TravelingDreamer
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B7—Chapter 10: Crazy System of Greed
🕑 Added 2025-09-01 12:15:44 +0000 UTCWe picked up Rue from his after-lunch nap by the hostess stand in the restaurant, and Rabban led us to the residential area. It was big. There were a lot of people in the outpost, but I hadn’t thought there were that many. The residential area could house a few thousand people, if not tens of thousands. Tall seven-story buildings stood in the same square design of gray boxes with small windows. There were also long two-story buildings and private houses, ranging from tiny to huge. Pools dotted the area, along with training grounds for melee weapons and archery, plenty of places to eat or buy food and supplies, parking areas, and two extensive parks—one with a small pond in the middle and the other with barbecue areas. And that was only the beginning.
Rabban pointed at the tall buildings. “Those are the cheapest Eliminators’ housing. You can get a room there with a shower and toilet, but that’s it.” He gestured toward the long two-story houses. “Those are more expensive. The rooms there are like small apartments with a sitting room and a small kitchen. But I recommend you take a private house. I think a three-bedroom house will cost you something like ten mithril for a week. Oh, and a week here is nine days long. Seven working days and two days off.”
Mahya glanced between us. “I don’t think we need three bedrooms.”
Rabban looked surprised and stared between me and Mahya. “You’re together?”
She laughed. “No. John can open his house inside, so even in one room, we’ll have enough space.”
He shrugged. “You can do that, but I don’t recommend it. The difference in the price is not that large, and if you take three bedrooms, you’ll attract less suspicion.”
He led us to the administrative area of the residential sector, where we rented a three-bedroom house. He was almost right about the price; it cost us twelve mithril for the local week. The inside was the same gray on gray on gray, but at least the woman we spoke with was much friendlier than Ya and treated us with respect.
“You didn’t sleep with this one?” Mahya asked Rabban telepathically, including us in the conversation.
He blushed a deep red. “She is married.”
“Lucky for us,” Mahya sent, and we all snickered.
Rabban turned even redder but kept quiet.
Over the next two days, we acclimated ourselves. Rabban spent much of his time in our place, specifically in my house, which was located inside the rented one. He and Rue enjoyed themselves; Rue got ear scratches and stories about Rabban’s travels, they swam in my pool, complained together that I couldn’t set my house outside to open the pool to the air, and finished it all off by demolishing plates of smoked crab.
Al toured the Alchemy labs, set a work schedule agreed on by the Cleaners, and sold them a large stock of his potions. When he came back that first day, he felt stronger and looked smug. It reminded me that he wasn’t an alchemist by class but by profession, so he needed to sell or otherwise provide his potions for others to use to gain levels. Judging by his sudden jump in strength, I suspected he had gained two levels from the exchange, though he didn’t say, and I didn’t press.
Mahya went “sleuthing” in the vehicle workshops, but both evenings she came back in a bad mood. Apparently, the nobles were even more secretive than the guilds.
I toured the outpost and got acquainted with its various areas. At first, I did it on foot, but the place was enormous. Walking from one end to the other would have taken me hours, so after some trekking I found quiet corners to turn invisible or visible, and flew instead. It was much more straightforward.
The outpost was basically a small city. The areas near the three gates leading out belonged to the forces of House Jook. They looked like army bases, and almost everyone there wore uniforms. All the administration was also located in those sectors.
Further in stretched a massive adventurers’ hub, or rather, the hired Eliminators’ hub. Everything was geared toward their needs. There were numerous restaurants and even more bars, as well as workshops for repairing weapons and training grounds that extended beyond the residential sector. Service stations for vehicles, collection points for resources, and long rows of smithies, armorers, and tailors or leather workers working on enchanted gear. Apothecaries sold potions and salves, notice boards overflowed with job postings, and even small libraries and scroll shops stood ready for anyone looking to study spells or tactics.
