No Choice
“Huh? A scammer? But the people ahead of me said it didn’t hurt at all!”
“Don’t cut in line, you punk!”
“That bastard’s trying to jump ahead!”
“Hey, hey, hear him out! It was suspicious, right?”
As I climbed onto the platform and bellowed at the top of my lungs, the crowd erupted in chaos. Then Clementine, the tooth puller, came striding toward me with wide eyes and a grin, veins bulging across his face.
But I ignored him completely, gathering my strength in my gut once more.
“Tooth pulling doesn’t hurt? That’s a blatant lie! Clementine is a scammer… mmph!”
Just as I raised my voice again to expose the tooth puller’s true nature, he clapped a hand over my mouth. His palm, rough with thick calluses and reeking of grime, clamped down with terrifying force.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing? In my place of business? I’ve already proven myself enough—why are you stirring up trouble?”
“Pfft! Ptui! What’s a scammer like you got to be so cocky about?”
I shoved his hand away and declared it boldly, projecting my voice loud enough for Clementine—and everyone still watching from the front of the platform—to hear.
“Yanking teeth like this can cause massive bleeding and kill you! You absolutely must not pull teeth this way! That smoke he claims kills tooth worms? It just irritates your throat—total scam, no effect whatsoever!”
My outburst didn’t die down; I kept shouting from the platform. The musicians and acrobats responded by ramping up their noisy performances and flashy stunts, trying to drown me out for the crowd.
“Hahaha, looks like another guy who wants free treatment! Ha! Zi! Man! Free’s already over. Line up like everyone else, even if you’re bummed.”
The scammer was slick. Sensing I wasn’t backing down anytime soon, he was painting me as some deadbeat trying to mooch a free pull.
“Free? In your dreams! Even charging isn’t enough—what bullshit is this? Folks! I’ll prove those people who claim he pulled their teeth are lying!”
“You little shit! Get down already! You wanna lose all your teeth, asshole?”
With me refusing to budge, Clementine went for brute force, gripping my arm with that monstrous strength. Just then, Walter pushed through the crowd below, eyes locked on the scene.
“Hey? Isn’t that guy the Beauty Tower director?”
“Yeah! It’s Miner from the Beauty Tower!”
“They say Miner never lies.”
“Beauty Tower’s pricey, sure, but have you ever seen them scam anyone? Nope!”
The saying about fame—even if you shit gold, they applaud—hit home, my eyes misting over just a bit. Seeing people recognize me, even a few who knew my hospital, swelled my chest with pride.
“Ha, figures. Thought some cheapskate was causing a scene—turns out it’s you, Mr. High-and-Mighty Mage? No conscience, screwing over a fellow in the trade?”
But Clementine’s glare sharpened, more feral than before.
“Hey, mage boy. Weren’t you lot the ones swearing you’d never touch tooth pulling, even on your deathbed? Business that bad lately? Sticking your spoon in someone else’s rice bowl?”
Business? Rice bowl? Spoon? His whisper, pitched just for me, left my tongue numb.
At least magic towers didn’t do dental work. But this tooth puller was as bad as—or worse than—any mage.
No, they’re all the same breed. Shameless frauds like this guy or twisted-belief mages.
Either way, I couldn’t let them slide. And the key here? Swaying the crowd.
“I told you—I’ll prove your tooth pulling is a lie!”
So I had to push harder, no stopping.
“If you’re so confident, let me prove it! Not some quack like you—a real doctor! Miner will do it himself!”
I faced Clementine, but my words were for the audience. He knew it too; I heard his teeth grinding beside me.
He let out a heavy sigh, like he was cooling his rage, then slipped back into his jolly, upbeat mask.
“Fine! Prove it if you can, mage. I’m dying to see how.”
He shrugged and stepped back. I turned to the packed crowd before the platform.
“All medical procedures must be done in a clean environment. Tooth pulling’s no different! Especially not amid this chaos with musicians and acrobats—it’s extremely dangerous! Botch it, and the bleeding won’t stop. You could die!”
“Hey! Quit the nonsense! I doubted it too, but look—I got mine pulled fine!”
