Graveyard House (2)

The claim that the children rescued from the arena were being cared for here was true. At the emotional reunion, as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the children teared up, even Nathan nearly felt his eyes stinging. He nearly did, anyway. In truth, Nathan had rarely mingled with children his own age during his childhood. The closest thing he had to memories were his father’s brutal, emotionless training sessions. Things like wrapping a metal chain around his son’s neck, yanking it tight, and calling it encouragement—only the strong survive. In such a barren environment, healthy social skills had little chance to grow. And the children spotted the barren wasteland of Nathan’s social abilities far too quickly. As always.

Within five minutes, tiny hands were yanking at his hair.

“Your hair looks like seaweed.”

“Seaweed has to be cooked before you eat it.”

“Can we pull it out?”

He must have looked like an easy mark, yet Nathan couldn’t even muster the thought of resistance. It had been simpler when they were rescue targets. At least then his duty was clear. But in peaceful moments like these, these snot-nosed little terrors were nothing short of horrifying to him.

“Why is your hair like that?”

“...I just came in from the rain. And I haven’t washed it in over a week.”

A tray slammed down in front of Nathan with a clang.

“Even after I washed it, it was still in that state. I worked hard to clean not only your hair but all the dried blood caked across your entire body.”

Nathan, lifting a spoon while a giggling child clung to his arm, froze. The pink-haired elf had taken the seat across from him, radiating a heavy, oppressive aura. Once again the patients in the cafeteria swiveled around, eyes wide. Apparently the show they’d been hoping for wasn’t the monster bloodbath Nathan had assumed.

Nathan stole a glance at his new dining companion. Beneath her short hair, the corners of her eyes were faintly red. From staring too long at work that demanded concentration… or from crying hard enough to leave a mark. He decided it would be wise not to upset her. Nathan watched her carefully as he spooned up some soup, then paused.

“Wait. You washed my body…”

Who? Nathan quickly scanned the room. No matter which member of the visible medical staff had done it, the thought was equally uncomfortable. The skeleton whose face made it impossible to tell if he was smiling, the lizard whose eyes darted rapidly between Nathan and the elf, and the person right in front of him… Nathan halted the chaotic sprint of his thoughts. He simply decided to bury his face in the soup bowl.

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

Yet the pink-haired woman didn’t touch her spoon. She simply rested her chin on her interlaced fingers and glared at him. All the way until Nathan finally ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠set his own spoon down.

Nathan felt his stomach knot.

“So your name is…”

“Venessa. Everyone calls me Beni, so you should too.”

“Now that I think about it, I have quite a few questions. Beni, how long was I unconscious?”

“A full three days. Honestly, I expected you to stay in bed suffering even after you opened your eyes. It was a massive surgery, after all. The human who defeated Pretty Boy and the twins really is built different, I suppose.”

‘Pretty Boy and the twins. That must mean the beast chimera and those family-business murderers.’

The previous battle flashed before his eyes like a lightning reel. Nathan felt his organs twist.

“How do you run a clinic of this scale without charging for treatment?”

Even an ordinary caretaker in a slum would bleed money. Converting an entire large warehouse into patient rooms made free operation seem impossible. But Beni appeared to interpret Nathan’s words in a different light.

“Are you worried I’ll demand payment? There’s no need. How many people in this Graveyard Valley do you think owe me debts?”

“...Did you kill everyone who didn’t pay?”

Beni’s eyes widened in displeasure.

“No. I simply don’t bother chasing after those who skip out on pocket change. I make plenty of money anyway.”

“Beni, bragging about your wealth is rather ugly. It won’t work on me.”

When the skeleton nurse whispered, Beni wore an embarrassed expression.

“Get lost, you insane skull-face?”

Nathan involuntarily stifled a laugh. The dramatic shifts in her expressions were entertaining the more he watched. The skull-face Ramkaf turned toward Nathan as well.

“And even if the day comes when I start demanding fees from every patient, you don’t have to pay.”

“Why?”

“Just say it, Ramkaf. I’ll twist your skull off.”

Beni’s voice dropped. Yet the skeleton simply spread both palms as if to ask what she intended to do about it.