Scattered throughout were large stables, each built to suit different riding mounts. Some housed horse analogs, sturdy and broad-shouldered, about thirty percent taller than Earth’s horses, with carnivorous teeth and meat in the feed instead of straw. Others housed long, sleek riding lizards that reminded me of the ones I had seen back in Tatob, though these were longer and mostly green instead of sandy or brown. A few catered to more exotic creatures: feathered reptilian drakes with sharp eyes, bulky six-legged beasts that were closest to rhinoceroses but not quite, antlered elk-like mounts with patches of faintly glowing red and black fur, and even horse-sized cats that stretched lazily in the shade of their pens.
I learned that even as Cleaners, we could turn in gathered resources at any of the stations, though we received less for them than regular Eliminators. That was the only limitation. Nobody seemed to care that we were Cleaners rather than Eliminators. Everyone I spoke to welcomed me and said they were glad we joined the effort to protect “the simple people,” as some called them, or “the weaklings,” as others put it.
I also learned that from time to time, even if the zone itself didn’t expand, there could be a sudden surge of mana. When that happened, the mana portals would shift and upgrade in color, marking a rise in their danger level. A massive release of beasts always followed, driving them into a frenzy that spilled outward as a monster wave. These waves didn’t just batter the outpost walls; they tried to push past them and spread deeper into the country. The outpost itself was only about five kilometers wide, yet it was responsible for defending a stretch nearly thirty kilometers across. It was their duty to stop the monsters from crossing that line and reaching the kingdom beyond. If even a fraction slipped through, villages and farmland further inside would suffer, and the damage could ripple outward for weeks.
What was more alarming was that monster waves didn’t always wait for a mana surge. If the portals and dungeons released enough beasts at once, the outflow could still turn into a wave. It wasn’t as massive as the ones following a surge, but it was still dangerous. Sometimes it happened when the portals near the center spat out something large and powerful. The smaller creatures would flee in panic, and their stampede became a wave of its own.
The only way to prevent such outbreaks, or at least lessen their danger, was to clear as many portals and dungeons as possible. The problem was that Cleaners had to pay nearly the full estimated resource value for access, while contracted Eliminators were only sent to the most profitable sites. Safety and prevention came second to profit.
When that happened, a general call to arms went out. It didn’t matter who you were—Eliminator, Cleaner, artisan, or cook—every able person was expected to take up arms or lend their skills. Some fought on the walls, while others worked in the workshops to keep weapons and vehicles operational, and still others healed or supported the fighters. Status and titles meant nothing in those moments. Survival depended on everyone standing together.
Another interesting fact I learned was that since Houses Jook and Tubar were at war, Tubar’s forces occasionally attacked the outpost. In those cases, everyone under House Jook’s authority or contract had to take up arms and defend their holdings. Because it was a house war and not a monster wave, Cleaners and independent business owners were exempt. They were expected to stay out of the way, either hiding in their residences or, preferably, vacating the outpost until the fighting ended.
One Cleaner named Ash, a wiry man with quick eyes and a sly grin, told me in secret that these house skirmishes were the best time to head into the zone without buying official access to a portal or dungeon. With most people occupied with the fighting, there was little chance of being caught or spied on. He called it a rare chance for “hard-working innocent Cleaners” to get some real work done without interference.
The same applied when House Jook’s forces went out to attack House Tubar. In that case, it was a “mithril moment to visit the sector of House Tubar,” he told me with a wink.
I just laughed and shook my head. People were people everywhere, always finding a way to bend the rules or slip around them.
A lot of Eliminators had familiars or trained beasts. I saw sleek lizards with scales that shimmered in different colors, felines that moved with silent grace, canines, some even larger than Rue, though not quite the massive size he had once reached. There were enormous snakes coiled around their handlers, hawks and ravens circling overhead, and extra-large insects, their carapaces looking like armor. A few even kept giant turtles fitted with saddles or cargo harnesses, plodding steadily through the streets. And then there were the creatures I could not place at all, with too many eyes, too many extensions, or bodies that seemed stitched together from more than one species. They had no parallel I was familiar with, yet they moved alongside the rest as if they belonged. One even had a turquoise beast, like the ones we saw in the zone that Mahya wanted to skin.