The balding guy who’d stirred trouble at the start rushed up, flashing his extracted tooth.
No wonder Clementine backed off so easily—he was counting on his shills.
“Yeah! Mine didn’t hurt a bit!”
“Don’t whine just ‘cause you wanna cut ahead!”
“Tsk tsk, mages can’t stand seeing others succeed.”
Not just Clementine—the first three “success” stories, his scam accomplices claiming zero pain, climbed up one by one to back him and the balding guy.
Look at these clowns? That’s how you wanna play?
Their coordinated act was impressive, but it suited me fine.
“Oh yeah? Hand it over. Let me take a look.”
“Take a look? I’m showing you the tooth… hey, what the—mmph!”
I snatched the tooth from the balding guy’s hand, inspecting it while prying open his foul-breathed mouth with my other fingers.
“Gack! Ptui! Sticking fingers in someone’s mouth? What the hell! Don’t they teach manners in the East?”
His random jab almost stung—till I remembered it hit too close. I’m an orphan; no parents.
Ignoring his yells, I turned back to the crowd.
“Upper jaw’s the maxilla, lower’s the mandible. Teeth are divided: upper right, upper left, lower right, lower left.”
Adults have 28–32 permanent teeth, but this world knew nothing of wisdom teeth.
“Not baby teeth—these permanents number 28 to 32, each with a number and name. Baldy here shows me his ‘pulled’ tooth: lower left #34, first premolar—first molar beside the canine. But get this.”
I grinned, pulling out my Crystal Orb and activating the light and screen-projection options.
“Agh! My eyes!”
“I’m proving it—stay still.”
The orb’s brilliant beam lit up his mouth, projecting the inside onto the air like a beam projector from the unlit side.
“Whoa! Gross!”
“That’s teeth, right? Looks like the inside of a mouth.”
“That slimy green… like my own mouth.”
The massive aerial screen, visible to all below, sparked murmurs that swelled. I cleared my throat and boomed on.
“See? Baldy’s mouth—missing tooth right here! Upper left second molar, sixth from center—first big molar. Hilarious, right? He claims the puller took a premolar, but the gap’s from a molar!”
Clementine’s face twisted in real time—he hadn’t seen this coming. But I didn’t stop, checking the other shills’ teeth and mouths the same way, exposing them all.
“This one: pulled big molar, gap’s small molar. And this—severe. Pulled molar, but look what he’s holding, folks! An incisor!”
“Wh-what? Clementine really lied?”
“No way… those guys are shills too?”
“Staged! All in cahoots!”
“Damn scammers! I knew tooth pullers were frauds!”
“Quack! Scammer!”
The crowd’s gaze turned venomous toward Clementine, spreading like wildfire. People started grabbing stones from the ground, ready to hurl.
“Fine! I exaggerated a bit! But is that such a big sin?”
His jolly mask shattered, face snarling.
“Everyone knows pulling hurts! Think about it, folks. It’s over in a flash. Someone’s gotta do it!”
He cracked his neck with a grind, brazen as ever.
“Toothache—you can’t chew bread, water stings, sleepless nights tossing! Live like that forever?”
His words boomed over the crowd.
“I stretched the ‘no pain’ bit. But you gotta pull ‘em anyway! Grit your teeth, yank it, then run to the magic tower for healing. Rich folks? Chug a stamina potion!”
“Hah, yeah… that’d work.”
“Still hurts though!”
“Didn’t you hear? Pain’s just a moment!”
The audience split, divided. Clementine shot me a smug grin and pressed on.
“Let’s be real. Anyone here got more pulling experience than me? Magic tower? Noble mages just lop limbs—help with stinky teeth? Ha!”
“Right!”
“Or maybe neighbor Pete pulls ‘em? Botch it, shatter a good tooth too?”
“Yeah, happened to my mom!”
Mask off, but the crowd swung back his way. Who’d trust self-pulling over Clementine’s hundreds?
“I’ll pull your teeth at the Beauty Tower! No pain, guaranteed!”
No choice. Guess I had to step up.