Chapter 32: I Want to Lose Some Fat
Ailene Calendar, August 8th, Monday.
A week had passed since the half-elf family started living in the Beauty Tower. In that time, the tower had undergone significant changes both internally and externally.
“Flawless, powerful elastic lifting! We're also discounting pigmentation-improving picotoning! Don't miss the shrink package that solves elasticity concerns in one go!”
“What is this place, spouting weird crap every damn day? Hey, miss, I heard you sell stamina potions too—is that right?”
“Oh my~ Of course! We sell not just stamina potions but mana potions as well! You can buy them from the gentleman next to me.”
“Two low-grade stamina potions, please.”
“Walter!”
“Mileage points accumulated. Safe dungeon runs to you.”
“Walter, sir!”
“Hold on a sec! I'll be right there!”
Externally, sales of potions had drawn a surge of adventurers heading to the dungeons. With the sudden influx of customers, Walter—who had been hired as the tower's bodyguard—now spent most of his time manning the stall with Cache, enthusiastically hawking products.
Walter... definitely isn't cut out for sales, Minho thought.
Unlike Cache, who sucked in customers like a living human vacuum, Walter operated more like a glitchy human kiosk. Interestingly, though, that awkwardness seemed to charm the women.
As long as it boosts sales, who cares.
People often stopped by to buy relatively cheap items like soap or sunscreen just to get a look at his face. Like a barista who couldn't brew coffee but worked overtime on looks alone.
“Director! Our place is all finished—wanna come see?”
“Come check it out!”
“You gotta see it!”
“Already? Alright, let's go take a look.”
The biggest internal change at the hospital seemed to be wrapping up.
As he checked on the hardworking Cache and Walter, the half-elf siblings approached and led him to the underground parking garage.
I said sure, but... why ditch a nice clean ward to live down here?
Elves were naturally attuned to nature. Their mother, Marlene, had found the 9th-floor ward more comfortable, but the half-elf kids must have inherited more from their elf father—they claimed they needed a nature-friendly space to feel energized.
There wasn't much natural around the hospital, so I told them they could do whatever with the underground parking if they wanted... but still.
Visitors and patients to the Beauty Tower mostly came on foot, or at most by horse or carriage. So the deeply dug parking garage down to B5 was always empty.
Even though these half-elves revived the Beauty Tower, I couldn't afford to buy them a farm while they're still paying off debts.
So I said they could use B4 however they liked, but now they're saying they'll live in the actual parking lot...
Minho descended to B4, pondering how anyone could live in a parking garage. This was the floor he'd given the elves free rein over.
Why does the parking lot... look like a botanical garden?
It was unbelievable even seeing it with his own eyes. His sleek, spotless parking lot had become a greenhouse. The walls and pillars of B4 were blanketed in ivy, and the floor was covered in lush green grass.
Grass... real grass? Is this nature's miracle?
Not fake turf—actual grass. He had no idea how it could grow on the epoxy-sealed floor, but B4 definitely hadn't looked like this before. Beyond the colorful little flowers blooming everywhere, massive hammocks hung between the ivy-wrapped pillars. And there was Marlene, their elf mother, lounging in one like she was on vacation, waving lazily.
“Doctor~ Long time no see. How've you been?”
He'd thought things were going smoothly. Until he saw this.
If there'd been billowing smoke rising too, he might not have known if this was the isekai frontier or San Francisco's hippie commune.
“Haha, we wanted to show you first, Doctor. Following your advice to make ourselves at home, we tweaked it a bit to suit us.”
“......”
A bit? Even after Tommy's explanation, Minho was speechless. The scene before him had left him dumbfounded.
I said make yourselves comfortable, not turn it into your home. Do elves have no sense of proportion?
The transformation of B4 from pristine parking to botanical garden grated on him, but now wasn't the time to chew out the pointy-ears—he needed their cooperation. Swallowing his boiling irritation, he forced a smile.
“Looks like you like it. Good to see.”
“Thank you for the kind words. If you'd like, we could do the other floors too—”
“No thanks.”
“Pardon?”
“I said no. Anyway, you haven't forgotten no open flames, right?”
One wrong move—like boiling soup—and the sprinklers might go off. She wasn't cooking, but watching Marlene crunch an apple from her hammock only fueled his anxiety.
“Aw, Director, really? We're not that forgetful—nowhere near as bad as you, Doctor. At home, we're sticking to just fruit like we promised.”
They weren't even paying rent, and now they were calling his parking lot “home.”
“Trash... you'll dispose of it properly, right? Can't have bugs in a hospital.”