“The weather’s foul so I can’t go outside, and I’m bored. One of the patients provided some entertainment. He spread the address of an illegal relay channel he’d managed to obtain. It was none other than live footage from the Floating Arena.”

The hellish arena where the kidnapped Nathan had fought for his life. The hospital patients had been too busy cheering at the orcs to notice him at first. Bakama and his rivals from the recently ended popular program Descendants of War. In the Heavens those fellows were as famous as celebrities. The patients, craving vivid combat, had fallen into a frenzy of excitement.

“But then you appeared on camera. That was the moment Beni placed a massive bet on you.”

“Shut your trap, Ramkaf. One more word and I’m calling Sweetie.”

“It’s not like it’s a story that can’t be told. Why not? Call or don’t call. I asked Beni why she did it, and the reason was interesting. It pissed her off that the bastards who buy expensive tickets for entertainment were cursing a guy who’d been dragged there against his will, telling him to die. The other guys don’t even have money to eat and die.”

Nathan subtly looked away from Beni, whose expression had begun to harden.

“So everyone else bet along for fun? They pooled their pocket change in groups of three or five under Beni’s account. Figured they might as well throw the money away as hospital bills. But as you know, it hit the jackpot. You essentially paid off all the overdue fees for everyone here.”

The cheerfully chattering skeleton suddenly flinched at the grotesque footsteps approaching from afar. Clank. Click. Clank. Ramkaf spoke at full speed.

“Oh, so you’re coming out like this? I deliberately avoided the awkward subject for you? Actually, the person here at first si—!”

A ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠black monster leaped over several tables in a single bound. It landed with a heavy thud between the tables, growling as its long fingers seized the skeleton’s skull. Nathan shot to his feet and stepped in front of the children. Yet the children didn’t look frightened at all. A few of them were even waving.

“Hi, Sweetie.”

It was a truly unbiased attitude. The monster swept its glowing red eyes over them, then abruptly turned and vanished toward the far side of the cafeteria, dragging the skeleton behind it. Even while struggling, Ramkaf shouted with determination.

“Even if you wring a chicken’s neck, morning will still come—! Guarantee the freedom of gossip in this unbearably boring ward—!”

The patients burst into laughter. It was hardly the reaction of people witnessing a dangerous monster. It seemed the hospitals of the Heavens raised beasts to maintain staff hierarchy. The description didn’t fit at all, yet Nathan had seen it with his own eyes. When he expressed his inability to adapt with his entire face, the lizard doctor patted his back understandingly.

“It’s already been ten years, but I still can’t get used to it either.”

Beni, her face flushed crimson, tried to leave her seat. But Nathan’s words stopped her cold.

“That… hearing that you bet on me sounds rather grateful. But why try to hide it?”

After a moment of hesitation, Beni set her tray down again and sat.

“I was afraid you’d feel offended.”

“Why? The motive behind the bet wasn’t impure like those other thugs. When that gangster asked if you’d ever placed a bet before, you could have told him you’d won bigger than he had. It would have flattened his arrogance.”

“...I got heated for some reason and bet on you winning. But if someone placed a bet on my life, whether on victory or defeat, I think I’d feel bad about it.”

Nathan was momentarily speechless. Having someone root for him to win wasn’t particularly unpleasant. Yet if even those words turned out to be an act, it would feel extremely bad.

“I’m truly grateful.”

Beni lifted her chin. The conversation had finally reached the point she wanted.

“For what?”

“...For betting money to cheer me on?”

“I already received compensation for that. Isn’t there something else you should really be thankful for?”

Nathan’s eyebrows twitched.

“Yes, now that I think about it, you saved me on the street and… well, the treatment…”

“Reattaching your dislocated ankle and ribs, stitching up your perforated intestines, removing tooth fragments from your gums. And cleanly replacing both broken prosthetic arms.”

Beni picked up her spoon and waved it at Nathan like a dagger.

“In that situation, what should you have said first?”

“I should have said thank you from the beginning?”

“Finally. Finally we’re communicating. I’ll overlook the initial rudeness. Anyway, thanks to you I earned far more than expected, so let’s call it even for the favors exchanged.”

“Rudeness? Weren’t you the one who first talked about hammering hooks into me?”

“You suddenly ripped the communication panel open first. It’s so cold we can’t even open the window—is there any need for all of us to catch pneumoconiosis?”

