Spell Spirit Transaction

Broken Lake Prison, Treatment Room.

"Are you going to pretend I'm still unconscious just because I haven't made a sound?"

Ash opened his eyes and stared straight at the Healer who was fiddling with his face.

The Healer wore a badge with the number [222] on her clothes; she was clearly the same Healer from last time.

"If you don't want your face to rot, close your eyes!"

"Alright, alright."

After the Healer tinkered for a few more minutes, she finally let go of his face. "Done. You can get up now. Here, the apple you asked for last time."

Ash quickly sat up and touched his face, letting out a sigh of relief. Beside the nightstand was a plate of apples cut into the shape of rabbits, complete with toothpicks. Ash picked one up and popped it into his mouth.

"Thank goodness, thank goodness. Two eyes, one nose, one mouth—not a single thing missing. I really thought I was going to have to make a contribution to species diversity."

"I was performing surgery to treat you, how could you doubt me?"

The Healer crossed her arms, trying to look indignant, but since she was wearing a Raven Mask and her voice was distorted by it, Ash wasn't the least bit intimidated. In fact, he even reached out a hand.

"What are you doing?"

"Didn't you say that if I let you perform plastic surgery on me, you'd have to pay me?"

"Oh." The Healer obediently pulled out her wallet, but then she immediately realized something. "I did say that yesterday, but you didn't agree to it!"

"So, did you perform plastic surgery on me or not?"

"Plastic surgery is very complicated, it's not as simple as you imagine—"

"So you did do it?"

"Only a little bit. It was actually a very, very minor procedure... how much do you want?"

"Give me one Silver Coin."

The Healer was visibly relieved. She looked down and rummaged through her wallet, then looked up and asked, "Will a Gold Coin do? I don't have any small change."

Ash, who had been living off the state, had no concept of this world's economic system. He was secretly surprised: so a Silver Coin was considered pocket change for beggars in this world?

One dared to give, and the other dared to take. As soon as Ash took the Gold Coin, he felt a surge of excitement deep within his consciousness.

As his palm grew warm, Ash felt as if he saw a human toddler in pajamas patting a full belly before lying down to sleep soundly.

He looked down at the Gold Coin and vaguely felt it had shrunk just a tiny bit. At this rate of consumption, it would probably last a year.

Well, feeding a Spell Spirit was actually quite simple.

Although Ash was the type of person to stir up trouble whenever he could, he had a reason for asking for money this time.

After all, the Sword Maiden had told him that Spell Spirits needed to be fed with money, and since he had none, he had to find a way to squeeze some from those with lower intelligence for emergencies.

Ash put the Gold Coin into his pocket with satisfaction and asked casually, "So, what kind of plastic surgery did you actually perform on me?"

"Dru's Forehead Skin Extension and Wrinkle Removal Technique. Simply put, it's for removing forehead lines."

The Healer paused, straightened her back, and looked down at Ash with her raven beak. "You should be kowtowing to me for performing this surgery. You know, forehead lines really affect a person's attractiveness. Outside, a single Dru Technique costs a fortune to—"

"What? You actually removed my most handsome, most masculine forehead lines?"

Ash was outraged. "An unscrupulous Healer actually disfigured a patient while they were asleep, robbing them of their most brilliant beauty! Is there no law, no reason here? This is medical malpractice! This is murder for money!"

The Healer was completely stunned by Ash's counter-attack. She stood there blankly for a moment before opening her wallet again.

"How much do you want?"

"Hey, don't be like that. I'm not that kind of person." Ash refused righteously. "I'm not the type of criminal who would use leverage to coerce others into doing my bidding."

The Healer pondered for a moment.

"You sit here for a while, I'm going to go find the news reports about you..."

"In! Short!" Ash quickly pulled the Healer back. "I just want to ask you a few questions."

"Don't ask my name, don't take off my mask, and don't touch my skin!"

The Healer was startled, quickly swatting Ash's hand away and crossing her arms defensively, making Ash finally feel the dignity of being a death row inmate.

However, Ash was curious. "Why not?"

"These are the rules of Broken Lake Prison. Healers are not allowed to communicate privately with prisoners. If discovered, they will be stripped of their position, and in serious cases, they could even be imprisoned!"

"Does that mean... we'll be cellmates soon?"

"If you have questions, ask them quickly, then leave."

The Healer didn't seem to care much about the rules; Ash felt she was looking for an excuse to take an unpaid, long-term vacation.

"That Elf who fought me to the death, is he still alive?"

"His injuries were lighter than yours, he left a long time ago."

"Lighter injuries?"

"He only had his throat slit. What's a little injury like that? Someone healed him in a few minutes. I spent over an hour just to get your flesh to grow back."

