How Does This Thing Work?
‘What the hell? Who’s this guy?’
Every eye in the adventurer’s guild was fixed on Walter, but right next to our table, a burly man in his forties wearing a robe stood staring down at me blankly.
“Ah, I apologize for the late introduction! I’m Elvin, a mage from the Wind Tower.”
Wind Tower? A mage? One of those guys who terrify people and chop off limbs?
They say magic towers are named after their characteristics or the tower lord’s tendencies... so why Wind?
Elvin gave off the impression of a scholar, with just a hint that his body hidden under the robe was fairly sturdy.
“I’m Miner, director of the Beauty Tower. Sorry I didn’t recognize you sooner.”
“Haha, no need. I hope I didn’t offend by approaching out of the blue. Mind if I join you for a bit?”
“Of course.”
The sudden appearance of a mage was a little disorienting, sure. But ever since arriving here, I’d been curious about my fellow “doctors”—or rather, the ones more commonly called mages.
“You don’t seem like a mage yourself, Lady... but the Beauty Tower must hold great pride. Calling it the continent’s finest hospital and all.”
“Ahaha... yeah.”
Elvin smiled kindly, but knowing he was a mage, Cache looked a bit tense. Res had burrowed into my clothes and was shivering even harder.
“Sorry about that, Mr. Elvin. That was something I told my staff to say. We’re far from the continent’s best yet.”
“Haha, no need for such humility. The rumors say you perform some amazing treatments.”
“You flatter me.”
Elvin continued with the gentle smile of a schoolteacher.
“Since we’ve crossed paths like this, why not visit our tower sometime?”
“Ah, sure! Thanks for the invite.”
“Hahaha, glad you’re open to it. You’re here for a meal, right? How about stopping by after?”
What? This wasn’t a chance encounter? Inviting me just like that?
But curiosity about this otherworldly “hospital”—a place with a notorious reputation—outweighed any caution.
There was only one conclusion.
“Sounds good.”
“Haha, the tower lord will be delighted. Looking forward to seeing you later.”
Mage Elvin flashed that soft smile and returned to a table where a few men in identical gray robes waited, then left the guild with them.
“Haaa... just talking to a mage makes it hard to breathe.”
The moment they stepped out, Cache let out a massive sigh of relief.
“He seemed nice enough. I was actually startled by how tense you got, Cache.”
“You know the rumors about magic towers aren’t exactly wholesome, Director.”
“Yeah... true. Everyone thinks limbs get chopped off the second you mention hospitals or surgery.”
Cache downed the beer in front of her in one go, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand—thirsty from the tension, apparently.
“That’s not the only reason I was nervous. Mages mostly live inside their towers, so they’re a closed-off bunch who rarely talk to regular folk unless they’re getting treated.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, this is my first time chatting with one up close.”
“M-me too, scary!”
Res poked her head out from inside my clothes, still trembling from whenever she’d crawled in.
“Most people only go to magic towers when they’re in bad shape for stamina recovery magic. Adventurers visit sometimes, but ordinary folks like me almost never have a reason.”
“Fair point. No need to go if you’re not hurt.”
“Oh my, who’s this? Mr. Popular Walter himself?”
Walter finally made his way back to our table after dealing with the crowd. He smirked at Cache’s teasing, so his mood wasn’t bad.
Walter held foaming beer and a glass of milk for Res.
“The guild master gave them to me for free to celebrate my treatment. Food’s coming soon.”
Oh, freebies? She’d known Walter a long time, so she was probably more moved than most.
“Alright, a toast to Walter’s new look and his joining the Beauty Tower as our newest employee. Glasses up, everyone! To the prosperity of the Beauty Tower!”
““To prosperity!””
We clinked glasses, ate the hearty food that arrived, and discussed how the Beauty Tower should evolve—target customers, handling sell-outs of samples and display items, and more.
By the time the plates were empty and we’d each downed a few beers...
“Hey, Walter, can I ask you something?”
“Will you skip it if I say no?”
A bit tipsy, Cache ignored him and pressed on.
“People’s attitudes. They flipped so suddenly... you okay with that?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been dungeon diving in Frederik Dungeon Zone for years. Until right before your surgery—yesterday even—people said nasty things. Now they change overnight just seeing your new face. Snap!”
Cache snapped her fingers with bleary eyes.
“Doesn’t that bug you? I never badmouthed you, but whenever you passed my old junk shop, I’d get scared for no reason... not that I’m one to talk.”
“...”
“Ah! S-sorry. You must hate hearing that...”
Alcohol was scary. Even sharp Cache was blinking slowly now. No drinks for her at future company dinners.
“They were just scared, I think.”
I jumped in to change the subject, but Walter spoke slowly.
