into his pockets to pay for the use of the Magic Tower’s network.
“Where did you say this came from? The North?”
“Yes. It’s a letter sent from there, but…”
The middle-aged official, a man with a gaunt frame and a somewhat neurotic expression, was responsible for assessing the importance of news arriving from the north of the capital. It was a form of traffic control: he sent important matters to his superiors and trivial ones to the lower departments. He was a very ordinary central administrator.
Which is to say,
“Are they asking for money?”
It meant he harbored a deep-seated prejudice against the North.
“That’s not it.”
“Then?”
“They say a trend has emerged among the Northern residents where they are creating their own surnames to attach to their names, and some minority groups are showing interest in it. The details are right here—”
“Ah, forget it. Why bother me with such nonsense?”
“Shouldn’t you at least verify it?”
“How many people even live up there? Forget it. Stop wasting time on useless things and hurry up and figure out the power dynamics between the princes. If we pick the wrong side, both your head and mine will be rolling on the floor.”
“But there is news that even the healer Lapisha has announced she will create her own surname—”
“Who? Lapisha?”
“Yes. You know, the one they call the ‘White Warrior’.”
“‘White Warrior,’ my foot. ‘Mud-caked woman’ would suit her much better.”
A man who looked down on the North would hardly spare other regions from his contempt. The official had no intention of hiding his disdain and scorn for the desert tribes with their bronze skin. Even if someone was a famous figure,
‘In the end, she’s just a nobody from a desert tribe. Hmph!’
He scoffed, looking for any way to belittle her.
“It’s a disaster! Count Biyoten has officially declared his support for the Second Prince!”
“What? Damn it! This is an emergency, get me the map!”
As it happened, the timing was turning out quite favorably for the North. The officials in the capital currently lacked the bandwidth to pay attention to minor trends in the Northern territory. With the power struggle for the Crown Prince position between the First and Second Princes now fully ignited, the central political scene was too busy walking on eggshells to notice anything else. While the nobles and officials alike agonized over which side to back to ensure they ended up on the winning team, the letter from the North was filed away into the dusty warehouse of the Administrative Office.
“The answer?”
“It says… ‘Confirmed’.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
Aiden received the official document from the center with a look of absurdity on his face. The document truly contained only those four characters: ‘Confirmed’.
‘They used the Magic Tower just to send this?’
Must be nice to have money to burn. I’m jealous.
“Keep that safe. If any problems arise later, we’ll need to shove it in their faces immediately.”
In almost all lines of work, not just civil service, the chain of responsibility must be clear. If there’s even a slight chance of trouble, you have to prepare like this in advance so you don’t end up getting backstabbed and drinking cheap soju alone in the dark later.
“Then, would you like to meet Lapisha?”
“Hm? Did she request a meeting?”
“That’s not the case, but…”
“Then why bother?”
“Well, there are rumors that she’s looking for land to build a mansion and a clinic, so wouldn’t it be better to meet her at least once?”
Aiden wondered if it was really necessary for a civil servant to go out of his way to visit just because a famous person had moved in.
‘It’s not like I can use her for PR.’
In the 21st century, if a celebrity came to a rural town, you could spread the word through the internet and magazines to enjoy the promotional effects. But here in the North, where there wasn’t a single journalist to be found, who would he be promoting to, and how?
“Wouldn’t it be a good thing for our residents if Lapisha’s clinic were established here?”
“That’s true, but… no, forget it. If I go out of my way to show up, won’t it just look like I’m putting pressure on her? Let’s just give her some tax benefits later once the clinic is actually built.”
“I will convey that to the relevant department.”
Roland had now more or less grasped Aiden’s personality. If it were any other regional lord, they would have already visited a dozen times to annoy such a famous person, trying to forge a connection. Especially in a region where neither the Magic Tower nor the temples were easily accessible, a skilled healer was often treated with the same respect as a noble.
“Why? Do you have more to say?”
“No, sir.”
However, this peculiar superior he had come to serve was far, far different from other lords.
‘He really doesn’t try to build friendships with influential people.’
Typical lords left all the work to their adjutants and threw themselves into social events. Roland didn’t think it was wrong.
‘Because there are clear benefits to be gained from social events.’
It was a kind of noble cartel. They funneled interests to their friends, shared profitable ventures, or acted as each other’s allies. But,
- “Talking about work at a party? I’m the kind of person who gets neurosis just from hearing about policy decisions being overturned during company dinners or smoke breaks. If that’s how it’s going to be, why do we even hold meetings?”
Roland had been silenced by his superior’s words, spoken through gritted teeth, warning him never to bring up such things again.
“More importantly, with this snow falling constantly, is it going to be okay?”
“It’s winter, sir.”
Jamie replied as if it were nothing.
“There are regions where it doesn’t snow in winter.”
“Ayyy—”
“Have you only lived your life being deceived?”
“Even if it’s not every day, where is there a place that doesn’t get any snow at all?”
“The South doesn’t get snow.”
“...Really?”
“Yes.”
“But, Administrative Officer, you aren’t from the South.”
“······.”
Aiden, who was never at a loss for words, had lost an argument for the first time in a while.
