Crown Prince Sells Medicine

Illnesses are prevalent throughout the world, and their occurrence tends to rise exponentially with age. This fact becomes apparent when we observe our surroundings.

Can you find a single parent in this world who lives without any ailments? Despite their pain and discomfort, they endure it all for the sake of their children. These remarkable individuals are known as parents. Raciel believed that the situation would be no different here.

‘If the employees of the Star Palace are exceedingly healthy and energetic, we should consider their families!’

All of them have parents, and many would have additional family members. When we consider the combined numbers, it would easily surpass a thousand.

‘Surely, among them, there must be individuals suffering from severe illnesses.’

Raciel was certain of it.

He turned his gaze towards Gardin.

“Therefore, let’s keep the survey and questionnaire items as simple as possible.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s straightforward. We only need the respondent’s name, a list of family members, their gender, age, existing diseases, and symptoms. That should suffice.”

“Is there anything else you’d like to add?”

“Oh, let’s include a stern warning that if the survey responses are found to be false, the employee will be dismissed from the Star Palace.”

“A warning…?”

“Yes.”

Raciel nodded.

This survey was not a trivial matter; it was a genuinely necessary task. Furthermore, it posed no harm to the employees of the Star Palace. Thus, he wanted to conduct the investigation with complete transparency and accuracy.

“Place a bold warning at the top of the questionnaire. The font size… no, each letter should be as thick as an eyeball. If possible, ask them to write the warning in red ink.”

“That will definitely grab attention.”

“Exactly.”

“I will relay this information as it is to Head Steward.”

Gardin, meticulously noting down Raciel’s instructions, went to find Head Steward. The subsequent process proceeded swiftly.

The Head Steward was a diligent man. He promptly and faithfully executed the orders given to him. Thanks to his efforts, they were able to collect 500 completed questionnaires by the evening, merely half a day later.

“Hmm, these are well-crafted.”

Snap!

Observing the questionnaires, Raciel felt satisfied. The specifications he had requested were accurately reflected.

“Excellent. We will distribute the questionnaires tomorrow morning, which will give our plan some momentum.”

If they were able to identify a sick person among the families of Star Palace employees, they would capture them and provide necessary care to restore their health. These individuals would be detained within the Star Palace, receiving dedicated attention.

‘If that happens, success stories of their treatment will spread through word of mouth. That is all we need to achieve. The rest will follow naturally.’

The initial word of mouth.

There would be a minority who would take an interest upon hearing about it, particularly those who are suffering themselves or have ailing family members. Especially if the patient is in a dire situation, they would be more enticed by the rumors.

‘Among them, someone will come to the Star Palace, desperately grasping at straws. I will treat that person. Their case will become a story, spreading further and attracting more patients, like prime-time advertisements.’

That would be sufficient.

Raciel would be able to efficiently accumulate his bonus lives.

‘Then… without worrying about an early demise, I will lead a life of leisure. A true royal life!’

It was an exhilarating future to contemplate. He had grown up in an ordinary family, lost his father in high school, and struggled through part-time jobs to barely graduate college. He had sacrificed dating and dedicated his entire 20s and 30s to studying and working tirelessly.

Approaching the age of 40, he took a small amount of money he had saved and ventured to open an oriental medicine clinic with a substantial loan, only to face utter failure.

But now, he had been granted the gift of a comfortable life and good food, at the very least. If only his lifespan could be extended, if only he could evade an early death. A dreamlike existence awaited him, akin to royalty. The thought made his heart race and flutter with excitement.

Amidst this self-satisfaction, an unexpected, icy voice pierced his eardrums. He set aside the questionnaire and raised his head, searching for the source of the voice.

There stood Demian, his countenance cold and his eyes devoid of emotion. A faint trace of discontent emanated from him.

“Your Highness, I am disappointed,” came the unexpected remark.

Raciel responded, lifting an eyebrow in curiosity, “Disappointed?”

The reply came swiftly, “May I ask, Your Highness, do you view your patients as mere tools?”

“Hmm?”

“Since lunch, this thought has lingered in my mind.”

“Do you truly believe I see my patients as tools?”

“Yes,” Demian affirmed, subtly nodding. He then proceeded to deliver his scathing critique.

“You informed Sir Gardin that you would establish a hospital in the Star Palace, seeking to attract numerous patients through rumors and tales.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Your intention is commendable, truly praiseworthy. However, the current image of the Crown Prince…”

“The image?”

“It appears as though you yearn for a patient on the verge of death to arrive, at the very least.”

“…”

Raciel was taken aback, rendered speechless.

‘Ouch. A direct hit to my vulnerable spot.’

