episode_0110

110. The Cheerful Man

Cain kept chattering away beside me.

I possessed knowledge that set me apart from ordinary people.

Yet, even I couldn’t comprehend half of what he was saying—no, I couldn’t understand it at all.

“Miss Adela?”

“Yeah, what?”

“Was it boring?”

Cain asked with pure, innocent curiosity, devoid of any malice.

No matter how kind and pure he seemed, I couldn’t let my guard down around him.

If I carelessly dismissed him, I’d end up bewitched by this fox, giving away everything—my liver, my gallbladder, and more.

I wouldn’t end up like Vivian, Adele, or General Luna.

Hell, I even pressed my lips to his out of curiosity while he was asleep.

I wondered why the noblewomen of House Grace, who lacked nothing in this world, had fallen for him.

Not that I cared about something like a first kiss anyway…

Well, aside from the sensation of lips touching, there was nothing special about it.

Anyway, I’d gotten sidetracked for too long.

I turned to Cain, who was waiting for my answer.

“No, well… that thing about making gold, right?”

“I told you! It’s technically possible to make gold, but the resources and money required make it completely inefficient!”

“Ah, I see~.”

I gave a half-hearted reply while putting a cigarette between my lips.

In the end, it all boiled down to the fact that making gold was impossible.

If even the final stage of alchemy—gold replication—was unattainable, then what was the point?

I should just throw away all the alchemy books I’d bought for later reading.

A heaven-sent genius had already declared it a worthless field of study.

With that, we stepped out into Jarmark Square together.

A city more vibrant and refined than Redmain’s Freesia.

Sure, it didn’t have a kilometer-long bridge or buildings towering over 30 meters, but it was still a place where beautiful parks and culture flourished.

Well-manicured gardens, trees, flowers, and fountains adorned the city’s parks.

Bards sang in the streets, spreading joy with their music.

It was a breathtaking urban landscape unlike anything else…

Yet Cain looked utterly unimpressed.

When I glanced at him, he finally seemed to notice something.

“Huh?”

“You don’t seem very amazed.”

“N-no, it’s just… Central Park and busking… Never mind.”

I had no idea what he was talking about.

As a native of Jarmark, my pride stung a little.

Sure, the city had its flaws—like the old farts clinging to power—but there was still plenty to be proud of.

I pointed out the famous clock tower, a local tourist attraction, as we passed by.

“Wow….”

“Impressive, right? Nowhere else in the empire has architecture this advanced—”

“There’s a book floating in midair! That’s insane!”

“……”

It was just a book decoration at a nearby stall.

A basic, bottom-tier levitation spell, making a book hover over a crystal orb.

Apparently, cheap magic was more fascinating to him than Jarmark’s finest achievements.

After walking a bit further, we came across a beverage shop.

Jarmark was a wealthy area, practically a tourist destination, so there were plenty of leisurely cafes that only served drinks.

In most places, people would be too busy scraping by to afford such luxuries.

The income disparity here fostered a different culture, but Cain showed no reaction.

Anyway, seated at a table outside one such shop was a man.

Marcus Capon waved at us cheerfully.

“Hahaha! Over here, over here!”

“Say hello. He’s a bit odd, but a good guy.”

“Uh… h-hello….”

Cain bowed awkwardly, greeting him with visible shyness.

It was fascinating to see him act so reserved around a stranger.

This was the same guy who’d gotten into a bloody feud with nobles who could’ve slit his throat with a word.

Marcus looked delighted—not just at meeting a genius, but at making a new, loyal friend.

Meanwhile, Cain, whether due to introversion or sheer discomfort, looked like he was about to vomit blood as he endured the conversation.

Anyone could see he wanted to end it as quickly as possible.

But something told me this was about to get interesting.

A mischievous smile crept onto my lips.

────────────────────

The first time I met him, he struck me as a cheerful man.

He was manly in appearance and eloquent—enough to make a good first impression despite being a stranger.

But beneath his cool demeanor, there was an air of aristocratic dignity that occasionally surfaced.

And most importantly…

“…or so they say. I’d love to hear your thoughts on Yobasko’s theories.”

What the hell is that, you nerd…?

An intellectual who wanted to debate a field of study I’d never even heard of.

And yet, he subtly assumed I’d know the answer.

This guy was my polar opposite.

I’d rather befriend someone like Jet, who blabbers without thinking.

So I just smiled and gave vague responses.

Marcus seemed to pick up on my disinterest and gradually tapered off the conversation…

Good. If I could just stall for time…

“Oh, right. Come to think of it, I have an interesting story to share.”

“An interesting story?”

What was he talking about?

Then Adela flashed a wicked grin and spoke.

“How to make gold.”

……Why did I do that?

With such a perfect topic, Marcus’s dying embers roared back to life.

He bombarded me with passionate questions, looking ready to devour me.

It was so overwhelming I nearly choked on my drink.

“See? Alchemy is incredible, isn’t it? Urine contains traces of golden energy—”

“Absolutely not!”

“Then what?”

“Urine is 90% water, with amino acids, uric acid, urea, and inorganic salts! Gold is a pure element—they’re completely unrelated!”

My inner science student reflexively rebutted him.

But Marcus just laughed heartily and urged me to continue, as if thrilled.

