Doctor Player

Chapter 7

As Lance approached, he overheard a conversation taking place in the patient’s room.

“Healer... Thank you so much. You saved my life.”

“I’m just happy I could help. But we’re not out of the woods yet. Please take care going forward.”

“Oh, and you’re so kind on top of everything. It must have been the grace of the heavens that brought me to you, healer.”

The person speaking was the emergency patient who’d been admitted with hematemesis. He was still pale, but awake and expressing his gratitude.

How...? How is this possible? Lance couldn’t believe his eyes. “Was it Director Bucks?” he demanded, fuming.

“Master Lance?”

“You couldn’t possibly have healed such a severe case of hematemesis, Senior Raymond! Who was it who healed this patient?”

Raymond subtly rolled his eyes. It really was me. “Um... I treated him.”

“Stop with this nonsense! With your healing abilities, how could you—”

“I didn’t use healing to cure him.”

“What?”

Raymond took a deep breath. This was a hurdle he had to get over at some point. “I cured the patient using the ancient method of treatment called medical science.”

“Med— What?” Lance’s eyes widened, his bewilderment growing. Medical science? He’d never even heard of such a thing before!

But Raymond remained composed as he continued with his audacious claim, keeping a careful watch on Lance’s reaction as he delivered his prepared scenario. “Recently, when I was carrying out an errand in the north, I took a misstep and accidentally fell from a cliff. I happened to stumble upon a set of ancient ruins and managed to learn all about the ancient remedy of medical science.”

This cliff scenario was a classic, well-worn trope in fiction, and so it wasn’t entirely pulled out of thin air.

“What? You expect me to believe such a ridiculous lie?” Lance exclaimed.

At that moment, the patient, who had been quietly listening to their conversation, chimed in. “Ah, shut it. Hey, Mr. Healer, I swear on my name that it was that fine young man over there who saved my life. I remember him running about like a headless chicken trying to save me, clear as day.”

The patient, Bent, had vague memories of his surgery. The medicinal herbs weren’t a perfect anesthetic, and so he’d swam back to consciousness now and then.

“Here’s proof that that healer treated me. Look.” Bent lifted his shirt, revealing a vivid incision mark on his stomach.

Lance was left speechless.

Then Bent added in a mocking tone, “Come to think of it, I remember you too. Unlike this good-looking lad over here, that mug of yours is so ugly, it was carved into my mind’s eye even though I was all woozy.”

Ugly and rat-faced, Lance had an inferiority complex about his looks. This also happened to be one of the reasons he’d targeted Raymond with special intensity, as even though Raymond was born a bastard, he was extraordinarily handsome and turned heads wherever he went—perhaps thanks to his noble lineage.

“What nonsense—” Lance was about to explode at the patient, but he was quickly silenced.

“You told them to just leave me to die. And if it weren’t for this handsome young fellow, I really would’ve— All because of you, you stinking louse!” Bent pointed an accusing finger at Lance. “Shame on you! Get out of my sight! This healer is worth a million of you, you worthless quack!”

“Y-you mustn’t say such things,” Raymond interjected, putting on a troubled face.

“Oh, did I say anything that wasn’t true? Stay still, healer.” Bent stooped to pick up something from beside his bed, giving it a great heave.

Splash!

It was the bedpan. A shower of urine was flung through the air in Lance’s direction.

“Aaahhh! W-what the hell?” Drenched in urine, Lance trembled with anger, but couldn’t utter another word. Bent now held up a second bedpan filled with feces. “If you don’t want to end up covered in sh*t, get lost!”

Letting out a yelp, Lance fled like a bat out of hell, leaving Bent and Raymond as the only remaining occupants in the patient’s room. Their conversation would have proved unexpected to anyone eavesdropping.

“I did just as you asked, healer. I did a good job, didn’t I?”

Raymond gave a thumbs-up and replied, “Absolutely. You were brilliant!”

If Lance had overheard this conversation, he would have been utterly gobsmacked. The scene Bent caused just now had actually been planned by Raymond, right down to throwing urine on Lance!

Raymond whispered conspiratorially, “That rat doesn’t even qualify as a healer. If you ever return, you really should give him a taste of waste.”

“Haha! You got it! I definitely will next time.”

Raymond grinned. After getting to see Lance soaked in piss, he felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest.

***

Nothing much changed about Raymond’s daily life after that. He had successfully treated a critically ill patient, but no one acknowledged his accomplishment.

“Ancient, mysterious technique? Medical science? What kind of crap is that?”

“He was just lucky. The bleeding probably stopped on its own.”

The evidence was right before their eyes, but they didn’t even bother to look—no, they simply chose to ignore it. In their eyes, Raymond was still disgusting, pathetic trash.

The only exception was Hanson, who’d witnessed the miracle firsthand.

“Senior Raymond…”

“Hm?”

“I… Never mind.” Hanson looked deeply perplexed. He’d opened his mouth to question Raymond several times, but had ultimately kept his questions to himself. “From now on... I’ll take care of the cleaning again.”

“Hm? But—”

“No, it’s my duty as the youngest in the center, as you know.” Hanson snatched the cleaning rag out of the gobsmacked Raymond’s hand.

There was one other person who was now looking at Raymond differently: Lance. Where before he’d looked at him with mockery and contempt...