The thing that astonished me the most was the bordellos. After what Rabban said about this world being deeply religious, I hadn’t expected it, so it took me a while to realize what I was looking at. All of them were gathered in one section of the outpost, catering to both men and women.
The men’s houses had pretty women sitting on balconies like they were on display, dressed in revealing outfits. Their signs made me snicker once I understood them. Things like “Spread Petals, Open for You” with a drawing of a wide blossom dripping nectar while bees hovered toward the center, or “Come Sow Your Seed” with a drawing of a hand scattering grain into a furrow of earth shaped unmistakably like a woman’s hips.
The women’s establishments were no less obvious. Young men, mostly shirtless, leaned lazily on balconies, flexing just enough to show off. Their signs were just as blatant—“Stallions for Your Saddle” with a picture of a powerful stallion, reins dangling and erection impossible to miss, or “Come Ride the Father’s Sons” with a line of muscular men drawn as antlered stags standing proud.
I shook my head. At least they don’t discriminate. Free options for all.
During those two days, I was “attacked” by Pi three times. The first time was on day one, while I was talking with the lady at the collection posts, asking questions. Pi skip-hopped toward me, hugged my waist, planted a kiss on my cheek, half-shouted, “Have a sun-filled day,” and skip-hopped away again before I could react.
The second time, I was talking with Ash at the entrance to the Cleaners’ office. Once more she came skip-hopping toward us, waving in greeting with both hands. “Greetings Ash. Greetings Jo. Ash doesn’t need saving; he’s too careful. Don’t worry about him. Ash, I saw a flock of sky moths near the rooftops and they were glowing blue like lanterns and then—oh, did you know there’s a vendor selling candied beetle shells near the west gate?” She rattled it off so fast and with so many turns that neither of us got a single word in. Then she hugged my waist again, kissed my cheek, shouted “see you in the turning of moons,” and skip-hopped away once more, leaving us both staring after her.
Ash shook his head, muttered, “I’ll never understand her,” and went right back to our conversation as if nothing had happened. I, on the other hand, was still trying to recover from the whirlwind she left behind.
The third time happened while I was in the produce market, looking over the local tasties and asking the vendors how to use them. Pi skip-hopped toward me again, pressed a massive fruit into my hand that looked like the rambutan I had first encountered in China, only larger, with longer “hair,” and bright orange instead of red, then declared, “This is my favorite.” Before I could even thank her, she had already skip-hopped away, leaving the vendors chuckling and me staring at the fruit in confusion.
On the third day in the outpost, Mahya, Rabban, Sonak, and Rue headed into the zone to clear a yellow portal she bought. The cost was twenty-three mithril, with an estimated resource value of around thirty. I shook my head at the insanity. After everything I had learned about beast and monster waves, Fu’s words started to make sense. Instead of the nobles granting free access to the zone so that portals could be closed and the waves reduced or even prevented, they sold that access for ridiculous amounts of money.
When Fu had first hinted that we should take whatever we could if it weren’t on the list, I had judged him harshly. It sounded like he was encouraging theft. Later, once I learned about the monster waves, I began to understand his reasoning. Now, after watching Mahya pay through the nose just for the privilege of doing work that actually protected the kingdom, I no longer just understood him—I agreed with him completely. This wasn’t theft. It was justice. It was doing the right thing despite the nobles’ greed. If they would not make safety affordable, then taking what was needed to weaken the waves was not only reasonable, it was necessary.
I decided to join Mahya for a few portal and dungeon runs once I had finished tending to the people who needed healing.
The Cleaners’ Healing Hall was another long stone box, two buildings down from the registration office. Inside, the air smelled faintly of herbs and blood. A reception desk stood near the entrance, and behind it sat a woman with one arm, her remaining hand tapping on a glowing pad.