“Adventurers live with fear. What monster around the next corner? What unknown world on the next floor? What evil beast below that?”
Walter drained his beer and continued calmly.
“To them, I was fear. That huge, curse-like lump covering half my face built a massive wall before they even knew me.”
“But that’s their problem, not yours—”
“No, I built a wall too.”
“...?”
Walter cut Cache off and signaled a guild server for a refill.
“Neurofibromatosis. With that lump, I couldn’t even eat alone. By my mid-twenties, it had crept up over my lip.”
“...”
“No matter how careful, food spilled like a seven-year-old’s. Messier than a ten-year-old.”
The guild buzzed noisily, but Walter’s quiet words rang crystal clear.
“People pointed and called me a monster. And honestly, that face felt monstrous to me too.”
He recited like a poem.
“Before coming here, I wandered continents for ten years trying to rid myself of that facial curse. Know what I learned?”
It wasn’t a real question. We just watched him, and he went on.
“No place in this world sees you as you are.”
“That’s...”
Walter chuckled at Cache’s trailing words.
“Sure, I haven’t seen every continent or met everyone. Maybe someone out there could’ve accepted me. But ten years wasn’t enough.”
“...”
People say hardship builds character, like bones mending stronger.
But there’s a limit. Enduring alone for over ten years...
Wounds heal, new flesh grows. But scars from repeated strikes fester instead.
“Who’d guess dungeon crawling the borderlands would bring this miracle? So I don’t care what they thought of my old face. Even I couldn’t love it.”
“Walter...”
“Past is past. Now I just want a normal life, cherishing this face like anyone.”
When he finished, we silently clinked glasses for him—for the man who’d live ordinarily among crowds.
“Cache, can you watch Res at the hospital? I’ve got a quick stop to make.”
“Where? The magic tower?!”
“Nooo! What if Miner gets hurt?!”
Res fretted over me but flapped her tiny wings straight to Cache’s shoulder. Loyalty less than a dog’s, as expected.
“Come on, what could go wrong? I’m going with Walter anyway.”
“I’ll take responsibility for the director. No worries.”
“Still, be careful, Director! Who’ll pay my salary if you get hurt?!”
“Yeah! My food!”
“...”
My right-hand woman, Cache. Vowing once more: no booze next company dinner.
I headed to the tower with Walter.
* * *
At the edge of the grand plaza stood the office building that stressed me out just looking at it. Passing that damn place with bleary eyes, a massive, imposing gray tower like Sauron’s came into view.
This is the Wind Tower... all that limb-chopping talk must be exaggerated.
Whatever architect designed it, the bizarre structure oozed intimidation just standing there.
“Hmm...”
“No need to worry that much. I’m with you.”
“You’ve been to a magic tower before, Walter?”
“Other regions’ towers. Not good memories, though.”
“...”
No need to ask—I could picture exactly what Walter endured there.
“Let’s go, then.”
Don’t judge by rumors. Like heading to a conference, I approached the huge iron gate framed by drab gray bricks.
Kiiiiiik—
“Huh?”
Before I could even raise my hand to knock, the thick gate—that looked like it’d take five men to budge—slid open like an automatic door.
“Doesn’t the Beauty Tower’s front gate open like this?”
“Well, my hospital...”
Uses optical sensors. No point explaining to Walter, who wouldn’t get it, so I just stepped inside.
“You’re here, Tower Lord! And with company.”
“Hello, Mr. Elvin. Sorry, took a bit after eating.”
Just inside the massive gate, Elvin—who’d introduced himself as a tower mage—greeted us like he’d been waiting.
“Haha, no problem. Come in. I’ll take you to the tower lord first. This way.”
Unlike my worries, the tower’s interior beyond the gate was nothing like the gray brick exterior. It evoked an old European university library, with cozy flames flickering in wall sconces sans candles.
On the first floor, mages in outfits like Elvin’s cast stamina and mana recovery spells, treating patients.
Rumors aside, nothing weird here.
“The tower lord’s upstairs. This way.”
As I glanced around, Elvin led us to a door at one end.
Elevator?
Unlike a normal one, no floor buttons—instead, a fist-sized crystal orb where they’d be.
Elvin scribbled on the orb, the doors closed, and we felt that elevator float upward.
Curiosity got the better of me.
“Excuse me, Mr. Elvin, but how does this work?”
“First time on a magic elevator?”
Magic elevator?
“It runs on mana stones. The front gate too.”
Mana stones. Whatever they were exactly, they seemed like this world’s electricity.
“Not everyone can use them, of course. 1st Circle mages use pulley systems.”
I wondered why the hierarchy among mages, when—
“Kwaaaaaagh!”
A scream that shook my eardrums streaked past.