09 — Merratoni’s Top Healer, Bottaculli

The Healer’s Guild, a society of those with the ability to wield Holy Magic, founded with the sole purpose of saving lives, was the product of the efforts of Lord Reinstar and his companions.

In the beginning, healing was compensated by charitable donations, and the local population grew in response to their services. These donations consisted not only of money, but of fruits, vegetables, daily necessities... Anything was accepted, so long as it was given with good intentions.

However, as the population ballooned, men began to squabble and war with one another. The healers began to prioritize their services to the downtrodden. These two events became the catalysts for significant change in the world.

War sent more and more to their deaths, the population declined, and healers became nothing more than tools. Thus, Lord Reinstar and his companions set out to establish their own nation of healers, a nation that would see great prosperity. That is, until its founders passed on.

The remaining healers were not all of the same mind. Many were furious, contemptuous, of the abuse and hatred flung at them when their life-saving magic failed to deliver. And so, healers from every branch around the world revolted by going on strike. As a result, prices were left at the mercy of individual healers, and the guild was powerless beyond only the most extreme circumstances, relegated to mere grimoire-selling and tax collection.

Dues were used to cover expenses, as well as wages for staff members, leaving no funds for the establishment of new clinics or the operation of the orphanage. This gave rise to the “greedy healer,” an archetype that saw only reinforcement as time went on.

This was what Brod told me about the state of healers in the world. His explanation was for good reason—two months had passed since my official employment at the Adventurer’s Guild and my life was currently in danger.

“I can’t believe someone out there hates my guts just for being alive.”

During my time at the guild, I’d saved all sorts of adventurers. Unfortunately, the clinics I had apparently been “stealing business” from were losing profits, so they dug into the reason and there I was. Since I had set up shop at and was a member of the Adventurer’s Guild, assassination wasn’t a major concern, but, as reported by Galba, the city’s top money-grubber was on the move, so anything could happen.

“That’s why I’m setting you up with bodyguards any time you need to leave from now on,” Brod said, clearly not realizing that I’d never even set foot outside under such circumstances.

Yeah, not likely.

“It’s just so weird to think about there suddenly being people out there who want me dead. Like, out of nowhere.”

“I’ll bet. But don’t forget, you’ve got just as many, if not more, people on your side, ready to lend a hand. The staff, the adventurers... You’ve got a family that’s glad to have ya. All the work you’ve put in wasn’t for nothing. You’re sitting pretty.”

That was certainly a plus. Mercenaries in this world were essentially assassins, and there were distinctly fewer of them than adventurers. They were also considered generally weaker. And with the Lineage of the White Wolf as my personal guard, virtually no one could get near me. My instructor himself was a calming presence, too, of course.

“Well, it’s not like I’m doing anything wrong. Still, if someone’s after my life, I’ll need all the training I can get.”

“You’re the weirdest healer I’ve ever met, y’know that? In a good way.” He grinned at me like an insane, battle-crazed maniac. I had to remind myself not to think about that the next time we were fighting.

“I’m just me. By the way, where did you get the info that I was being targeted?”

“Townsfolk, adventurers, people who’re sick of other healers besides you.”

“Really? Even citizens?”

“Right. ’Course, that info came with the condition you’d start healing them along with your usual patients.”

“What?” I’d been healing townspeople? Since when? Wait, there was that old lady in full armor and the old man in the robe. Now, that was some serious cosplay.

I must have missed them, since I’d stopped paying close attention to people after learning Area Heal.

“What, you think people give intel for free?”

Reading between the lines, I assumed he was trying to tell me that you did what you had to do to get information.

“Sure, I can heal them,” I sighed. “Just make sure I’m properly guarded, please.”

“Not a problem.”

I felt relieved, letting him handle the fighting. Was that related to my ongoing losing streak in some way? Perhaps.

“So, do we have any idea who’s got the grudge against me?”

“We do. The director of the biggest clinic in Merratoni, Bottaculli.”

The name rang a bell. It didn’t take long for me to recall that it was the man we’d suspected of trying to have Monica killed.

