Chapter 159
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 159
Chapter Title: Clinic
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Adventurers sometimes stumble upon valuable items while exploring the Labyrinth.
They might find byproducts from rare monsters, gear from deceased adventurers, artifacts from ruins, or, with slim odds, skill stones dropped by monsters.
So how do those adventurers dispose of such treasures?
"Welcome. To the Labyrinth Auction House."
That's right—this is it. The Labyrinth Auction House, run by one of the committee's nine seats, the famed 'Golden King' Maidersa. A place where countless relics unearthed from the Labyrinth, along with masterpieces from skilled artisans and alchemists, go up for bid.
Even before Miranda mentioned it, I'd been planning to visit the auction house once my Labyrinth run wrapped up.
'I've got money piled up now.'
I'd won the tournament before and pocketed 300 gold coins as prize money. Back then, I planned to spend it all on gear, but I supplied the materials myself, and Miranda didn't charge extra crafting fees, so plenty was left over.
I toyed with the idea of blowing the rest at a brothel, but once Alensia learned I had some savings, she suggested something else.
"If you've got spare coin, how about buying an elixir?"
"An elixir?"
"Yeah. Your skills, swordsmanship included, have grown remarkably, but your mana hasn't kept pace. Something to boost your mana pool would be ideal."
That's when Alensia recommended the auction house as the place to snag one. Elixirs lose potency with repeated use, and since she'd already consumed her fill, she had none stockpiled and advised hunting for one at auction.
"Of course, if you want, I'll buy it with my money. Let's go together later."
"...We'll see."
I couldn't bring myself to flatly refuse her offer back then. Apparently, a decent mana elixir runs about 500 gold coins.
With my 300 gold from the tournament winnings tucked away, plus 250 more from offloading all those relic armors to Miranda this time, and some pocket change on top, I've got over 600 gold coins. Enough for an elixir without Alensia's help.
And on top of that...
"This... it's a skill stone. You've brought us a rare item."
Selling the [Necromancy] skill stone I have no use for should cover any shortfall. Skill stones start at 1 platinum coin—1,000 gold—regardless of the skill. I even registered that greatsword I won't be using.
The real surprise was...
"Ho! This statue... such an unusual style I've never seen anywhere. And the rarity of it coming from a Labyrinth ruin..."
The statues I found in the ruins were appraised highly and entered into the auction too. They might prove useful later for piecing together connections between the Labyrinth and Earth, so I only listed a few pristine ones and kept the lesser pieces for myself.
"The auction will be held in two days. We hope you'll grace us with your presence..."
Of course, registering items doesn't start the auction immediately. They told me to come back in two days. Stepping out, I realized I had awkward time on my hands.
'Now what?'
I was already out, and heading back to the mansion felt pointless with nothing to do there. But starting something new with dinner so close? Nah.
'...Maybe hit the brothel.'
Thinking about it, I don't have any real hobbies besides that. Should I pick one up? Can't even train with this arm injury. And with the auction spending unknown, I'd rather save my coin for now. Hmm...
"Ow!"
"You okay? You're bleeding... Let's go to the temple."
"Yeah, no. Why go that far?"
While mulling over where to go, I spotted one of the kids playing nearby take a tumble. Their knee was scraped bad, blood pouring out. I jolted to help, but the kid didn't cry—just calmly checked the wound and brushed off a friend's suggestion to head to the temple.
'So mature.'
At that age, I'd wail at the sight of blood and drag my parents to the hospital. Is it because they're from this world? Still, like the kid said, for a scrape that minor, no need for the temple—a basic potion or clinic visit would do...
'Clinic...'
...Come to think of it, this auction house isn't far from the clinic where I used to work.
'...Maybe swing by.'
Watching the kids sparked memories of my old clinic. It's not like it's across the city—just inside Labyrinth City. Yet in over half a year as an adventurer, I'd never dropped in to say hi.
'No, I've been avoiding it.'