“Hehe, Director, come on?”
Tommy chuckled at Minho's concern-laden words and turned to Marlene.
“Mom! Finish that apple and toss it! I wanna show the Director around!”
“Alright, one sec.”
Marlene had gnawed it down to the core.
“Hup!”
“No! Where are you throwing th—!?”
Like the Arirang baseball toss at an amusement park, the apple remnants arced toward a corner of B4. A blue flash streaked after it.
Thud!
Crunch—crunch crunch—
“......Bats?”
“Hehe, they're called bat plants. A type of vine that sticks to the ceiling and devours pests and food scraps. Want one, Doctor?”
“No... they don't attack people, do they?”
“Haha, no worries, Doctor. Bat plants won't go after anything bigger than themselves without orders. They're smart too—famous for obeying their owners.”
Like living trash compactors... but with glowing eyes on the ceiling, they looked exactly like bats. Green ones, which felt oddly unsettling.
Are they... really plants?
Useful, sure—but the cognitive dissonance hit hard.
Bzzz—bzzzzz—
A vibration from his pocket. The crystal orb he'd taken from the Black Moon Church Jo family.
Pulling it out, Cache's name appeared on the surface.
“Hello?”
—Director! You need to come out to the first floor right now!
“What's going on?”
—A customer arrived, and... Kyahhh!
“Cache! Cache?”
A howling gale roared through the orb, followed by heavy static.
“Director, something wrong?”
“Gotta check it out. Stay here, everyone.”
Leaving the half-elves behind, Minho took the elevator straight to the first floor. Crossing the automatic doors to the stall outside, he faced an unbelievable sight.
Whoooosh!
Rooooar!
A dust storm whipped over the stall. Following the massive shadow darkening the midday sky, he looked up. A gigantic turtle was descending from the air.
“What the...?”
“You're here, sir?”
“Director!”
Ignoring Walter and Cache's calls, Minho gaped at the enormous turtle landing on the ground.
The giant turtles hitched fore and aft to a lavish carriage.
“What... is that?”
“Not sure which house, but seems like nobility from far off—not local to this frontier. That's why I called.”
“I get it's nobles. But those turtles... what the hell are they?”
Obviously nobles if they arrived by carriage. But Minho didn't care about that right now.
Two massive turtles, one before and one behind the carriage, vaguely like Aldabra giant tortoises. Fierce downdrafts blasted from under their shells as they landed.
“Oh, those are sky turtles. As you see, they're used for long-distance travel. Nobles favor them for far trips.”
“......”
Don't freak out. This is isekai. Bat plants eat trash, so flying turtles? Sure, why not.
Plus, the real priority was whoever was in that carriage.
BOOM!
Thud!
The ground shook as the sky turtles completed their landing with the carriage. Onlookers at the stall barely batted an eye.
But I'm different. Nobles are here.
Exchanging a knowing glance with Cache, Minho brought Walter along and approached the carriage.
Mid-to-large SUV size. Hope it doesn't bite.
Up close, the sky turtles' overwhelming presence made him swallow dryly, but post-landing, they seemed utterly spent—not even blinking.
Screech—
“Hmm... this the place? The magic tower my boy's always yapping about?”
“Yes, Baron. This is where the young master gets his hair done.”
From the carriage slung between the turtles stepped a pudgy man with a vaguely repulsive face—someone Minho hadn't met—and another familiar one.
“Hello, Butler David.”
“Good to see you again, Director. I've come with the head of the Radius Baron household, Baron Bernard Radius.”
Usually just the salon club members, but today they'd brought the family boss.
“First time meeting, Baron Radius. I'm Miner, director of the Beauty Tower.”
“......”
The baron scanned the Beauty Tower up and down with shifty eyes, ignoring Minho's bright greeting.
Like father, like son? The punk kid with the Kim Jong-un haircut came to mind.
But no anger. Truth be told, that son had been key in helping the Beauty Tower establish itself.
A family that screams 'nouveau riche.'
The Radius Barons were upstart nobles—mere barons—but struck it rich a decade ago with an iron mine in their territory. Loaded with cash, in other words.
“This way inside. Walter, mind the stall. Cache, drinks please.”
They moved to the cafe, and soon Cache brought refreshments.
“Allow me to greet you again. I'm Miner, plastic surgery specialist. What brings you here today, Baron?”
“The baron wishes—”
“I'll speak.”
Bernard Radius cut off David, setting down his teacup. He glared at Minho with venomous eyes.
“I want to lose fat. Just the double chin.”