“The city’s most powerful man can’t stand a single newbie healer? Talk about a Napoleon complex. But that could mean Monica’s in danger, too. He was probably the one who sent the assassin after her.”

“I heard about that at the time, but everything was just conjecture back then. He made sure the guy kept his mouth shut. Also, I’m trying to figure out what you mean by ‘Napoleon,’ but I’m comin’ up short.”

“Gah!” Critical hit by an unintentional dad joke.

“Hey, you all right?”

Aside from the gaping wound in my heart, yes. I’d better watch what I say in the future.

“Y-Yeah. Anyway, are there no clinics on my side?”

“I’m sure some of ’em support you in spirit, even if they can’t go public with it. Your honest rates and the fact you give them upfront are good things.”

“How’s my reputation, anyway?”

“Good with adventurers. You do your job well and treat everyone respectfully. We got lots of requests from regular townsfolk asking to come by for healing, too.”

Apparently, we were already healing townsfolk. Then again, it was thanks to them we had learned about the assassination plot before I ended up with a knife in my back. Give and take, as they say.

“Wait, then have I already treated quite a few of them at this point?”

“Noticed, huh? Word’s gotten around about a healer who’ll treat people for a single silver coin without squeezin’ their wallets dry.”

For a moment, I had been worried about Brod’s plan, about whether he had intended to completely crush the clinics, but that price was higher than expected.

“Er, isn’t a silver pretty expensive?” It came off as pretty overpriced to me. It wasn’t like I was giving each and every one of them my undivided attention, after all. If a single Heal cost a silver, at the going rate, fifty copper for Area Heal felt more appropriate.

Coach tilted his head and raised his eyebrow. “I thought I told Nanaella and the girls to teach you common sense.”

“Hey, I might be a healer, but I’m still a complete novice. I’ve just barely started my second year.”

And what a great place I was in for that second year. Not just for my healing skills, but for improving my general knowledge as well. There were books of all genres here, covering all sorts of topics, which I could read at my leisure while asking anyone if I had questions.

I had been worried for the guild staff at first, seeing as they interacted with the big, scary adventurers I had been so afraid of, but it took something more than pencil-pushing to hold a position at the guild office. Everyone here had a wealth of knowledge and experience. It was a veritable gathering of minds. And in a world without many options in the way of pastimes, reading was how I relaxed, so I’d learned a lot over the course of a year.

Despite the grueling training I had endured, I was a skittish person at my core. I’d once feared for my life whenever those gruff adventurers came looking for help. No matter how used to casting Heal I had become, I would enunciate every single syllable of the chant, the thought that I might die if I failed filling my mind. I would drill, practice, and visualize every single day.

Then, a year later, my fear vanished entirely, but I didn’t let it go to my head. Another thought occurred to me: What if this is how I live a safe life? Healing adventurers, whoever needs it, honestly and reliably.

The fire this thought would light in me, and the hard work it would inspire, continued to bear fruit even to this day. But without a doubt, the number-one thing that kept me going was the environment I worked in. It was nothing like the hell I’d seen doctors endure on TV shows. There were no all-nighters, no collapsing from overwork. Rather, we were all in it together. Everyone helped each other.

My new life wasn’t a bad one. Brod understood all this, the story behind my words. After a pensive moment, he smiled.

“Yeah, you’re right. I guess I’ve gotta make sure my temps can survive, don’t I? Starting today, we’re upping the weapons diversity in your curriculum.”

“Um, you don’t need to get excited,” I stammered. “Hey, don’t pull me! Are you even listening? Coach! Hey, Coach!”

Off I went to the underground training grounds, dragged along by the neck of my shirt. The staff and adventurers, unfazed, looked on with little interest. They’d seen this act a million times before.

Days later, on an afternoon like any other, I was focused on my Martial Arts and Ambulation practice, getting my butt handed to me by my instructor, when an authoritative voice stole my attention.

“Are you this guild’s healer?” it demanded.

I turned and saw a rotund man accompanied by two bulky guards making his way towards me. The other adventurers at the training ground immediately stepped between us, blocking his path. Who was this man? I’d never seen him before in my life.