Not long ago, while drinking with Miranda, I'd confessed a bit: how I kept diving deeper into the Labyrinth to escape memories of treading water back then.
And that clinic? It's the very mark of those three years standing still. No wonder I'd subconsciously steered clear.
"Still, a proper goodbye's in order."
I still remember Priest Jeffrey handing me that polished sword when I left the clinic. I'd said farewell like I was gone forever, which nags at me a bit. But at least I can let him know I'm alive and well.
As the saying goes, grasp the bull by the horns. I grabbed a fruit basket from a nearby vendor and made my way slowly to the clinic where I'd worked.
The once-unfamiliar streetscape faded, replaced by familiar building arrangements as I walked.
That bakery with the tasty cream buns. The butcher shop that often slipped us free meat for the clinic. The flower shop that gave us blooms to display...
'Nothing's changed.'
Not that half a year would change much. I'd pop into the clinic, then say hi to the other shop owners I'd missed...
—Murmur murmur.
'...?'
Priest Jeffrey from my clinic days was a paragon of character without flaw. But even he had one shortcoming.
His faint divine power. Despite years tending patients, his holy power remained weak. So the clinic relied on low-grade potions, holy water, and primitive herbal remedies he mixed himself—not proper divine healing.
That meant patients were mostly local kids with playground scrapes or folks with minor colds and bottom-tier curses...
'It's packed...?'
Unlike the clinic I remembered, it was bustling inside. Not with injured kids, but sturdy adults receiving treatment. Through the window, I saw Priest Jeffrey hustling about.
"Priest!"
Catching sight of that welcome figure, I called out loudly and strode in energetically. He startled while tending patients and looked my way.
"Ian?"
"Priest. I'm back..."
"Oh, Ian! Perfect timing! Help me out."
"...Pardon?"
I'd hoped for a heartfelt reunion, but he beamed like I'd answered his prayers, shoving a syringe, bandages, and supplies into my arms.
"First, change the bandages in Room 2."
"...Got it."
Patients over sentiment. I answered blankly, then chuckled softly.
That's him, alright.
Half a year away, but three years on the job made me a pro. I flawlessly backed Priest Jeffrey up—fetching herbs from storage as he called, restraining rowdy patients, wrapping bandages in his stead...
'But... these patients...'
Helping examine them, I noticed all the patients shared eerily similar conditions. Familiar ones, at that.
"Ugh..."
'These symptoms... just like the ones at the temple?'
If anything, these seemed milder than the temple cases. They had occasional fits but weren't berserk, pupils dilated and drooling but still conscious.
Priest Jeffrey fetched a bulk batch of herbs from storage, mixed them up, and fed it to a patient.
"Here, swallow it down easy."
"Urk..."
The patient coughed after gulping the concoction, then visibly improved and drifted off to sleep.
'...What?'
I gawked. Were these different from the temple patients? Priests there poured holy power to no avail, yet a cheap herbal mix here showed progress?
I waited blankly as he dosed everyone, then urgently asked about the patients.
"Oh, them? Lately, more folks showing these symptoms. Some contagion maybe... My holy power couldn't touch it, so I've been treating with herbs."
...Did he not realize what he'd done? These matched the temple cases—untreated by holy power or potions. Yet he'd cracked it with a simple herb blend?
"Started with fever reducers and sedatives mixed together... Worked wonders. Word spread, patients flooded in. Perfect timing with you here, Ian. Good to see you hale."
"Ah, yeah..."
Ignoring my grave pondering, he approached with a kindly smile once the rush eased.
...Whatever. No need to overthink now. Treating patients isn't odd.
I set worries aside, grinned wide, and hugged him. Half a year felt like ages; I had so much to say.
Should've visited sooner.
"That place? That tiny clinic?"
"Gotta be. Only one around here."
"They made the 'Angel Dust' neutralizer in a speck like that?"
"Dunno. We just do our job. They're all dying old folks anyway—easy to pass off as natural causes."