Darkwill's Departure
Luther traversed the muddy, slippery roads in the East Borough.
He changed into a dark black robe, his face hidden under a hood.
The winter afternoon was pale and unbearable. A homeless man huddled in a sheltered corner, staring blankly at the sky, as if praying that the Sun would pierce the clouds and bring some warmth upon him. The clanging of a horse-drawn carriage left ruts, and the splashes of mud sent passersby scrambling to avoid it.
Looking up, the factory chimneys in the distance were shrouded in gray-white Fog, barely visible.
Luther silently observed everything before him, his steps never faltering, until he stopped at a herbal medicine shop in front of a famous red-light district in the East Borough.
"Squeak--"
Pushing open the door, a strong smell of herbs wafted out. What came into view was a stack of various herbs, cabinets, and utensils reaching all the way to the ceiling. On a wooden shelf in front of the counter, an owl perched, its large, pale yellow eyes fixed on Luther without blinking.
"Welcome. Oh, it's you."
The Fat Apothecary, Darkwill, emerged from behind, his voice trailing off, but he lost interest upon seeing it was Luther.
"The usual, one serving of all kinds of medicine, please."
Luther said, his eyes lingering on the owl. He easily detected the extraordinary aura emanating from this owl.
Darkwill is quite wealthy, keeping an extraordinary creature as a pet. Luther pondered, his eyes meeting those of the owl, who nonchalantly turned its head 180 degrees, avoiding his gaze.
Everything is prepared for you.
Darkwill rummaged under the counter and pulled out a medicine packet wrapped in thick paper. "Still the same price."
"Um."
Luther paid the price as previously agreed.
"I said, Miss Cecilia hasn't been here for a long time."
"It would be ridiculous if you went out for a walk and suddenly fell ill, collapsing in a ditch," Darkwill said.
The Fat Apothecary was perhaps trying to express his concern, but his words were rather inappropriate.
Thank you for your extra concern.
Luther said calmly, slamming the money on the table with a loud thud, startling even the owl.
Darkwill had no idea that Cecilia was dead, and even the person he saw and admired was merely a phantom created by Luther in his madness. Luther had no intention of telling him, because that was all there was between them.
However, inevitably, his already bad mood became even more gloomy when Darkwill mentioned his sister.
"Hey, I'm leaving here."
Just as he picked up his bag to leave, the Fat Apothecary spoke again, "I've written down the prescriptions for these medications and put them inside the medicine packet. You can get them from other pharmacies yourself in the future."
Is Darkwill leaving?
Luther looked up at him and asked, "You have gambling debts?"
Of course not!
Darkwill said, "I've been here long enough; if I linger any longer, someone will notice something's wrong and report me."
"Besides,"
He glanced Consciousness at the owl on the wooden shelf, "It's time for me to move up a notch in my own Sequence."
It's good that the Apothecary is gone.
Luther thought that if he stayed any longer, he might one day discover that his sister didn't actually exist, and suffer an even greater blow. Leaving like this might at least leave behind a beautiful memory.
He glanced at the owl one last time before leaving, then pushed open the door of the herbal shop and went out.
Carrying the herbs, Luther walked for a while and arrived at a dark alley in the East Borough. There, a number of people had already gathered, most of them bearing obvious injuries.
"Dear Missionary, you've finally arrived!"
"Jack, you're saved!"
Upon seeing him, people became excited on a small scale.
This is the place where Luther used to treat people for free. Back then, in order to Acting of the Rose Bishop, he tried to open a secret medical point here, providing free medical care to the people of the East Borough.
Later, although the "Rose Bishop's" Potion was not digested, his habit of providing free medical care remained. And the more people he saved, the deeper the respect the poor people of the East Borough held for him—which greatly facilitated his later missionary work.
"Stand still, one at a time, according to the previous rules, those with more serious injuries first."
Luther said to them.
His voice carried an irresistible magic, quickly restoring Order to the previously chaotic group. With his assistant no longer there to maintain Order, Luther was left to rely entirely on himself.
The alleyway was still divided into cubicles made of cloth, just like always. Luther's first patient was a child who was only 5 years old.
He was dressed in clothes that were clearly made from adult garments, and his whole body was covered in dirty coal dust. He was holding his broken arm and looking at Luther. The white bone fragments broke through his dark skin and were exposed to the air.
My skin is so dark.
What's going on?
Luther asked the man who had brought him in.
"Sir Missionary, his name is Oliver. He was cleaning the chimney when the rope broke, and he fell and broke his arm."
The man bowed and scraped, saying, "He was very lucky; his arm caught him halfway through, otherwise his neck would have been broken."
There were several dried white streaks on the child's dark face, probably tear stains. He seemed to have cried himself to exhaustion, looking somewhat numb.
Clean the chimney
Luther looked at the short child and didn't know what to say for a moment.
Furthermore, due to the climate of Backlund, fireplaces became a necessity in every household. Over time, soot would accumulate, leading to poor ventilation, insufficient fire intensity, and even danger. However, the biggest problem with these fireplaces embedded in the wall was that the flues were difficult to clean.
The task of cleaning chimneys usually falls to children from poor families. Due to the size of the chimneys, only children a few years old can squeeze inside and thoroughly clean them.
For the poor, this is an extra source of income, allowing their children, who simply consume money, to also bring in revenue for the family; for families with fireplaces, hiring children is less expensive and more convenient.
As for the children working there, they not only have to crawl into the dark and long chimneys, but also struggle to maintain their working postures for more than ten hours a day. In addition, they may face the risk of falling, and prolonged work can lead to physical deformities, with coal ash Corrosion their lungs and causing irreversible lung damage.
However, children from poor families don't live long anyway, so it's always good if they can help their families as early as possible.
All I can say is that this is truly the great Backlund, the Backlund that prioritizes value and efficiency above all else. As long as it makes money, they can squeeze every last drop out of even a child this age.
"I see."
Luther took a deep breath and walked up to the child.
What's your name?
He asked.
Oliver.
The child answered, sniffing.