“You deaf, kid?” one of the mercenaries shouted. He had some nerve to talk big like that while surrounded by this many people.

“And who might you be?” I replied calmly. “I don’t recall being acquainted with hooligans who show up without so much as an appointment just to cause a ruckus.”

I’d let my frustration get the better of me. My body ached and I was not in the mood. I had no reason to answer someone who had failed to offer the common courtesy of providing their own name. This pudgy man, come to waste my valuable time, must have been Bottaculli. With my instructor and the others nearby, I wasn’t afraid. I had free rein to stand my ground.

“I see you’re not only cheeky but dim-witted, too, you brat. Listen, and listen well, because I’ll only say this once. I am the director of the largest clinic in all of Merratoni, Bottaculli!”

“Botticelli?”

“Bottaculli, you insolent little...! I am giving you an order. Cease your healing at the Adventurer’s Guild. Do so and I’ll hire you at my own clinic. I’ve taken time out of my busy day specifically to tell you this in person.”

What healer in their right mind would be swayed by the smug smirk of some fat, old guy?

“I’m very sorry, but I can’t do that,” I politely replied. “This is my official posting from the Healer’s Guild. It’s out of my hands. Though to be fair, I suppose I’d decline regardless, since I’m here for a reason.”

Botticel— Bottaculli’s face turned a vibrant shade of red. “Now listen here, whelp. I’m giving you this chance out of the kindness of my heart. If you mean to turn your nose up—”

He went no further. The adventurers around me were staring cold, hard daggers at him and his bodyguards, making sure the intruders were well aware of just how unwelcome they were.

“You threaten me and try to steal me away from my workplace and call that kindness? I can’t comply with your order, but I would love to offer you a dictionary, if you like.”

Evidently, his inability to speak didn’t mean that he was incapable of glowering. The healer hid none of the fury behind his own glare, his face somehow growing even redder.

The hired help with him stood by, awaiting orders. Their presence proved that he had mercenaries under his command, and validated Brod’s decision to have guards with me if I ever went out.

“Why are you being so pushy about me going to your clinic?”

His visibly boiling blood seemed to cool somewhat. “Since your arrival at the Adventurer’s Guild, my clinics have seen fewer and fewer patients.”

“Are you marketing properly? Clinics are supposed to help people. And I don’t think anyone wants help from a place with a bad reputation. Also, what are you complaining about? Are you a child? I highly recommend you learn some business sense.”

“Are you saying my clinic has a bad reputation?!” he yelled.

All the rumors said so. However, his clinic was still the biggest in town, and had no shortage of patients.

“I never said that. I just believe in common sense. People want to go to a clinic that treats them with respect, somewhere they can be attended to promptly and with honest, transparent pricing.”

“You think you can lecture me on how to run my business?”

“No, not at all. Why would I lecture a man I’ve only just met? Has something I’ve said hit home, maybe?”

“You worthless little ant! A greenhorn healer like you is nothing to me! I could crush you in an instant!” he cried, the veins on his forehead bulging.

In his world, I was an invader, and he was at least somewhat justified in thinking that. At first, I had been conflicted. I knew I had to have been hurting clinics all around town with what I was doing. But the extortion, the slavery, it was all but denying others the right to live, no different from rejecting a peaceful coexistence.

I decided to hear him out. I had allies all around to protect me, so I wanted to use this chance to glean some understanding of Bottaculli’s way of thinking.

“Right, you’re a far more experienced healer than I am and the director of Merratoni’s largest clinic. I’m interested in hearing some of your wisdom, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Hm. Very well.” Like taking candy from a baby. His smug aura had returned in an instant. “For my own reference, what magic would you use to mend a patient with, say, broken bones or a serious illness?”

“Listen and be amazed, for my clinics employ those, such as myself, with the ability to cast the advanced healing spell High Heal. That is what we use. For the price of just thirty gold coins, it’s practically a steal.”

He talked so big that you’d expect him to float away from all the hot air in his head, but if he could use High Heal, he had surely undergone a good deal of training. What had once driven him to study magic? And now he charged thirty gold for a single spell? He was right about it being ‘a steal,’ just not in the sense he meant.

