Chapter 116
Chapter 116
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 116
Chapter Title: Salvation to Those Who Believe (2)
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With all the issues resolved, the church's hospital business got off to a smooth start.
The name of the newly completed hospital was Eleos Medical Center.
Eleos.
It was an ancient Greek word from the original text of the New Testament, meaning mercy or compassion.
I thought it was a fitting name for the Radiance Church's medical facility.
In the midst of that busy routine, a few weeks flew by, and the hospital was finally complete.
"Wow....!"
I couldn't hold back my exclamation upon seeing it in person for the first time.
In the densely packed urban heart of Omega Detroit,
amid the tightly clustered buildings, one structure stood out on an unusually spacious plot of land.
A sleek, massive hospital ward with pristine white exterior walls typical of new construction and sky-blue windows.
It was a state-of-the-art facility complete with mid-level and rooftop landing pads for emergency helicopters and aerial vehicles.
Through the transparent floor-to-ceiling glass, I could glimpse the clean interior facilities bathed in bright lights.
'This is it....'
The hospital of our Radiance Church, established after so many twists and turns.
As I cautiously entered through the main gate... the lobby appeared, bustling with crowds.
I'd heard it had only been open for business a few days, but the reception desk was already packed with no room to spare.
I was a bit surprised inside at the sight.
'This many....'
And we hadn't even done any real promotion.
Yet all these people were flocking here.
'It must mean the city's medical demand is that overwhelming.'
High hospital bills due to insurance monopolies were one issue, but the absolute supply was woefully inadequate.
In a guaranteed monopoly market, more doctors just meant more lobbying targets.
From the insurers' perspective, who controlled the medical sector, there was no need to expand supply.
As a result, the city's residents had no choice but to book appointments weeks in advance even if they felt like they were dying, and if their condition worsened in the meantime, they'd face even pricier treatments.
They endured abysmal service, paid absurd amounts, and still faced endless waits.
That pent-up demand was now surging into our hospital without any fanfare.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 'That....'
Leo, a resident of the outskirts, stared blankly at the new building as he passed by.
The construction site that had been buzzing for weeks.
He'd figured it was some shopping mall given the scale....
But what stood finished was a massive general hospital, the kind you'd expect in the city center.
So Leo couldn't hide his bewilderment.
'Why build something like that all the way out here?'
It made no sense.
There weren't customers around here who could afford treatment at a place like that.
To common folk like him, it was nothing but pie in the sky.
But lately, something odd kept catching his eye as he passed.
Among the people coming and going through the hospital's main entrance, quite a few were dressed in shabby clothes just like him.
And unbelievably, their faces were beaming.
'What the hell?'
Curiosity suddenly welled up in Leo at that very moment.
"Ugh....!"
Pain surged from his left hand.
He rolled up his sleeve, and the skin connected to his outdated prosthetic implant was red, swollen, and festering.
"......"
Three years ago, a factory automation cutting drone malfunctioned.
The safety protocols had been disabled by the manager to meet production quotas.
As a result, the drone's plasma cutter sliced off Leo's left arm from the shoulder down.
But the manager, backed by the company, didn't process it as a workplace injury—instead, he just notified Leo that he'd be fired if he couldn't work starting tomorrow.
How hard had it been to land that job in the first place?
He couldn't afford to lose his livelihood over one arm.
So Leo ended up borrowing from a loan shark in a hurry and heading to a back-alley illegal modder.
On a procedure table that hadn't even been properly sterilized, he got that cheap prosthetic implanted.
The problem was how often those modders performed risky procedures based on unverified illegal cloned medical data. Complications were far more common too.
And sure enough, side effects hit Leo.
The connection site festered worse over time.
Pain became his daily life from then on.
He'd endured the throbbing—escalating to nerve-searing agony—with strong painkillers, but now he was truly at his limit.
"Kuh....!"
As he gritted through the pain today, sweating coldly,
he caught sight of a mother and daughter in shabby clothes brushing past him.
The child, holding her mother's hand, asked,
"Mom, does your leg not hurt anymore?"
"Nope, not one bit. Wanna go for a walk after your checkup?"
Their faces bore a serene smile that Leo hadn't seen in ages.
"......"
Leo stared blankly at them,
then followed them into the hospital like he was entranced.
Silent automatic doors. A lobby as pristine as a luxury hotel.
Just crossing that threshold made his heart pound. It felt like stepping into a world where he didn't belong.
Leo wanted to turn tail and run, but the pain from his left arm held him back.
Steeling himself again, he entered the hospital.
'Yeah, if I tighten my belt for a few months, I can make it work.'
He could think that because there were plenty of people inside dressed even shabbier than him.
They didn't fit in this clean space either, but no one chased them out.
Emboldened, Leo cautiously approached the reception desk.
"First time here? What's troubling you?"
"Uh, my left arm...."
The receptionist scanned his inflamed arm with her ocular implant and replied kindly.
"You can see the doctor today."
Leo doubted his ears and asked again.
