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Translator: penny
Chapter: 259
Chapter Title: Hassan Goes to the Auction House #6
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“Aigoo, aigoo, I’m dying, you bastard—! I’m dying! This, this barbarian fucker’s trying to kill me!”
As I firmly pressed down on his lower back, the old man—who had been hunched over and groaning—let out a scream.
“Y-You goddamn barbarian bastard! Honey! People! This fucker, this fucker’s trying to kill me! You bastard! You’re one of Pluto’s minions, aren’t you! Trying to send me to the afterlife! Did Pluto order you?!”
I’d only placed my palm lightly on his lower back, but he was reacting with such extreme sensitivity.
“Do you know who I am?! Even though I’m barely scraping by these days, back when I was young, I’d grab barbarians like you one in each hand—!”
“Yes, sir. Then show some grit and tough it out.”
It seemed his nerves had frayed with age, and his herniated disc had advanced quite a bit. His overall vital energy felt badly misaligned too.
I focused my energy into both thumbs. Concentrating everything into the tips, a tingling sensation soon rose from my lower abdomen, traveling through my chest and shoulders before gathering in my thumbs.
“Oop! Ooop—!?”
Apparently, that strange sensation wasn’t just mine. The old man, who had been furious enough to swing his cane at me moments ago, now let out an odd exclamation.
“Ooooh, ooop! Ooop!”
Even to me, it sounded incredibly bizarre, but I had no time to worry about that. It felt like strength was being drained from my entire body, and sweat poured down my forehead like rain, stinging my eyes.
But as my consciousness grew hazy, I focused even harder on my thumbs. Life is surprisingly resilient; it can detect and repair its own issues on its own. Physical therapy merely helps the body find its way back.
My hands simply aided the flow of life force.
With that mindset, I pressed down firmly with my thumbs—.
“Hiyooooook!”
The old man finally let out a yelp like a dog’s howl and collapsed limp onto the bed.
*Ding-.*
『You have alleviated Pons Dode’s severe lower back pain and the curse of old age.』
『Karma Value +50』
『Current Karma Value +210』
And before my eyes floated the now-familiar text, along with the mark of acquired Karma Value.
“Phew-.”
Only then could I finally catch my breath. I’d only pressed his back for about five minutes, but it felt like I’d poured every ounce of my concentration into it. My mind felt utterly burned out, empty.
This sensation reminded me strongly of the time I’d pushed my limits with Necromancy, resurrecting skeletons to test my boundaries.
Tingling.
I was now fairly certain that the energy lingering in my palms was the aura—or mana—that Hippolyte and the other warriors talked about. And I’d realized that the amount I could emit was quite limited.
It consumed a fair bit of stamina and focus.
Even just emitting it from my thumbs took this much out of me. I couldn’t even imagine how much training and tempering it would take to wrap it around a sword as blade aura.
The more levels Hippolyte—who was starting to look like the girl next door—passed through, the more I truly appreciated the immense effort she must have put in to become so strong.
Swooo.
As I steadied my energy and breathing, Pons the old man—who had been sprawled on the floor moments ago—sat up.
“Y-You little shit! How dare you, how dare you try to kill me?!”
He stood from his seat and swung the cane he held toward my head. Feeling a tingle on my crown, I ducked, and the cane whistled past overhead.
“Y-You bastard! Dodging my sword strike! You punk! You think I’m some cripple who can’t even stand straight?!”
The old man was absolutely livid. To an outsider, chiropractic or spinal manipulation just looks like torture—pressing joints or cracking bones.
Even the efficacy of such treatments was debated, and they weren’t covered by health insurance until around 2020, I think.
Swish-, swish-.
As I dodged his attacks left and right, his wrinkled face flushed red with genuine rage.
“You little punk! Stop dodging, you bastard! Just take one hit, one hit. Just one—.”
But what stopped him was the laughter of the one-shot healer, Mana.