‘I can’t exactly tell him about the South of the Republic of Korea instead of the South of the Empire just to win an argument.’
Slurp.
The tea, warmed with honey, dried flowers, and fruit, heated his body. It was snowing outside, and the office was warm; it had a certain charm to it.
“Maybe it’s because of the snow. It’s strangely quiet. Even the market isn’t as lively as it used to be.”
“Further north, there are regions where it snows so much that travel is almost impossible.”
“The Myo tribe must be having a hard time.”
“They’ve been catching giant rats and making sleds out of them to ride around.”
“······?”
“They’re actually quite fast.”
Aiden was no longer surprised by things of this magnitude. Thinking of the Myo tribe, who tied giant rat monsters to ropes and rode them like dog sleds to deliver packages, he felt that things like isekai reincarnation trucks were much more plausible.
“Oh, right. About that ‘Udegi’ thing.”
“Yes?”
“The response is quite good. On days when the snow piles up to the knees, young children or the elderly couldn’t even move outside their homes, but since they can at least get out in front of their houses now, it seems much better.”
“What about the livestock?”
“We’ll have to see after this winter passes, but it does seem like the number of animals freezing to death has decreased significantly.”
“When people get bored, gambling naturally tends to flourish. Keep up the patrols. You have to nip that in the bud.”
“Even without that, I’ve heard there are many residents playing dice games lately.”
“Isn’t that gambling?”
Since it was a game you could play anywhere with just two dice, it was easy for it to spread.
“People often played it when they gathered in winter, but since they have a little more money now, it often escalates into gambling. The patrolling soldiers are paying as much attention as they can, but it seems a bit difficult to root it out completely.”
“Damn.”
During the off-season, the problem of rural gambling was often serious across all times and places. It was fundamentally caused by a lack of entertainment. With plenty of time and nothing to do, they would gather in small groups to gamble. It seemed he would have to try making and distributing a few board games next time.
‘Cards or Hwatu are absolutely out of the question.’
Distributing those would only encourage professional gambling dens. What would be good?
Aiden only knew board games like *Blue Marble*, so he would have to rack his brain a bit more for this.
“It might be difficult to distribute toys right away, but it seems relatively easy to provide some work for the residents who are dying of boredom. What do you think?”
“Work, sir?”
“Yes.”
“For example?”
“It’s snowing.”
Aiden pointed out the window with his finger. Snowflakes the size of a child’s fist were falling heavily again.
“They should clear it.”
If they spend all day shoveling snow before heading home, they won’t even have the energy to think about gambling.
Swish, swish.
“Ugh, this snow! It’s exhausting, absolutely exhausting!”
“Only the kids are having fun, I suppose.”
An official document from the Lord’s Castle was distributed to every village. It was an order to clear the snow in front of their homes and on public roads cleanly and to maintain them as much as possible. Some residents pouted, grumbling, “It’s just going to snow again anyway,” but the word was that as soon as the village chief shouted, “If the village roads aren’t cleared, the mail carriage won’t come in!” they all hurried to grab their brooms.
“Mr. Cat, can’t you give me a ride too? Just once!”
“What should I do… Fine, meow! Get on, meow!”
“Yay!”
The Myo tribe’s mail carriage and rat sleds raced along the paths cleared by the village adults. The children rode the rat sleds, circling the village and immersing themselves in their role as part-time mail delivery assistants, while the adults couldn’t help but double over with laughter at the sight.
“The more I see it, the more peculiar this town is.”
The woman watching the scene from the highest, best room of the inn smiled faintly. Lapisha.
Wasn’t this a place where you could feel peace just by watching?
“I never imagined it would be like this.”
“Indeed.”
“Has the land for the clinic been decided?”
“Yes. However, it’s difficult to start now because there’s too much snow. They say we’ll have to wait until spring.”
“That can’t be helped.”
The middle-aged woman with bronze skin clicked her tongue once and returned her gaze to the scenery outside the window. The Northern cold was still difficult to adapt to, but the sound of people’s laughter outside somehow seemed to evoke memories of her homeland. Her desert homeland, which had now vanished.
“I never imagined there would be Myo tribe members here.”
“I asked the residents, and they said there’s a separate village where the Myo tribe lives.”
“Really? They recognized a village of beastkin?”
“I think the acting lord here is a rather peculiar person.”
“I suppose so.”
“Seeing as he hasn’t even shown his face since you arrived, he seems rude, but if he’s someone who recognizes a beastkin village, he also seems generous.”
“Japa.”
“Yes?”
“Call me Japa.”
“Ah, yes! Japa!”
The woman, who had finally found the tribe’s surname she had dreamed of her entire life, repeated her name in her mouth several times before nodding as if she had made a decision.
“Go and ask the innkeeper. See if we can use one of the guest rooms as a temporary clinic.”
“Pardon? Are you going to start seeing patients right away?”
“This is the place that helped me reclaim my surname. I should show at least this much sincerity.”
And then, as she sipped her tea again, her gaze turned back outside.
“The snow seems to have a lot of moisture in it. There will likely be quite a few frostbite patients this winter.”
Northern Clinic No. 1.
Opening, success!