When I stepped up, she didn’t look up, so I cleared my throat. “I’m a healer. Came to help.”
Her head jerked up, eyes wide with surprise. Then she gave a small nod and tapped something quickly on her pad. “Jo?”
“Yes.”
Her face softened into a smile. “I am very happy to see you. I’ll call somebody to take you around.”
She disappeared into a side hall and returned with a man moving awkwardly on crutches, his right leg ending just below the knee. He stopped in front of me, and I caught myself staring too long . He shifted under my gaze, his shoulders tightening.
“Name’s Im,” he said, voice polite but guarded.
“Im,” I echoed. My eyes flicked to the empty space where his leg should have been before the words slipped out. “Why hasn’t a healer regrown your leg?”
His face colored, and he dropped his gaze. “Can’t pay for it,” he mumbled.
I opened my mouth, but before I could reply, he turned and gestured down the hall. “I will show you around.”
Im led me into a narrow corridor with doors on either side. We passed a small storage room where shelves sagged with rolls of bandages, jars of salves, and stacks of clean linen. A woman with only one hand was carefully folding cloth strips, her stump pressed against the table to keep them straight. She looked up and offered me a smile before returning to her work.
Farther along, another man with both legs gone below the knee maneuvered a cart with surprising skill, pushing it with his arms while balancing bundles of dressings and clean bedding. The sight of so many helpers missing limbs left me more bewildered with every step.
Im pushed open the next door, and I stepped into a long ward. Twelve beds lined the walls, every one but two occupied. Some of the wounded groaned softly, others shifted restlessly in their sleep, and a few just lay still, staring at the ceiling with dull, lifeless eyes.
At the far end, a young woman bent over a patient. Im led me toward her, and I caught a faint surge of mana from the spell she cast, though the patient didn’t seem any better. She looked up as we approached, her eyes widening.
“This is Len,” Im said, nodding toward her. Then he gestured at me. “This is Jo. He’s here to help.”
I identified her. “Level four?” I asked, surprised. “With all these injured, how come you’re still so low?”
Color rose in her cheeks. She lowered her eyes, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I only got the class a short while ago. My mana is small. I treat the worst cases, just enough to keep them alive… and then we wait for party healers to come and do more.”
I glanced around the room again—the rows of broken bodies, the healer who could do so little, the staff missing limbs they couldn’t afford to replace—and shook my head.
What a crazy system.
With a sigh, I got to work and knelt beside the man Len had been working on. His body was covered in bleeding bite and claw marks, the sheets beneath him stained dark. A quick Diagnose confirmed what I already suspected—he’d lost a dangerous amount of blood.
“Len, bring me water,” I said.
She hurried to fetch a cup while I laid my hand on the man’s chest and repeatedly cast Healing Touch. The worst of the wounds closed, but his skin was still pale. Len returned, breathless, and handed me the water.
“Easy now,” I murmured, lifting his head just enough to help him drink. He swallowed weakly, then sagged back.
I cast Healing Touch again, this time weaving in Fortify Life Force to push his body to replenish what he had lost. His breathing steadied, the color returning faintly to his cheeks. A second Diagnose told me he was fine.
“He’ll be fine,” I said, straightening up. “Let him sleep it off.”
Len nodded, relief plain on her face as she looked down at the patient.
The man in the next bed had a different problem. When I cast Diagnose, it showed mana channels blackened and frayed, half-burned out.
I pulled up a stool beside him. “What happened to you?”
His voice was hoarse but steady. “Red portal. Monsters with strange magic.” He shifted, wincing. “It felt like fire inside me… burning me from the inside. I blacked out.”
I frowned. “How’d you make it back?”
He turned his head toward the bed beside him. “My friend dragged me out. We were the only two who made it.” His jaw tightened. “Six of us went in.”
