Chapter 177
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 177
Chapter Title: Kingdom ? Lv. 167 Hardrock Slums (3)
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The name "Northern Hospital District" didn't mean a proper hospital still stood there intact.
It just meant there had once been a hospital, and some of its facilities remained.
But in a slum like this, long since fallen into decay, the mere existence of any undestroyed facilities held significant value.
Only Exiles received the blessing of Healing Potions.
The vast majority of slum residents, who weren't Exiles, had no choice but to rely on quack doctors.
In any case, the [Angel's Tears] guild had taken control of the entire Hospital District.
They'd also seized ownership of the streets bustling with all sorts of medical scams.
Of course, Remy had to make at least one visit, so he headed there.
The low-level Exile gang members, aware their masters had changed, greeted him politely.
They treated him well on the surface, but they wouldn't actually obey orders.
The upstart [Angel's Tears] guild appeared to have unified the district through sheer force in an instant.
But not everything in the world could be that straightforward.
In truth, it was just a bunch of groups gathered under one banner—literally just gathered, nothing more.
Nothing else had changed.
They weren't collecting protection money or skimming profits from businesses.
If they'd tried to actually muscle in on the interests, there would have been backlash, no matter how intimidating Angel was. And things never end cleanly when that happens.
The people of this newly claimed medical district eyed the nervously walking mage and his flanking companions with unease.
These folks had some ties to the old organizations one way or another, so they knew what had gone down.
The reason for patrolling here specifically was probably to gauge public sentiment.
"The stares aimed at mages aren't great here either."
"From what we've investigated, it's been less than ten years since their last war with the mages' homeland, [Arcane]."
"Direct grudge. Perfect."
The angel played the role of a prim secretary. It was to establish Remy as the nominal boss.
The youngest did the same, acting as a stoic brute.
But this time, he didn't scowl. He wore a faint smile, drawing eyes with his massive frame.
Though called a medical district, it wasn't like the doctors you'd imagine from modern Earth.
It was a filthy slum street where they sterilized needles by heating them over fire and reused them.
Still, getting treatment here was better than just dying.
As they walked, countless shacks sported makeshift signs.
No specialties like ENT or anything, but they listed treatable body parts in their own way.
It had been ages since he'd seen writing like this.
Inevitably, English users were the most common. Crude scrawls in short English caught the eye, just enough to make out.
The Babel Tower somewhere in the Labyrinth granted freedom with languages but not writing.
The groans of the sick and dying echoed from everywhere.
The deathly aura thickened the further they went.
Without Healing Potions that meant nothing to Exiles, people suffered like this.
That was why simply being an Exile let you hold your head high here.
At least they could carry spring water with them.
Most residents here were NPCs in the derogatory sense, barred from the inner Hardrock city beyond that fenced spring.
At the end of their walk stood a massive building that had once been a general hospital.
The heart of the district, you could call it downtown.
Somehow they'd scrounged up a magic engine for power; compared to the surrounding mess, it even had lights and looked tidy.
In the director's office inside waited an elderly man with hoary white hair.
Wearing cracked old glasses, he was unmistakably an Exile at a glance.
In the Kingdom of Exiles, bizarre clothing and architecture from all eras were the norm.
This man stood out sharply with his plausible white coat and stethoscope, evoking a modern doctor.
The scent of the outside world.
"What business do you have with this old man?"
The investigation was already complete.
Even in a place like this, some Exiles clung to their last shred of conscience or the Hippocratic Oath they'd sworn as doctors.
This old man was one such case.
Remy quietly recited what he knew.
"Representative of the Hospital District, commonly called Director. You commute between the spring and slums hundreds of times a day healing the injured, fell out of favor with the gangs, got banned from the city proper. You've lost all status as an Exile in Hardrock and now save lives with your medical skills alone."
"Reading the report right in front of me, eh? I don't trade in lives, so there's no tax for you to collect from me."
A gutsy old man. Killing him gained nothing but cost plenty. He'd been an Exile long enough not to be weak, from what they'd heard.
He was a warrior to begin with. The type who'd dumped all his points into strength and agility for surgery.
Remy chuckled at the director's response and glanced around.
The building was relatively intact but worn to hell.
Repair marks dotted everywhere. The skeleton alone might be centuries old.
The youngest quietly extended a finger. Remy gently placed his hand on it.
The goddess speaks.
「This was a hospital for non-Exiles even before I became a god. The building from back then may have crumbled away, but the location's the same.」
‘Perfect for turning into a temple, given our strategy.’
「Exactly.」
The youngest, who'd heard it all, still wore that smile.
They'd rested plenty during that time. But most had been minimal, out of concern for non-combat losses.
No lounging around procrastinating when there was work to do.
For me personally, it had happened twice in this Run—not even in the past few decades.
When I'd met a gamer NPC.
When a fact I'd ignored was shoved in my face.
Confirming the Earth they lived on was utterly different from mine had broken me.
I might've been looking for an excuse to crumble.
My past days had been filled with obsession and the madness it bred. Saying I wasn't exhausted would be a lie. Living like that wears you down.
Just recently, in front of the Temple of Time, I'd thought to change what sustained me.
The chit-chat since had felt unfamiliar but better than imagined.
The habit of checking the timer lingered. But the anxiety from the dwindling time had eased greatly.
I still hoped for a clear.
But not to verify my existence or out of gamer stubbornness.
For Hiu...
To find a clue to her freedom.
What was liberation from the Labyrinth?