“What about, for example, an adventurer who’s bleeding from a Forest Wolf bite?”

“High Heal, of course. The patient, I assume, would prefer to be healed entirely.”

“But what if they don’t have the money?”

“Now that, I can’t divulge. We have our ways of getting the compensation we’re owed.”

“Like selling them to slavers from other countries?”

Bottaculli’s expression immediately soured. An intimidating aura emanated from his mercenaries. Compared to Brod’s, though? It was like a gentle breeze.

“Well, never mind. Would Heal or Middle Heal not be sufficient for that type of injury?”

“Why should I lower myself to perform such basic level magic? Are the patients’ financial circumstances any of my concern? They come to my clinic looking for help, so we offer it. They have no right to complain,” he stated without the slightest trace of a conscience.

And this was the man who had built up Merratoni’s top clinic.

“Humor me a little. Wouldn’t it be more profitable to consider each case, use the appropriate magic, and help as many people as possible?”

“How naive. We are healers, not slaves. Why should we busy ourselves with work that doesn’t pay?”

“You’ll earn nothing but animosity with thinking like that. Is magic not a gift from the Goddess meant to save lives?”

The egg-shaped man chuckled. “Naive, boy, naive. Just like I used to be. You haven’t experienced the contempt and abuse yet, have you? The clamoring for your healing when you’re starved of magic. The slander, despite your sincerest efforts.”

Bottaculli could use High Heal. He wasn’t a novice; he’d been through the training. There may have been a time long ago when he had been admired and respected for his profession. It was a shame. A damn shame.

“I can’t say I have. Sure, maybe that would make me lose my faith in people.”

“You see? Come to my clinic. We’ll treat you well.”

“But I have to wonder if you were really that backed into a corner. Were you truly so antagonized by every single person around you? You didn’t have a single friend? A single hand to reach out to? Have you spared even a thought for the families of the people you threw into slavery?”

“Don’t talk to me like you know who I am, wretch!”

I had stepped on a landmine and Bottaculli was beside himself with fury. Nothing I said would make any difference now. Yet I was still hoping to find some good within that was clinging on, deep down in his heart, and continued.

“The fact that you can cast High Heal means you clearly have the skill, but patients still don’t come. So why do you not consider that the issue might lie with your own management? The way you do things brings nothing but misery to others.”

Silence followed...but only temporarily.

“Have you said what you needed to say? Good. Because my compassion has run dry. You’ve well and truly enraged me.” Bottaculli turned to the mercenaries. “Kill him! I don’t care how, I want his head!”

That very instant, I felt a breeze blow by me. The mercenaries had stopped moving. Or rather, they couldn’t move. Faster than I could blink, Brod had brought daggers to both of the men’s throats. One wrong step and they were done for...and they knew it. They were leagues apart in skill.

Even without Brod, there was no shortage of adventurers around me, each now radiating an aura of such intensity that I didn’t need to be the target of their ire to notice.

Brod’s anger, however, was on a whole other level. The color had completely drained from the hirelings’ faces. “Name’s Brod, of the Adventurer’s Guild. Sir Bottaculli, how would you like it if I conducted an investigation into those clinics of yours? I’m a little interested in your finances, I gotta say. Maybe I’ll find some skeletons in your closet,” he growled.

Bottaculli, now shaking like a leaf, wasted no time. He let out a pitiful shriek, then bolted up the stairs as fast as he could. The mercenaries didn’t wait either, and quickly followed their boss the second Brod let them go.

“Wow, that was amazing!” I cheered. “You scared him off like it was nothing. I never stop being impressed by you, Coach. And the rest of you, too. Thank you for standing up for me.”

My companions looked rather on edge, so I took care to thank them from a safe distance. As I lowered my head, everyone went back to their own business like nothing had even happened.

“So, that was the big boss who hates my existence? I can’t believe he just marched right in here. I get the impression he used to be a decent healer, though.”

“Yeah, but now he’s a grubby penny-pincher who extorts people and throws them into slavery,” Brod spat. “Doesn’t matter what he was before.”