"....Pardon? Today? I didn't even make an appointment...?"
Lucky break, he thought. Even so, he braced for hours of waiting in the lobby, but it was under ten minutes.
His name was called before he knew it, and he was ushered into the exam room in a daze.
Moments later, the doctor across from him clicked his tongue at the swollen red arm.
"The inflammation's severe. You've neglected it far too long."
The tone held a hint of reproach, but the treatment that followed was swift and precise.
Disinfectants, a few injections, and prosthetic recalibration.
Leo watched in a surreal haze as cutting-edge medical equipment he'd never seen before serviced his junky old prosthetic. The machines alone probably cost hundreds or thousands of times more than his arm.
And those expensive machines earned their keep.
The excruciating pain vanished like a lie, leaving Leo stunned.
As he left the treatment room, glancing at the already subsiding swelling... he thought,
'Should've come sooner.'
But in Omega Detroit hospitals, the real terror wasn't surgery or needles.
His steps grew much heavier heading to the automated checkout.
"....."
Maybe he shouldn't have come.
Could someone without insurance afford treatment at this amazing place?
He might have to sell everything he owned and drown in even suffocating debt.
Trembling with worry, Leo raised his hand at the automated checkout to request the electronic bill.
".....?"
But the payment request that popped up was far beyond his expectations.
Not too expensive—shockingly cheap, in fact.
Worried it was a mistake, Leo adjusted the machine to call a staff member.
"Um, this.... I think there's a calculation error."
But the response came in a businesslike tone, as if she'd said it hundreds of times.
["No, that's the correct bill for you, sir."]
"......."
A week had passed since that reply.
Leo checked his messages obsessively every day after leaving the hospital.
He feared a system glitch would send a bill with way more zeros someday.
But no such disaster occurred.
All he felt was the pain steadily fading day by day.
'What the....?'
It wasn't even some scam.
He could feel the treatment's effects vividly in his own body.
So he was just left dumbfounded.
He still didn't get it, but pain-free days were a blessing.
Having reclaimed normal life once, he'd never go back to those festering days, not even for death.
So today, Leo made his second visit to Eleos Medical Center.
The doctor from before had told him to return for follow-up observation.
Hospitals used to be a last resort for someone like Leo, right before keeling over.
But now his thinking had shifted a bit.
Still, that heart-pounding thrill crossing the pristine automatic doors never got any easier.
"....."
Buzz of voices—
Something felt off, though.
The hospital's atmosphere was different from a week ago.
The lobby was packed to the gills, like every sick person in the city had converged here.
A sign even read [Today's new registrations closed] off to the side.
Yet the hospital ran on its own efficient system.
Critical cases were triaged and rushed inside ahead of others.
That much made sense.
The patient surge since then... well, thinking back to his own bill, it wasn't surprising at all.
But it was a little odd seeing some folks who didn't look that sick—people with the same shabby vibe as everyone waiting—flash something at reception and get whisked straight to exam rooms without delay.
So Leo asked a passing staff member.
"Excuse me, why did those people just go right in?"
The staffer answered as if it were the most obvious thing.
"Oh, they're Radiance Church believers. Eleos Medical is a facility run by the Radiance Church."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The newly launched church hospital was booming.
But I didn't get complacent about it.
'Not every patient we treat will convert right away.'
It had been the same during past charity work outside the city.
Slum dwellers appreciated the free bread, but it rarely led to instant faith.
Only after repeated help over time did they open up and visit the chapel.
It made sense. Embracing faith in a god they'd never heard of wasn't easy.
So this medical venture was a long-term plan: plant seeds of gratitude and goodwill toward the church, let it seep into daily life gradually.
But....
"What? Already?"
The priest's report caught me off guard.
"So many people have applied to attend mass that we're at risk of not being able to hold services at all."
Current chapels in the city couldn't handle it; we urgently needed new buildings.
Of course, new nominal believers registering with the church wasn't strange.
'We do have priority policies for believers at the hospital.'
Register as a believer by donating a set amount monthly or a share of income—it was basically insurance.
It helped offset the hospital's massive operating deficits too.
So sure, nominal believers signing up for medical perks was expected.
Even if they didn't truly believe yet, affiliating them with the church and gradually converting them was the plan from the start.
But the report that even the number of 'real believers' actively attending services had surged far beyond expectations—enough to cause issues—was unexpected.
"......."
Was it déjà vu, or just my imagination?
Thinking back, something similar happened outside the city.
Curiosity and contrarianism sparked more explosive interest than anticipated.
But this was different. If it were mere curiosity, it would've happened from the first chapel opening.
And if it was just for hospital perks, they wouldn't need to attend mass.
A set donation secured believer status and benefits, like insurance.
"......"
It's not a bad thing, really.
'No, definitely not a bad outcome....'
Why did my plans never go exactly as scripted? They always veered off.
Every future blueprint I'd carefully laid out got bulldozed, leaving me scrambling with immediate fixes.
It was a perennial headache.
'What's the issue this time?'