Suteko Ni Narimashita 20

Carp were highly sought after. 

I found myself by the river again, hoping to catch these medicinal fish. 

Though tempting to catch as many as possible, I limited myself to five daily to ensure sustainability. 

After all, the demand for these fish only spiked during the Three-Day Fever season. If the species didn’t go extinct, their numbers should naturally replenish over time.

On my fishing expeditions, I also encountered Ratgalus. 

These creatures, which behaved somewhat like chickens, weren’t particularly challenging to handle. 

This applied to most enemies that didn’t wield magic. 

Whenever I came across such foes, I’d immobilize them with Telekinesis, swiftly decapitate them, and that would be the end of it. As long as I stayed alert to potential ambushes, I was in the clear.

After several days of fishing and hunting, I found myself at the Stone Shop with a lingering question: “Are the prices going to drop soon?”

The shopkeeper crossed his arms and briefly contemplated before grunting a brief response. 

“Yes… Prices are likely to dip soon.”

The reason was apparent: it had been over ten days since the disease outbreak. 

The period for preventive measures had ended, and it was now time for treatments if any were still needed. 

“This year’s outbreak seems milder than usual, so I don’t anticipate much need for treatment,” he explained.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, largely thanks to you,” the shopkeeper said, grinning broadly.

“What did I do…?” I asked, puzzled.

“Because you’ve supplied us with abundant healing fish, we have more than enough to meet demand. So, no shortages this year.”

“So, are you losing money then?” I inquired, concerned.

“Not in the least,” the shopkeeper chuckled, puffing out his chest in pride. 

“We sold out well in advance. Even considering yesterday’s sales, we’ve made unprecedented profits this year.”

He continued, “You’re fortunate to have come here before heading out to hunt today. Starting today, the selling price will decrease slightly.”

“Lucky me…” I mused. 

In matters like these, I usually had no clue, so luck was a good thing to have.

“So, what’s your plan? Would you like me to recommend another type of prey to hunt?” he asked.

After a moment’s thought, I replied, “No, I think I’ll take a little break today.”

“How unusual,” the shopkeeper noted, a hint of surprise coloring his tone.

Recently, I’ve noticed the shopkeeper becoming increasingly expressive. 

“I know,” I said, clearing my throat. “I’m not feeling well today.”

Upon hearing this, the shopkeeper paused momentarily before responding, “I see.”

I bought a blanket from the Stone Shop and returned to bed. 

I wasn’t feeling up to par today. 

While I could still move around, I felt a bit dizzy and had the chills. 

Had I caught a cold? It was an unusual experience; I had never been sick before. 

So, I decided to take the day off. 

Fortunately, I had some savings to fall back on.

As soon as I snuggled under my new blanket and closed my eyes, sleep enveloped me almost instantly. 

It’s so cold…

I woke up in the middle of the night, parched and thirsty. 

Considering that I had been out cold since noon, it was evident that I was genuinely run down.

I grabbed the water bag I had filled in the morning and drained it entirely. The water tasted lovely, likely due to my parched throat. I’d need to fetch more water.

A well was at the edge of the slums, constructed by the community for its residents. 

Although it was a simple structure, it was carefully maintained. Anyone who dared to misuse or contaminate it would face collective wrath.

Drawing water should have been a simple task, but as I pulled the rope, my entire body screamed in pain. It was the unbearable ache often associated with joint pain. On top of that, I was pretty sure I was running a fever. Every movement made my vision blur, and I started seeing stars. 

This was not a good sign.

I had considered using magic to alleviate my symptoms, but I didn’t know the appropriate spells.

It seemed I had no other option. 

I resolved to buy medicine from the Stone Shop in the morning. 

In hindsight, I should have purchased it earlier.

***

“There’s no medicine,” the shopkeeper declared upon seeing my sorry state.

“Cough… None?” I rasped, my throat aching.

“I didn’t order any because it doesn’t sell well in the slums,” the shopkeeper explained, his expression tinged with exasperation.

“You should’ve eaten one yourself when you caught them,” the shopkeeper chided.

“What…? What are you talking about?” I asked, my mind foggy from illness.

“It’s obvious. You’ve contracted the Three-Days Fever.”

“Are you serious…?” A wave of realization washed over me. 

“Did you know all along?”

“Not really. When you mentioned feeling unwell yesterday, I assumed it was just a common cold. I thought you were being cautious.”

“I see…” I paused, contemplating my following words. 

“If I have the Three-Days Fever, is there a risk of me infecting you?”

“I’ve taken precautions,” he assured me. 

Given his line of work, which involved interacting with people daily, it made sense that he’d be careful.

“So… Can you arrange for some medicine?” I asked.

“I can, but it won’t be here until tomorrow morning,” the shopkeeper replied, contemplating the situation.

“That’s fine…” I started to say, but he interrupted me.

“No, wait. Hold on a moment,” he said, narrowing one eye and furrowing his brow. 

“I’ll arrange for a guide to take you to a clinic instead.”

“…A guide?” I questioned. 

Not medicine?

“Go get treated at a clinic; the cost will be the same as buying medicine. You’ll likely feel better by the end of the day.”

“But—” I hesitated. 

There were no such healthcare facilities in the slums, so the clinic he referred to must be in the city. 

“I’d rather not go to the city.”

“Just go, it’s fine,” he insisted.

The shopkeeper vanished into a back room, jotting something down on paper. I heard the sound of a window being opened, and when he returned, the note he’d written was gone, indicating he had already sent a message to someone. 

His directive was forceful and reassuring, so I decided it would be best to follow it. 

Sighing, I sat down and leaned against the wall to wait.

After about 20 minutes, the shop door creaked open. 

While the store naturally welcomed customers, it was apparent that the person who had just entered was not one of them.

“You’ve arrived,” the shopkeeper greeted him.

“It’s been a while. What’s the task for today?” said a softly-spoken man in his forties, dressed in a green cloak.

The shopkeeper pointed at me and casually instructed the man, “Take him to the clinic. The closest one, situated at the border between the Twelfth District and the Fifth District, will do.”

“Understood,” the man in the cloak replied.

The man turned toward me, his face adorned with a layer of stubble, and said, “Alright, young man, come with me.”

It seemed I was expected to follow this stranger. 

“You won’t need to pay a guide fee, but you’ll have to cover the treatment costs yourself,” the shopkeeper announced before settling back into his chair with a resounding thud.

“…How much would that be?” I inquired.

“About three silver coins. They won’t ask for it, but please consider donating. For more details, consult your guide here.” 

The shopkeeper gestured toward the man with a tilt of his chin, who then nodded in acknowledgment.

“Understood,” I muttered, albeit begrudgingly.

The shopkeeper was an enigma, leaving me with more questions than answers. However, given my present condition, I barely had the energy to formulate a coherent response, let alone press for more information. 

And so, once again, I found myself heading into the city.