Now he looks like he wants to kill me. Raymond could feel the hostile gaze boring into the back of his head, but it didn’t make him recoil as it always had before.

In the past, I wouldn’t have known how to hold up against a look like that. He marveled at the changes he felt within himself. I’ve gained confidence after treating the hematemesis patient. That’s why I’m not scared the way I would’ve been before.

Now, he no longer saw himself as a pathetic, underqualified healer. Instead, he saw his own potential to become the best, even if no one acknowledged it yet. Just wait and see. One day, I’ll become the best healer in the country, and I’ll have the Bellund Infirmary under my thumb.

As Raymond was ruminating over his hopes and dreams, Lance approached him with an entirely unexpected request.

“There’s something I want you to do, Senior Raymond.”

“What is it?”

Lance’s eyes turned cold.

What’s he going to make me do? Raymond suddenly felt anxious. He had a bad feeling. He reassured himself, No, it’ll be fine. I have the player skills now. But Lance’s next words shattered his peace of mind.

“I’d like for you to work as an on-site healer at the upcoming Founder’s Day at the palace.”

Raymond’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What... did you just say?”

“I asked you to participate in the royal festival. Why? Is it not a great honor?”

The Founder’s Day celebration was a grand event held at the royal palace, bringing together all the nobles in the capital to celebrate the birth of the king who established the nation. It was such a large event that the royal healers couldn’t handle the huge number of attendees, so each of the healing centers would send healers to assist. As Lance had pointed out, it was indeed an incredible honor to be chosen to be dispatched to the royal festival, as it was an acknowledgment of the healer’s skills.

“It is an even greater honor to participate as a mere apprentice, as opportunities like these are reserved for only the most promising of apprentices. Given your successful treatment of the hematemesis patient, I believe you are qualified enough to be there.”

Raymond clenched his jaw with frustration, anger surging through his entire body. You asshole.

Needless to say, Lance wasn’t offering him a valuable opportunity. On the contrary, he intended to back Raymond into the worst of corners, driving him into a living nightmare.

The memories of his past torments in the palace echoed in Raymond’s mind, haunting him.

“You worthless piece of filth.”

“Why were you even born, you wretched waste?”

“Just die already. Hm? You still aren’t dead?”

In the past, Raymond had lived a hellish existence in the palace. His life at the Bellund Infirmary was no walk in the park either, but this suffering was heaven in comparison to what he’d endured in the palace. It was a brutal, desperate time.

Raymond had been made to go through this agony for one reason alone—that he was the king’s bastard.

“Your existence is a stain on Father’s honor.”

The Shadow Prince. That was what they’d called him.

***

There were several reasons Raymond was treated so cruelly despite being the king’s son.

First, the Kingdom of Huston’s traditions dictated it. While many countries were unkind to children born out of wedlock, the Kingdom of Huston was exceptionally so. In accordance with the ideals of the founding king, the kingdom valued the code of chivalry above all else, and that code rejected bastards utterly. Consequently, the Kingdom of Huston denied them not only the right to inherit, but their very existence as well. More precisely, it regarded bastards as impure beings who should never have been born, oppressing and tormenting them as if they were foul monsters.

Raymond suffered even worse for being the bastard of the king, the noblest of all men. He was seen as a repulsive stain on the king’s dignity—despicable just for existing. Of course, his situation might’ve been different if the king had chosen to protect him, but his father had never once shown him a shred of consideration.

Initially, when Raymond had first arrived at Bellund, people had been afraid to cross him. But as time passed and he continued to display his shortcomings, while the royal household demonstrated a complete indifference toward him, everyone had begun to walk all over him.

“The king’s filthy bastard.”

“The only blot on the great king’s name, better off dead.”

These were the labels people had given him. But dispatching me to the royal festival? Raymond’s heart sank. Although he typically never spoke back to anyone of higher status, this time he was shaken enough that he couldn’t bring himself to keep quiet. “Is it really necessary to send me?”

“Why? You don’t want to go?” Lance replied with a smile that seemed to say, What can you do about it? He then added, “Senior Raymond, as you are already aware, the completion of your apprenticeship depends on my decision. If you wish to remain an apprentice indefinitely, then do as you please.”

Lance had clearly made up his mind. Raymond clenched his fists, a strong urge to beat that wretched ratface to a pulp coursing through him. Seriously, should I?

But just as he was contemplating this, a message appeared.

[Surprise Quest!]

<Guardian of the Banquet>

(Medical Quest)

Rank: Half Scalpel

Difficulty: High

Quest Description: With so many people gathering at the banquet, there’s no telling what kind of medical emergencies might arise. As a healer on duty, work to keep the event casualty-free!

Clear Conditions: Get through the banquet without any fatalities

Reward: Bonus level up x3, 30 skill points

Perks: A certain someone’s goodwill, a small amount of fame

Raymond blinked in puzzlement. Why is the reward so generous? Three whole level-ups and 30 skill points? That was a whole three times more than the previous quest, <Cure your first-ever patient!>.

Is something serious going to happen during the banquet? He couldn’t know for sure, but the quest’s difficulty rating of “High” left him feeling uneasy. After all, would a peaceful event without any casualties be considered high in difficulty?