Fortunately for the man, I’d dealt with this kind of damage before, back when I rescued Mahya from the elves. I eased him into sleep first, then laid my hands over his chest and let my mana seep into him, probing carefully along the blackened lines of his channels. The ones that were still intact were fused shut, like scorched pipes. Slowly, patiently, I pried them open, coaxing the flow back to life a little at a time.
Some channels were too far gone, and there I had no choice but to weave bypasses, thin new paths for the mana to travel. It was delicate, finicky work, but nowhere near as extensive as what I’d had to do with Mahya.
The hours stretched as I worked, sweat beading on my forehead, until at last the channels hummed faintly with energy again. I finished with Fortify Life Force, sending strength into his core, then sat back with a long breath. He would recover. For now, I let him sleep it off.
His friend in the next bed had the same problem, though the damage was less severe. That was probably why he’d stayed conscious long enough to drag the other man out. I repeated the same process with him and then left him to sleep it off as well.
In this way, I treated all the people in the ward, with Len functioning as my assistant. Primarily to bring water and food to the patients, change their bloody linens, and reassure them.
Im poked his head in a couple of times while I worked, checking on us quietly. The second time he stepped inside, I straightened and caught his eye.
“Eat and drink as much as you can today,” I told him, wiping the sweat from my forehead. “Tomorrow is your turn.”
He froze, his crutches pressing into the floor. “I can’t afford it,” he said, almost defensively.
I leaned back in my chair and gave him a slight grin. “Don’t worry. You can. It’ll cost you a glass of beer once you’re back on your feet. If my familiar joins us, it’ll cost you two glasses of beer.”
For a moment, he looked like he was about to argue, but then he only nodded and thanked me.
It was already dark by the time I finished with the last patient. I was just about to head out when Len stepped into my path. She clasped her hands together and stared at the floor, her entire posture uneasy.
“When will you come back to treat the rest?” she asked softly.
I glanced around the ward. The patients were sleeping soundly now, their breathing calm, their faces no longer twisted in pain. “What rest?” I asked. “They’re all fine. Tomorrow they can leave.”
Len bit her lip, then lifted her eyes toward me. “This is only the most urgent ward,” she admitted. Her voice wavered, but she pressed on. “We still have two more… on the second floor.”
I sighed deeply. “Lead the way.”
She looked surprised, but didn’t argue.
Len led me up the stairs to the second floor. The first ward was lined with beds, every one of them occupied. Bandages wrapped around arms, legs, and chests.
“Some party healers treated them,” Len explained, keeping her voice low as we walked between the rows. “But they didn’t finish. Since they weren’t in danger, we moved them up here to wait for the rest.”
I gave a small nod and moved on to the next room. Every bed was filled with people missing limbs. Some were sitting up, some just lay staring at the ceiling. At the far end, one man lay still, the right side of his skull caved in, chest rising and falling shallowly.
I stopped at his bedside, casting Diagnose. The result made my stomach sink. I could push healing spells into him, but with the bone pressed in like that, it wouldn’t help.
“I’ve never seen this before,” I said, glancing at Len. “I have no idea how to fix it.”
Her hands twisted in front of her robe. “I don’t either. And I don’t know anyone who does.”
I looked back at the man, unconscious and broken, and for the first time since I started healing, I had no answer.
Back in the first ward, I worked my way down the line, closing wounds and steadying pulses until the last patient finally drifted into sleep. I left them to rest and crossed the hall to the second room.
“Eat and drink as much as you can for the next two days,” I told the rows of weary faces. “Your bodies will need it.”
A few gave weak nods, others just murmured in reply. With nothing else I could do for now, I headed home.
Al was back, judging by his jacket on a bar stool, but the others were still in the portal. I crossed my fingers that they were fine and went to sleep.
Comments
Silver Beard
So no Mind Fortress here? Gave up looking too quickly
Silver Beard
Also curious why he hasn't tried to acquire bigger heal spells from Guidance. Constantly spamming Touch Heal might eventually help his skill levels, but it seems like a huge waste of mana for some of these bigger issues.