The Healer spread her hands, and she didn't look like she was lying.

Ash looked at his intact thigh and shoulder, wondering if the cost of treatment here was calculated by the pound.

The more flesh lost, the harder it was to treat, but slit throats and blown-off heads didn't count?

Does that mean the buttocks are considered high-risk organs here? Are they more important than the brain?

"Do you have any more questions? Make it quick."

"I was just wondering, is there a place in this prison to trade Spell Spirits? A man living alone gets a bit lonely, and I'd like to keep a pet..."

The Healer stared intently at Ash.

"I'm going to report you for harboring ulterior motives and attempting a prison break."

"I'm already a death row inmate. Even if you report me, can you really add to my sentence?"

"I certainly can. After you die once, I'll resurrect you just so you can die again."

"What, that's actually a thing!?"

"Of course not. That would be a waste of taxpayer money, and it's inhumane. Repeated executions were banned a hundred years ago."

"So, death row inmates a hundred years ago might have had to die multiple times..."

"In any case, I won't answer that question." The Healer crossed her arms and said, "A death row inmate like you should just honestly serve as our medical material. When you're no longer useful, just die quietly."

"You have surprisingly sound Three Views..."

"What makes you think my Three Views are unsound?"

"Well, you've been chatting with a death row inmate like me for so long. I thought you were one of those rebellious-period kids who get curious about criminals."

"I—I am not curious! If I were actually curious, I'd just go read the news reports."

As the Healer spoke, she packed up her medical equipment. Ash jumped off the bed and flexed his thigh and shoulder.

The surgery was a success. Aside from the skin on a patch of his thigh and shoulder being a shade whiter than the surrounding area, there were no major issues.

"If I told you I was framed, would you believe me?"

"Don't think I'm that easy to fool." The Healer scoffed. "Ever since the Memory Evidence System was introduced, there hasn't been a single case of wrongful conviction. The Sin Hunting Hall must have discovered your criminal process from your memories to convict you—"

"Nope. The Sin Hunting Hall didn't take any memory evidence from my brain."

"How is that possible—"

"You can check the reports, but they really didn't take my memories, and I really was framed."

Ash was righteous and confident. Not to mention that the criminal was Hiss and not him, more importantly, he didn't even have Hiss's memories, so he felt no psychological burden saying this.

The Healer looked at Ash suspiciously.

"You're not lying to me?"

"If I'm lying, I'll never get overtime pay for the rest of my life."

"If you dare lie to me, you're dead. You'd better pray you don't get injured again, or once you're in my hands, I'll change your race and gender just to see!"

This remark dealt a massive blow to Ash's young heart—he had wanted to experience the healthcare industry of various races in this other world, but he hadn't expected the medical technology here to have reached the point where even race and gender could be altered!

If he walked down the street, could he even trust the beautiful girls he saw? Was there any trust left between people?

"But even if you say that, I can't answer you."

The Healer spread her hands.

"The Spell Power of you death row inmates is restricted. The first step in trading Spell Spirits is for the seller to release the Spell Spirit using Spell Power, and for the buyer to reactivate it with their own. Since you can't use Spell Power, you can neither release nor activate them."

Spell Power actually had an effect similar to a key authentication. Ash increasingly felt that Spell Power was a universal energy; he wouldn't even be surprised if he heard it had Bluetooth functionality.

No wonder the prison didn't seal their Spell Spirits. On one hand, perhaps they couldn't be bound, but on the other, as long as their Spell Power was restricted, they couldn't stir up any trouble.

Ash refused to give up. "Is there no hope at all? Isn't there a place like a Deathmatch Club where we can have our Spell Power restrictions lifted?"

After experiencing one Void Realm Exploration, Ash realized that trying to collect the necessary Spell Spirits in the Void Realm was no easier than finding a needle in a haystack. If he had enough time, it wouldn't be impossible, but the problem was that he didn't have much time left.

Although Ash didn't dislike risk and was willing to gamble on probability, he didn't want to do so without a hedge. Just like how companies forced them to work 996 overtime while providing health insurance—the company won regardless of whether an employee died of overwork—as an outstanding annual employee, Ash had naturally grasped this excellent corporate culture and was always preparing a backup plan.

If he could find a Spell Spirit Trading Platform, even if Ash only picked up trash in the Void Realm, he would have a chance to sell it off and recoup his losses.

"There is, don't you know?"

The Healer's answer exceeded Ash's expectations. "Why would I know that?"

"Because it's an experience every death row inmate goes through at least once... Oh right, you've only been in prison for a few days, you haven't had the chance yet."

Ash immediately understood what she was implying.

"Blood Moon Judgment?"