It had never been implemented in-game.
Because the game ends at that point.
Roguelike endings don't even allow an epilogue line.
Probably not even in the planners' heads.
Now, I had to explore it.
"By reversely utilizing the vibrations from uneven mana flow..."
The kid mumbling to herself was adorable.
Honestly, my initial impression had been shell-deep.
I'd always been busy, fabricating emotions as needed.
But with a week of idleness, even that impression shifted dramatically.
Hiu was right.
I'd lived in a colorless world.
And after so long, I'd forgotten what colors the world held.
Now, it felt like I could genuinely feel emotions for someone, not some squeezed-out mechanical sentiment.
Like a dry well refilling.
The kid really was cute.
Just staring blankly made me feel good.
The kid clutched her small head with both hands and spoke.
"Imparting vibrations to the mana flow boosts power. But I can't seem to control it properly."
"You don't have to think of it that way. Dogmatically concluding is the worst thing in magic. Magic is mental, influenced by the caster's will."
"So, when casting, think 'omnipotent!' like that?"
"It means nothing if you don't truly believe it. Best to visualize it. Imagining a divine being works too. You thought deities were amazing studying them yesterday? Like 'I've become a deity'."
"Aha. I'll try."
Magic studies were going smoothly.
No, they couldn't not be. Only now, with some leisure, could I properly see the kid's talent.
She performed mana sight flawlessly.
So sensitive to mana flow, no separate teaching needed.
Precision like she'd always seen mana.
Even random NPCs on her level hadn't matched this, so I was thrilled.
Might be Hiu's blessing too.
As for gacha pulls, some force bounced them high and low, never middling.
The kid, muttering 'deity, deity' to herself, suddenly looked up and said quietly.
"Is Mom related to the Goddess of Luck?"
"Inferring that from my explanation? Sharp as a tack."
I ruffled her hair vigorously.
"I don't know much either. Few can claim deep knowledge of deities. Especially Luck."
Deities ultimately governed the Labyrinth's foundations.
The abyss shedding fragments across countless stages, time resetting Exiles each Run, and roguelike's key element: luck.
Luck was the hardest.
Closest to the essence, maybe. Truly no clues. You learn of it only through ties to other deities.
But inversely, its vacancy was luck.
The planner left it blank on purpose. If a Goddess of Luck had a role...
That would be something I didn't know.
Another mystery to solve.
I started burning with a different fire.
Still unknowns left.
The initial spark for Hiu on Floor 2, now vital motivation.
And the worrywart herself sat beside me, eyes closed in meditation.
That was training too.
The Jeong Family came with wuxia-style settings, so Hiu was familiar.
Difference from outside: instead of qi manipulating muscles, clear targets like mana and holy power.
Angels filtered mana into holy power with their bodies, of course.
But sometimes leaving it as mana was necessary.
Some foes were immune to holy; no countering that.
White flames flared and shrank repeatedly.
She picked up the physical side too easily, so more time on techniques absent outside.
Amid that, I subtly activated [Time Stop].
World time halted briefly.
Colors drained slightly. Monochrome space.
About 10 seconds by my clock, the kid—frozen kneading gathered mana—reacted.
Luster returned to her silver hair fading to gray haze.
Her red eyes gleamed with joy.
"Faster this time, right?"
"Yeah, you're doing great."
[Time Stop] seemed absolute but surprisingly many could wield it.
Detecting and slipping in required training.
As time neared resumption, Hiu entered my time.
No golden glow. Pure self-awareness, independent of Time God's authority.
"Good job."
"Doesn't feel like it..."
She frowned at the resuming flow.
"Sigh, why's this so hard?"
"It's supposed to be. Especially for non-mages. But you're doing amazingly."
"Yeah!"
The kid, learning faster than anyone, made Hiu more downcast.
Realizing her cheer backfired, the kid fidgeted.
Seeing it, Hiu beamed, slipping on the gloves the kid had made and gifted.
She pinched her cheeks.
"Eek. Ouch."
"So squishy. Cute."
Holy wouldn't burn undead, but this looked like an angel toying with a vampire.
Letting the play go on a bit, I told the kid.
"Ready to learn some dagger work then?"
"Ugh..."
Mages couldn't neglect melee entirely.
Sometimes a hidden dagger was faster and stronger than chanting.
Plus, in this country, she needed to pass as a warrior.
Couldn't use the kid as bait like Remy.
"I hate daggers."
"Nobody likes what they're bad at. Everyone's the same. But keep at it?"
Lip pursed, she nodded.
She picked up a dagger fitting her small frame. Proportions made it a one-hander for her build.
"Once you're used to it, I'll teach enchanting blades. Magic swordsman stuff."
"Magic? Practical, so worth learning?"
"More than you think. Not used due to bias and weapon proficiency, not power."
Mastery bonuses existed, but as a non-Exile, she had none.
Still, she bit the carrot, grinning. Forgot dagger gripes thinking of future magic.
Always like this when magic came up.
"I can teach dagger too!"
Hiu chimed in whinily.
"Uh, can't learn that..."
"Not for normals, huh?"
"Hiiing..."
Me being able to mimic was the oddity. Hiu's was joint tricks from weird dagger arts.
As that day's session wrapped, an owl arrived.
Letter in English.
From dear Mr. Meyer: disguise identity prepped, Hardrock [Lift] permit granted.
P.S.: Careful hope to meet again.
Not official allies, but fostering similar ties was needed.
Last time brusque; this time, kinder words.