His entire worldview must’ve crumbled just then, yet he seemed overjoyed at learning something new.

With the floodgates open, I ended up talking with Marcus a bit more.

All while Adela smirked smugly from the sidelines.

I seriously considered giving her a knuckle sandwich.

Anyway.

After a long conversation, Marcus let out a sigh.

The kind of satisfied exhale after a fulfilling discussion.

This guy’s a total social butterfly.

“That was a great talk. I feel like my horizons have expanded.”

“Not at all.”

“Does this mean we’ve grown closer?”

I don’t know…

At the very least, I don’t want to see you often.

The words rose to my throat, but I swallowed them and forced a smile.

Just as I thought it was finally over…

Marcus grinned and said:

“Haha, then as a celebration of our new friendship, let’s go somewhere special.”

“……”

“Pfft!”

The sound of Adela bursting into laughter.

Why do extreme extroverts find joy in this?

Shouldn’t they just hole up in a lab, study alone, and only come out when recharged?

It was like being dragged to a second round of drinks after barely surviving the first.

But before I could refuse, Adela cut in.

“Might I ask where we’re going?”

“Haha! It’s a show only high-ranking Jarmark citizens can attend.”

“Wow, really? Then refusing would be terribly rude, wouldn’t it?”

This bitch—

I seriously debated punching her in the head.

But I suppressed my violent urges with kindness.

After all, if it came to fists, I’d be the one getting beaten up.

Without Erica around, Adela was queen.

With a strategist’s cunning, she’d successfully thrown me into the devil’s pit.

Helpless, I let Marcus drag me along like a ragdoll.

With Adela in tow.

“Ugh… I should really go back and rest…”

“Aren’t you a fellow Jarmark native? We’re all friends here—how could I not share this with you?”

…Adela was cut from the same cloth as me.

She hadn’t expected to be roped into a second round either and looked like she was about to vomit blood.

Heh. Serves you right.

“I’m curious how a genius like you will evaluate this show!”

“Ugh!”

Oh right—I was being dragged along too!

I desperately wanted to lock myself in my room after this.

And so, the two of us were hauled around by Marcus like luggage.

Our destination was a dome.

A magnificent, dome-shaped structure.

About six meters tall, single-storied.

Inside, the walls were adorned with all sorts of rare paintings.

It was an impressive place, but I had no clue what to expect…

Definitely not a dolphin show.

Unlike me, Adela seemed to have guessed something, her mouth falling open in awe.

“Wow, no way.”

“Indeed. A show not just anyone can see.”

Honestly, I’d appreciate a hint.

A hole in the dome’s ceiling let in dazzling sunlight, illuminating the stage.

Like a spotlight in a theater, the light poured down with an almost divine intensity.

And at the center of the dome, beneath that light…

…was a single chair, designed for someone to lie on.

“This place is…”

“Ah, Baron Cain’s friend is a commoner, wasn’t he?”

A question asked without malice.

And kindly enough, he explained what kind of show this was.

“A surgery show.”

“What?”

“Exactly what it sounds like.”

….

You don’t mean…?

I couldn’t believe it, so I asked again.

“…You don’t mean… that kind of surgery?”

“Exactly! Amputation surgery. And performed in under a minute by none other than Dr. Frankburg.”

“Oh! I’ve heard of that doctor!”

While I was horrified, Adela seemed oddly excited.

This clearly wasn’t a show meant for the general public.

In medieval times, surgery was indeed a form of entertainment.

Surgeons performed for audiences, proving their skill with speed and precision.

Though in this era, I thought amputations were the only procedures available…

Wait a second—

“Couldn’t they just go to a priest?”

“Huh? If it’s bad enough for surgery, wouldn’t a priest be useless?”

Oh, right.

In this world, clergy were healers.

To put it in game terms, they were HP-restoring healers.

They could close wounds instantly, but if infection set in during that time, the patient would die.

They couldn’t cure infections, inflammation, or decay.

That’s where doctors came in.

The problem was, their solution was mostly amputation of rotting limbs.

It was a last resort—something done when the alternative was certain death…

“Ah, here he comes.”

As Marcus spoke, a large door swung open.

A tall man strode confidently to the center.

The only odd thing was that this doctor was wearing a suit.

And in his hand was a saw—a brutal-looking tool that made my knees weak just from the sight of it.

“Greetings, intellectuals, mages, and nobles!”

The doctor introduced himself as if this were a show for high society.

Clearly used to this, he smoothly launched into an explanation of the patient.

“Allow me to introduce him! A 32-year-old male carpenter! A tragic soul who stepped on a rusty nail and now has a blackened leg!”

The patient burst through the same door the doctor had entered from.

Or rather, he was being dragged in by two burly men.

Assistants, no doubt, to keep the patient from fleeing or thrashing.

The large men strapped the patient to the central chair.

Under the intense sunlight streaming through the dome’s open ceiling…

From this angle, the light looked almost divine as it shone upon the surgical subject.

But despite the holy appearance…

“I… I don’t want this!!”

“Let the surgery begin!!”

Like a showman, the doctor raised his hands proudly.

Then Dr. Frankburg lifted the terrifying saw…

Just before the surgery began—

“W-wait a second…!!!”

Someone interrupted the show.

…That someone was me.