When Mages Had to Perform Surgery

The older mage had been stuffed into a sack in the corner of the warehouse by the two of them.

When Benjamin saw the shorter one walk over and roughly drag the older mage out of the sack, the first thought that popped into his head was that if the mage knew what his two students had done, he'd be so furious he'd come back to life just to yell at them.

But he wasn't dead yet, so he probably wouldn't find out what had happened.

—At least, not yet.

"Your teacher must've had the worst luck in the world to take you two on as students," Benjamin couldn't help exclaiming.

"Our teacher said that too!" The shorter one sounded delighted, though Benjamin had no idea why. "He always says that if it weren't for the two of us having ridiculously good elemental affinity, we'd never have been taken on as students, even if we could cast magic while butchering the incantations!"

"..."

Benjamin felt conflicted about the shorter one's words and chose not to comment.

He'd better save the man. Yes, focus on saving him.

He took a deep breath, refocused, and looked at the wound on the older mage's chest.

Hmm... He should be able to save him.

The bullet had struck somewhere below the heart, and blood was still trickling out. Whether intentionally or not, Benjamin really had missed his target. The wound wasn't fatal, nor had it damaged any organs. But if they left him in the sack, he'd probably bleed to death in another ten minutes or so.

His face was pale. He'd already lost a lot of blood.

"Neither of us knows any healing magic. Do you think you can save our teacher?" the taller one asked.

Benjamin shrugged. "I'll give it a try."

He was a little unsure whether he should be doing this. He could already feel the radiant halo of a merciful saint shining above his head. But since he'd made it this far, he might as well see it through.

He was neither a doctor nor a nurse, and he didn't know how to treat a gunshot wound. But he had a Healing Water Sphere, and after watching so many TV shows, he at least knew enough to understand that he had to remove the bullet first.

There weren't any other tools around, so he'd have to use his hands.

For some reason, facing the bloody wound actually calmed Benjamin down. He tore open the robe and clothes around it, baring the man's chest. After examining the wound closely, he inserted the index finger and thumb of his right hand.

As he did, he thought, The guy should be grateful Benjamin's still a teenager, with fingers that aren't too thick. Otherwise, I might kill him before I even get the bullet out.

"What kind of magic is this? It's terrifying!" the shorter one suddenly sobbed from nearby.

"Don't cry. Our teacher won't die," the taller one comforted him.

Benjamin gave them a look that said, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

The bullet didn't seem to be very deep. It must have been stopped by a rib, because Benjamin soon felt the cold metal amid the flesh. But his fingers had widened the wound considerably, and blood had nearly covered his entire hand.

Seeing that, Benjamin didn't dare delay any longer. Once he was sure he had the bullet pinched between his fingers, he gently pulled it out.

Success!

The whole process had gone quite smoothly. There'd been a fair amount of bleeding, but not enough to be fatal.

Benjamin even wondered if he had a talent for medicine. If only he'd known, he would've studied to become a doctor. Then he'd have had more useful skills after transmigrating. At the very least, the system's database might have included medical papers instead of just a speech written for some leader.

Sigh, what a regret!

As he thought this, he set the bloodstained bullet aside. The two idiots immediately crowded around it, eyeing it curiously. They looked like they wanted to touch it but were afraid to, and could only make sounds of amazement.

"This is a bullet fired from a handgun. It's a weapon, and it has nothing to do with magic." Benjamin shook his head and couldn't help explaining. "What I'm about to use now is magic."

With that, he recited an incantation and summoned a sphere of water. He adjusted the elemental structure inside it to give it healing properties, then gently pressed it against the mage's wound.

The sphere of water merged into the wound. The bleeding slowed considerably, even though the wound had been enlarged when he removed the bullet.

Benjamin wasn't surprised. He knew one sphere of water couldn't make the wound disappear completely. He suspected that even the genuine Water of Life wouldn't be particularly effective at healing. Otherwise, mages who knew that spell would be immortal.

He repeated the process, sending one Healing Water Sphere after another crashing against the wound.

After he'd used a dozen or so spheres, the wound finally stopped bleeding and began to show signs of healing. The mage's pale cheeks had regained a little color, too.

After thinking it over, Benjamin stopped.

That would do. The man's condition was stable now, and he wouldn't die. Benjamin couldn't be bothered to waste any more energy.

"His wound is no longer serious. As long as you don't move him again, he should wake up on his own after a while." Benjamin stood up and stretched, announcing the end of surgery to the patient's family and bringing his brief medical career to a close.

The two of them stared at him, dumbfounded and silent.

"What's wrong?" Benjamin asked, though he had a feeling he might regret it.

The shorter one stared at him in astonishment, as if he'd discovered a new continent, then suddenly cried out, "You can use magic? You're a mage? Oh my god, you're a mage! You're one of us!"

Sorry, I don't really want to be one of you.

Benjamin wanted to make a snarky comment. Hadn't these two thought his handgun was magic? By their logic, that made him a mage. Why had it only just occurred to them?

But whatever...

He'd lost the energy to make snarky comments around these two.

"Yes, I'm a mage," he replied helplessly.

"No wonder you could hurt our teacher." The taller one nodded thoughtfully. "Our teacher said that only mages can hurt other mages. Those people from the Church are all useless!"

"..."

He wondered if they'd still think that if they ran into a Purifier.

But Benjamin didn't plan to waste any more time with the two of them.

He wanted to return to the alley and check on the two Paladins.

Oh, and the little brat who'd stolen his money. Though Benjamin suspected the kid might already be dead after that powerful spell, especially since he'd already taken a bullet earlier.

Benjamin felt a little wistful about that.

A child had died just like that. Sure, he'd been a thief, and it wasn't Benjamin who'd killed him with his own hands...

Then why was he even agonizing over it?

If there really was a heaven in this world, then he hoped the kid was having a rough time in hell. Once Benjamin died and went to hell himself, he'd grab the kid by the collar and lecture him on why he shouldn't steal his money.

Thinking of it that way made Benjamin feel a little better.

This was bad. He'd caught the two young mages' bizarre way of thinking. He had to get out of here, fast.

"I'm leaving. Don't tell anyone about me, and especially don't tell anyone I'm a mage." He said this to the two of them and turned to go.

"Why are you leaving?" This time, the taller one stepped forward and blocked his way. "You're a mage. You should come home with us. Our teacher said it's dangerous for a mage to be alone out there. We wouldn't have dared leave home without him."

Home?

Benjamin thought of something and turned back to ask, "Where's your home? No, just answer this instead: what's the name of your mage organization?"

He suddenly recalled the sense of belonging to an organization he'd felt from the three of them earlier.

He needed to ask a few more questions.

"What do you mean, what's it called? Home is just home, the place we've lived all our lives." The taller one seemed confused. He furrowed his brow and thought for a moment. "But I think I once heard someone call home... call it something..."

The taller one seemed unable to remember for a moment. The shorter one hurried over and loudly reminded him:

"It's called the Silent Academy!"