The boy with one injured eye showed up again.

"Have you decided to work for me instead of becoming an adventurer?"
"…I have one condition."
"Let's hear it."
"I want to make the person who took my eye pay."

So, it inevitably comes to this.

"You don't even know who they are, do you?"
"I don't know their name. But I’ll never forget their face!"
"Can’t you let go of your grudge? The person is a noble, right?"
"Easy for you to say—you weren’t the one who lost an eye!"

I can understand his frustration at losing an eye unjustly.
After all, I've been slashed across the back by Monoglok in the past.
Well, in my case, I managed to heal myself.

"How do you plan to find this person? You can’t enter the noble district."
"I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you for help."
"What do you intend to do when you find them?"
"Punch them. Just once."

I get it. If punching them will ease his pain, I’d let him do it, but…

"If you do that, you’ll be arrested as a criminal."
"I’ll make sure not to cause trouble for you."
"No, if my servant assaults a noble, it will definitely cause me trouble."
"…….."

He hadn’t thought that far ahead?
Growing up in the slums, he likely lacks education—or maybe he’s just reckless.

"What does this person look like?"
"They're about my age, red-haired, fat, and kept saying 'I’m the best.'"

Do you know how many people fit that description?

"Also, they had a mole here."

"Hmm?"

The boy pointed to a spot below his left nostril.

"Are you sure about that mole?"
"Absolutely. There’s no way I’d mistake such a distinctive mole."

I had someone in mind. No, I had too many suspicions about who it might be.
That person was Monoglok—my former brother.

Monoglok had a mole below his left nostril, a stocky build, and an even fatter frame from his gluttonous habits since childhood. He was also prone to saying, “I’m the best,” and his brutish nature often led him to bully both commoners and lower-ranking nobles.

"Even though it’s been years since your injury, could you recognize them if you saw them?"
"Of course. I’ll never forget that oily face and those nasty eyes."

The greasy features and bad temper matched Monoglok perfectly.

"Even if you do find him, it might take years."
"I don’t care."
"That mole matches someone I also have bitter memories with. It’s probably the same person."
"You too?"
"Yes. It might not be him, but I doubt there are many people around here with that specific description. Let’s work together."
"You’d really help?"
"That’s your condition, isn’t it?"
"It is, but you could get arrested too."
"In that case, should I stop healing your eye?"
"…No, please heal it."
"Fine. But after your eye is healed, don’t forget you agreed to work for me."
"I keep my promises. You better keep yours."
"Of course. I always keep my promises."

I healed his eye.

The boy's name was Pados. He was one year older than me, 16, and blessed by the god of fertility. His skill was Farmer (Extreme)—an incredibly useful skill for agriculture but completely unsuited for combat. I planned to have him tend to the herb garden.

"I just need to take care of this garden? Ow! What the—?!"

Pal smacked Pados on the head.

"You’re now one of Master Sai’s servants. Fix your language."
"What do you want me to do about it?!"
"From today onward, Solderic and I will train you. Prepare yourself."
"What?! Ow! Stop hitting me!"
"Master Sai deserves nothing but proper conduct from his servants."

With Pal and Solderic training him, Pados might even become fit to serve a noble family. Good luck, Pados.

Just as I was about to call it a day, the bell above the door jingled, announcing a visitor.
A well-dressed elderly man with white hair entered.

"Dr. Sai, I humbly request a house call."

He bowed gracefully. Judging by his polished manners, he was likely a noble family's butler.

"We’ve closed for the day. And I don’t do house calls."

Pal refused firmly, her skepticism of noble emissaries evident.

"I beg of you, please…"

The desperation in his voice was palpable.

"Where do you need me to go?"
"Master Sai!"
"Pal, someone needs my help."
"…Understood."

"Thank you. The location is in the western noble district."

The western noble district houses estates of land-owning nobles. Owning a residence in the capital indicates significant status.

"Which family?"
"I must implore you to keep this confidential."

The butler lowered his voice as he revealed the name.

The Zoldo Marquessate. Guardians of the border with the Kingdom of Maltes, they are one of the foremost military families in Ordrette.

"What’s the patient’s condition?"
"Severe exhaustion. Our physician says it’s grave."
"Desperate enough to turn to me, huh? Very well."

Pal and I boarded the butler's carriage.

"Master Sai…"
"I know."

The carriage was heading away from the noble district, in the opposite direction.

Was this a trap? Yet the butler’s demeanor showed no hostility, and my Target Search skill confirmed he wasn’t an enemy.
Though deceptive about our destination, the existence of a patient seemed genuine.

"We’ve arrived."

It was a large estate located on the outskirts of the capital.

"So, why bring us here?"
"I see I couldn’t deceive you… This is a secondary residence of the Zoldo Marquessate."

Regardless of where they were, a patient was still a patient. But being lied to about the location was irritating.

"I deeply apologize for misleading you."

The butler bowed deeply.