“True.”

Maybe something had happened in the past to make him distrust others, but that was then. Extortionate pricing and debt enslavement were probably happening all over the world right now, so what was Guild Headquarters doing sitting on their hands for so long?

“I wonder why things like this are allowed to happen. There really should be laws in place,” I mused.

“Some healers actually hide their prices ’till after it’s all said and done, then make you out as a criminal for not paying. It’s rough.”

“Anything goes, I suppose. Lord Reinstar must be rolling in his grave.” Not that I had ever met the guy.

“Those sick healers who scam people into debt are no better than criminals,” Brod snarled.

I finally understood why the Healer’s Guild was so disliked. And I, a healer, had just waltzed up to the Adventurer’s Guild looking for a job. I genuinely owed Brod a lot.

“Sounds like it’s a deep-rooted problem.”

“Yeah. I’m glad an airhead like you was the one who showed up here.”

“I can’t tell whether I’m being complimented or not, but I’m glad you hired me, too.”

If I had started out working at Bottaculli’s place, I might’ve ended up being tainted by him. Or maybe I would have protested like Monica and eventually been assassinated.

“Yeah? Well, anyway, if you didn’t before, you’ve definitely got a target on your back now.”

“Why do you seem happy about that?” I laughed. “You like fighting that much? I guess it’s better for us to be on guard from now on. I’m not a fan of assassins.”

“The guild’ll keep ya safe. I’ll have eyes on your room, too, so you just keep doing what you’re doing. You’re with the Adventurer’s Guild. You couldn’t ask for a better group of people to watch your back.”

His overwhelming confidence was reassuring. “I’ll leave it to you, then. Let’s pick up our session where we left off, if you don’t mind.”

“You got it. We’re gonna ramp up the difficulty now that you’ll really have people comin’ for you.”

“As long as it doesn’t kill me, please and thank you.”

And so, the screams of anguish below the Adventurer’s Guild began to grow in frequency. In between sessions, I found myself thinking about Bottaculli’s past. How, if my healing ever stopped being enough, the people’s affection for me might turn to hatred.

New thoughts occupied my mind: thoughts of Merratoni’s top healer, Bottaculli, of the Healer’s Guild, and of the clinics and the healers who worked there.

＊

Bottaculli, having fled with his tail between his legs, vented his anger on the two mercenaries and his head slave.

“Damn that child, making a fool of me! He brandishes his ‘righteousness’ as if he understands the way the world works. I won’t let him get away with it. You buffoons, find out as much as you can about him, every detail, no matter how small. If the chance presents itself, kill him.”

The mercenaries could not reply. Bottaculli was evidently unaware of Brod’s constant proximity to their target. The two were virtually never apart and that alone made the job a troublesome one.

“Sir Bottaculli, trying to threaten or trap him’s not gonna be easy,” one stated carefully, so as not to incur more of his employer’s wrath. “He’s totally surrounded by the guild, and that monster never leaves his side. We can’t touch the guy.”

“Yes, I know! Just shut up and do what you’re told!”

The two hirelings looked relieved that their master understood the obstacle Brod posed. However, they still had very little intel to go on regarding Luciel. He was a healer who shut himself up in the Adventurer’s Guild. Despite his age, his skills were exceptional. His relationships and acquaintances extended no further than those within the guild. That was all they knew about him.

“But Sir, if we kill him, you’ll be the first one people suspect. Even if you were innocent, the adventurers would immediately turn on you.”

“Yes, yes, I told you, I’m aware!”

“All right, well, this isn’t necessarily good news, but he’s only stationed there for a year at most. We just gotta make it so he has to leave town after that.”

“Idiot, you think I’ll wait that long? Why’s that twerp even wasting his time with those cheapskates in the first place? You, find out more about him at the Healer’s and Adventurer’s Guilds.”

“Understood,” replied the slave, promptly departing.

“I need to ask the guild’s director whether the boy can be recalled mid-tenure. That won’t work if the Adventurer’s Guild can’t be bought off, though. There has to be another way.”

The portly healer fell deep into thought.