When he thought about it, the argument had been unwinnable from the premise. Nathan decided to keep his mouth shut and simply nod. Beni delivering lectures, the children yanking his hair, and somewhere beyond the window came the vigorous scream of a vocal-cord-less bone undead. While forcing soup down his throat amid the chaos, Nathan suddenly frowned. The skeleton’s last words had lodged in his mind like a stone in bread.

What did the first sight do?

By the time Nathan had barely emptied his soup after a fierce battle with the little ones, the soul-drained skeleton trudged back into the cafeteria. He carried a tray and teacups in his hands. After setting a cup before each of them, Ramkaf collapsed into a chair. His loosely fitted jawbone fell onto his knee. To Nathan, who wore a sour expression, the skeleton answered while reattaching his jaw.

“What happened to you? Don’t be curious.”

“What’s more curious is how you’re even speaking. And what is this? Coffee?”

“You recognize coffee. Even in the declining Lower World, the culture of drinking burnt bean juice survives. A desirable thing. Need ice?”

“I hate putting anything in water to begin with.”

When the skeleton offered a tray of ice cubes, Nathan shook his head. Then he suddenly looked around. The sight of the ice had reminded him. The white-haired magician elf who had cooperated with him to defeat the chimera was nowhere to be seen.

“Now that I mention it, where is that kid? You said every single child came here?”

“That’s right. All thirty-nine arrived. But who are you referring to?”

“Thirty-nine? It should be forty. Where is that elf child? What was the name—Frosty or something—”

Beni’s eyes blinked several times. Nathan caught it and continued, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Ah, I remember now.”

Nilly. The kid’s name was Nilly.

“Nill—”

At that moment, Nathan seized the hand that tried to cover his mouth. He immediately twisted it down onto the table. The person who had reached for Nathan’s face was none other than Beni.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“What the hell are you doing, you—!”

“Sapiens bastard, get your hands off our hospital director!”

The patients of various races seated around them rose as one. Fear showed on their faces, yet their attitudes were utterly resolute. The skeleton and lizard hurriedly rushed forward to intervene. But the commotion died at a single word from Beni.

“Everyone shut your mouths and sit down.”

Nathan released Beni’s arm. Yet deep distrust now flickered in his eyes once more.

“What did you do to that child?”

“If you don’t say a single word from now on and simply follow me, I’ll tell you.”

Rubbing the head that had struck the table, Beni stood first. As Nathan moved to follow, he suddenly remembered the monster that lived in the hospital. He secretly slipped a spoon into his pocket and slowly bent it into an awl shape.

Beni guided Nathan into the curtained workshop. Nathan, who only vaguely remembered the tragic scene, briefly entertained a horrible misunderstanding. Perhaps she had killed the girl and intended to show him the corpse. Only after seeing metallic glints flashing everywhere did Nathan completely dispel the misunderstanding.

“This is my workshop. I create mechanical bodies for people who have lost their limbs. The parts in the arm you’re using now were all made here. Want to try these on?”

Beni lifted a pair of welding safety goggles and tried to place them on Nathan. Frowning and dodging, he eventually surrendered to her persistence.

“Just wear them. That’s the only way you’ll see.”

“Fine, I’ll wear them. There.”

Beyond the goggles, a fluorescent world appeared. Nathan marveled at the brilliant trails of sparks scattered everywhere. It was like viewing flowers that remained invisible to the naked eye.

“When you bond metal to flesh with mana, welding marks appear. To perform the surgery correctly you must watch those marks, and to see the marks you need these goggles. Now, look over here, will you?”

Beni tapped one wall lightly with her fist. There, visible only through the safety goggles, words had been written in an extremely urgent hand.

“Mana welding is something only I can do in this hospital. There’s no way I would have written meaningless graffiti on the wall. It makes no sense that I did this and then completely forgot. Mana condensates are extremely expensive materials.”

Beni swallowed hard. She could no longer hide the fear rising within her.

“I discovered this writing on the fourteenth. It gave me goosebumps. I had absolutely no idea who this Nilly child was. Just like everyone else in the hospital. But you, who came from outside, know her. So I’ll summon the courage to ask. Who exactly is Nilly?”