Arcanist In Another World

Chapter 88: Orientation Over

Night fell by the time they finished with the other houses. All different cases with eerie similarities between them, mainly the victims being widowed women who suffered from terrible losses in recent years. Vulnerable souls who sought a final nudge to do something forbidden.

Mas and Garran’s report was more or less the same when they met back up in the company office. They

“Dirty work. What a present for all the shit we’ve gone through in the country.” Garran shook his head. “That ain’t going to be easy, Captain. They already hate each other’s guts in those slums. You think they’re going to speak?”

"Show them the stick, that'll work," Mas said. "That's the only language they speak."

"We're not brutes," Percival interfered. "And we can't just beat anyone looking mildly suspicious. There's a reason why police don't go chasing people in the slums."

“Percival is right. Find another way,” the Captain commanded, then glanced at Valens. “That includes you, Healer. I declare your orientation is over as of today. Prepare to get your hands dirty, and know that I have my expectations about you. A Hexmender available at hand… That’s a privilege we haven’t had before. Use your skills.”

Mas was glaring at him while Garran gave him that grin of his. Valens, though, was more interested in the notion that he would be playing the detective alone in a giant city like Belgrave.

But I don’t want to go knocking on one door after another. The city’s too big for that. I need a different perspective here… Ah, I found it!

“All of my skills?” Valens probed.

Captain Edric looked puzzled, shifting on his chair before asking, “What do you have in mind?”

“Well, during my short time in the city, I happened to notice a most depressing reality,” Valens said.

“And that is?” Captain Edric said.

“The poor are suffering harder than the rich,” Valens said. He straightened his back and moved on with a serious tone, “Crowds, I saw before those churches. Hundreds of people are seeking a cure, but only a few are finding one. There’s a terrible shortage of Priests in this city, Captain.”

“There’s a shortage of any kind of healer wherever you go in Haven’s Reach,” Mas said, the veins across his neck bulging. “Even in the Caligian Lands, the poor are suffering. That has nothing to do with Priests.”

“You might be right,” Valens shrugged. “But I wasn’t trying to take a stab at the… practice you’re doing here. I was merely stating a truth. If the Captain wants us to get into the slums, I’d say there’s no better way than bringing a Healer to their door.”

“That’s forbidden—”

“Mas, shut it.” Captain Edric didn’t even look the man in the eye, but instead glanced at Valens. “You want to heal those people? That’s a fine line to walk here, Valens. You’re aware that Baht did exactly the same thing back in the day, right?”

“Well, Baht wasn’t a member of the Golden Ward, and I’m guessing there hasn’t been a serial killer out murdering innocent women in those days,” Valens said. “And I don’t want to sneak my way into the slums and rally people to some cause. If we want these people to trust us enough to spill everything they know, then I think we need a base, some place to bring them in and learn about them without making them suspicious.”

“A base?” Garran asked.

“A clinic,” Valens nodded. “Have the sick delivered to my doorstep. This way, not only can I earn their trust, but I can search for their souls to see if they’re involved in any dark business.”

The air in the room changed as faces creased in consideration.

Valens knew it was risky, but he was speaking the truth. This way not only could he heal those sick kids, he could also get a sense of what was truly happening in the slums. After the sight that welcomed him in Knuckle Alley, he was sure that the poor ring of the city wasn’t somewhere where either the King or the Church cared much for.

That’s just basic common sense. If you neglect a community of people, then you can’t be shocked when they turn against you.

“We can have some of our guys there as assistants to keep things in check,” he added then, for good measure, which prompted Mas to give him a surprised look.

Yes, my zealous friend. No need to be too suspicious of me. We’re in the same line of work here.

But of course, the clinic plan wasn’t just about the murders of those women. No, his Trial told him that shadows were gathering in Belgrave, and the members of the Midnight Assembly also mentioned strange things were happening in the poor ring of the city.

Two birds with one stone. That’s as good as it gets.

“Do it,” Captain Edric said, breaking the silence. He got a few looks from the others, a wide-eyed stare from Mas, but he waved them off. “I’ll speak with the Bishop about the deal and the funds. In the meantime, find a place in the slums.”

“I’ll—”

“Find a good place,” the Captain said over him, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t make it too obvious. Keep it small, as well. We can’t have people thinking a single Healer is better than a group of Priests.”

“Eh,” Garran grinned. “It’s true, though.”

“Uh,” Dain grunted.

“So I’ve heard,” Percival nodded.

Captain Edric rubbed his face tiredly. “That’s not what we’re talking about here. Get your heads out of your asses and make yourselves useful. I’m tired of carrying this team all by myself.”

“The old man is speaking,” Garran muttered. “There he is.”

“He is back,” Percival sighed. “It was about time.”

“Go!” Captain Edric thumped a fist on the table, then trudged briskly off toward the door, paused, and gave a look over his shoulder to Valens. “Be here tomorrow, and bring the Wailborn, too. Might as well put her to good use. I don’t want her rotting in that house.”

Really?

Then the Captain… smiled and walked off.

Was that an act? The inner politics of this team are a bit complicated, aren’t they?

In a few seconds, the others rushed out, with Percival picking up the sheets scattered about the tables. “They have no respect for the craft,” he was mumbling, entirely unaware that Valens was still there, staring at the door in shock. “Illiterate men… They will be the end of us.”

Did I just convince the Captain to open a clinic for me? Speak with the Bishop, will he? Secure funds for the operation, did he say? Is this what it feels like to be supported?

It was, for the lack of a better word, glorious. Being appreciated was like no other drug.

We have work to do. Before that, though, I should tell Selin the news. I wonder what she would think when she learns I’ve gotten her a job in the Church.

Not precisely the Church, of course, but a place established to fork out information from the poor while masquerading itself as a free-of-charge health clinic was too long of an explanation to Valens’s thinking.

I’ll just say it’s a clinic. That’s better. Have the Captain explain if there’s ever a need for it.

.....