“Grandpa, you’re standing up straight right now!”
“What?”
Only then did the old man seem to realize his back was rigidly straight. And not only that—his lower half was sporting a fairly healthy erection.
“I-I’m standing—. I’m—.”
The old man soon looked down at his lower body and said,
“Old friend, it’s been a while. Good to see you. First time since I entered old age.”
It was truly a reunion between men. I couldn’t even imagine what it felt like for the old man to face himself so firmly erect in every way.
Would I end up like that when I got older, unable to rise in any sense? As I pondered that, the old man spoke.
“Hey, kid. I don’t trust barbarians like you. Sure, with all this city policy, kingdom policy nonsense, they’re letting in immigrants. But I hate barbarians coming to Gaia Continent.”
Still, separate from the health improvement from my physical therapy, the old man clearly didn’t like me. Elderly folks being exclusive toward immigrants or foreigners was the same in any world, so I understood. I was used to it too.
But Mana the healer, watching this from the side, seemed uncomfortable, fidgeting restlessly.
“Sir, you shouldn’t say that to the man who just treated your back!”
“Mana, miss! I don’t have long to live anyway! I’m gonna say what I want! And that’s why I’m saying it—I don’t like you Samaritans. My comrades long ago died to black-haired ones like you.”
“I see.”
So the old man had experience fighting Samaritans. Now that I looked, his face and arms were covered in scars.
He was scrawny and wheezing now, but he must have been something in his youth. Since I wasn’t actually a Samaritan, his barbs against barbarians didn’t hit me much.
“Kid, what’s your name?”
“Hassan.”
“Barbarian-like, dumbass name. Remember this, Hassan. You better not cause any trouble in the city I defended—.”
*Pinggrrr-.*
The old man flicked a silver coin from his hand, stood, and vanished. As Mana busily tidied the bed he’d left,
“That old man’s always been a bit prickly. But he doesn’t ask just anyone’s name. That’s his way of showing thanks!”
“Old folks are all like that.”
Truth be told, he was pretty mild compared to some. Back in my slave days in Calcutta, I’d met far worse old codgers.
“Alright, next patient, come on in.”
“Hehe—. My shoulder’s been hurting. Can’t lift my arm above my neck. Other healers said it’s hopeless. Can this really be fixed?”
“Just a massage.”
It had been several days since the fire.
As I went around helping fire victims in various ways, I always stopped by the clinic on my way back to handle odd jobs or simple treatments.
At first, people were wary of a strange barbarian touching them, but now they casually offered their shoulders, backs, or palms without resistance.
Healer Mana had been skeptical about my massages too.
But seeing people who couldn’t straighten their backs stand tall, or those complaining of knee or shoulder pain leave with brightened faces, she looked shocked, her expression lighting up.
“What on earth did you do? Do you handle mana or aura? Otherwise, those deep-seated karmic ailments shouldn’t improve so easily!”
I’d heard similar reactions from healer Pinry before. I gave the same simple answer.
“It’s a secret Samaria technique. Want to learn?”
“Huh? M-Me? Can I? Is that okay?”
It had been about two days since I started volunteering at the clinic. I’d noticed this girl Mana always perking up her ears and eyes whenever I massaged, like she was trying to learn.
Luna, Antiope, Hippolyte—they’d just focused on receiving the massage. But healers like Pinry and Mana were always curious about the method itself.
That’s how I’d earned my 30 silvers and freedom.
“The human body has meridians where energy flows—. Each pressure point corresponds to different areas. Hands and feet are like miniatures of the body—.”
Mana listened intently to my explanation.
After a while, she clapped as if realizing something.
“Ah! I knew I’d heard this before—it’s the Calcutta Healing School theory!”
“Huh? What theory?”
“The Calcutta Healing School! I heard they’re trending in Calcutta now—pressing meridians to promote energy flow and healing!”
“Really?”
At least the Calcutta I knew wasn’t like that. As I wondered, Mana added a few words.
“I read in a medical journal that healer Pinry founded a new healing school. It’s similar to this! Connected to Samaria secrets, huh? Amazing—.”
I hadn’t expected to hear Pinry’s name here either; it was surprising. From the sound of it, she was putting the massage techniques I taught her to good use.
Mana said,
“Anyway, a new treatment in times like these is great news. Might even improve the young lady’s condition!”
“Could be.”
The “young lady” meant Countess Enya Sardich, the earl’s daughter. Rumor was, after falling from her horse in the war, her lower body was paralyzed.
An earl of Sodomora could hire top healers, and I’d assumed such a condition would be easy to treat, but apparently not.
The earl’s worries deepened daily, and he’d announced a huge reward for anyone who could cure his daughter.
Now that I thought about it, I’d read similar stories in the papers, but dismissed them as irrelevant to me—too high up the ladder.
Like reading about a CEO’s daughter in critical condition—detached.
I said,
“But non-baptized healers can’t even see the young lady, right?”
From what Mana explained, the earl had called in various people to examine his daughter.
But there were rules: only baptized healers could approach.
Maybe to block quacks and frauds from profiting, or because she was nobility—couldn’t show her face and body to just anyone.
With paralysis in the lower half, examining there was inevitable, so the rules made sense.
I’d thought of curing the earl’s daughter and getting a big reward in return. But impossible now.
If I’d gotten silver-tier certification faster and opened a clinic, no regrets.
I’d lived diligently, but looking back, I regretted not leveling up and building skills more urgently.
Was there no legal way to make big money fast?
All that came to mind was the skull key from raiding the thieves’ guild. But no clue how to use it.
The public auction would reopen in at most three days.
“Hey, bro, when the hell are you gonna massage my back?”
*Crack-.*
“Eek!”
*
*
*
“Young man, thanks for the help. You’ll be blessed! Now I finally feel secure!”
After leaving the clinic, I made one last stop at the old man’s house with the broken fence, helping patch the wall with lime mortar and mud.
Now I’d checked on all the fire victims’ homes.
As laundry owner Galad had said first, the biggest damage was to the laundry and clinic; others had minor fire marks, no casualties.
Still, the 200-gold compensation was high because Elfride burned the rich East Gate district, and in a world of wooden buildings, arson was a major taboo.
“Alright, ma’am, please put in a good word for me at the next public auction, as I mentioned.”
“Aigoo, got it. Don’t worry. But you look like you need money bad. Got a plan?”
“I’ll figure something out. Anyway, stay healthy, and don’t touch the lime till it sets.”
“Aigoo, okay, okay. You look like you could slay a dragon, but surprisingly cautious!”
With final instructions, I turned toward Luna’s shack.
The sun was already dipping low, making today feel truly fulfilling.
*Jingle.*
I’d gone out early to help others, and my coin pouch was nicely heavy.
Over 50 silvers just today. Karma Value at 250 too—a packed day.
Helping others felt cooler than I thought. When strapped for time, I’d been too busy surviving alone to try.
Not that I had tons of spare time now, but it beat drifting aimlessly—more fulfilling.
“Luna, I’m back. Let’s eat dinner if you’re home.”
When I arrived at the shack.
Luna, who usually sat upstairs shelling beans or making straw dolls to rest in the evening, was bustling about unusually.
“Luna, what’re you doing?”
“Oh, Hassan! Perfect timing! Need your help! Got a request from the Alchemist Guild! A huge one! Could be a big score if we nail it!”
Alchemist Guild?
Come to think of it, Luna was an honorary member of the Alchemist Guild.
Her friend, pharmacist Vinas, had stepped away for some reason, and Luna filled in. I thought it’d fizzled out, but now they’d requested her.
Wondering what, Luna showed me a paper with a shocking message.
Alchemist Guild front, Hawkins Sardich Earl—.