He couldn’t come up with a response to Demian’s astutely accurate critique.

In that moment, Gardin interjected urgently, exclaiming, “How dare you spout such nonsense to His Highness!”

He even jabbed Demian in the ribs, attempting to silence him.

“You have overstepped your boundaries! His Highness surely possesses his own thoughts. You should not presume to be disappointed by guessing His Highness’s intentions based on your own assumptions!”

…Raciel could hear every word.

Gardin had whispered discreetly, but the predicament was that his whispering took place right in front of Raciel, and this bedroom was exceptionally quiet. The amusing part was that Gardin’s urgent reprimand seemed to have an impact on Demian.

“Is that so?” Demian appeared sullen.

Raciel felt a twinge of embarrassment.

‘I, actually, I didn’t have any separate thoughts.’

Upon reflection, Demian’s critique was spot-on. Raciel experienced a sense of remorse. He halted Gardin, who was admonishing Demian.

“Um, Gardin?”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“I appreciate your words, but I believe Demian’s criticism holds truth.”

“…Yes?”

“Do not be too harsh on someone who is right. Hm.”

“Uh, um, understood, Your Highness.”

This time, Gardin seemed sullen. And Demian’s gaze reverted to its icy demeanor once more.

“Your Highness, that’s going too far. Sir Gardin just defended you.”

“Oh my.”

“I suggest you reconsider disappointing such a loyal subordinate.”

“You, aren’t you being too harsh with His Highness!”

Gardin couldn’t tolerate it any longer and scolded Demian.

Demian became sullen upon the reprimand.

‘…What are these two up to?’

Raciel couldn’t help but smirk. Simultaneously, he felt a sense of relief.

The protagonist of the original story, Demian, the Devil Sword Emperor. It was a relief that he became a sharp-tongued presence, unafraid to offer blunt criticism and stand by Raciel’s side.

And Gardin, an early deceased extra in the original Devil Sword Emperor. It was a relief that he, like a constant companion, remained by Raciel’s side.

Raciel felt genuinely grateful and fortunate. With those emotions, he grinned playfully.

“Sir Carrot, it seems Whip is correct, isn’t he?”

“Uh, um, I apologize, Your High… huh?”

“Sir Carrot. Does it sound strange when I call you that?”

“….”

“You seem to like it.”

“That’s not it…”

“Your Highness, it’s not appropriate to treat a loyal servant like Sir Gardin so casually.”

“Oh, you! Are you planning to do the same to His Highness again!”

“….Both of you, leave.”

In the end, after dismissing Whip Demian and Carrot Gardin, Raciel was able to peacefully sleep. Strangely enough, it was a night filled with continuous, purposeless laughter in his dreams.

♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣

The next morning, as planned, the survey took place. Raciel gathered all the courtiers, maids, laborers, and guards in the Star Palace and had them complete the questionnaires. By lunchtime, he had received a whopping 500 survey responses.

‘…But why is everyone so healthy!’

Flip! Flip!

Raciel’s hand flipped through the questionnaires rapidly. His bewildered eyes absorbed the contents.

Everyone was in good health.

It wasn’t just the Star Palace workers. Most of their families were also healthy. The worst health problems were minor ailments. There were no patients with severe diseases, life-threatening conditions, or anything that would cause a stir when treated.

‘It’s not like we only recruited palace workers from long-lived families!’

Raciel felt a sense of despair(?).

However, he hadn’t finished going through all the questionnaires. His hands eagerly flipped through the remaining surveys.

About 200 left, maybe… flip! flip! Around 100 left, possibly… flip! flip! Only 50 remaining, still… flip! flip! Just 10 left, please… flip! flip!

As the number of unread questionnaires decreased, his hands began to tremble. Then, at one point, his hands, which had been anxiously flipping through the questionnaires, suddenly halted.

“Huh?”

…He found it.

His eyes sparkled.

He swiftly scanned the questionnaire.

Within it…

[I’m not sure if this is something that can be written in a survey or if it’s a disease, but I’ll gather the courage to write it. I have an eight-year-old younger brother. However, once or twice a month, he starts foaming at the mouth like he’s possessed by a devil and his entire body shakes uncontrollably. We have consulted doctors, but no one has been able to determine the cause. The priest suggested that we pray fervently to drive out the evil spirit that seems to have taken hold of him.]

…was what was written.

‘This must be it.’

Raciel had a strong intuition.

He gave the order,

“Bring the person who wrote this questionnaire response to me immediately.”

♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣

The order was swiftly executed.

Two hours later, Raciel came face to face with the protagonist(?) of the story described in the questionnaire. It was the eight-year-old younger brother of one of the maids.

“Hello there. You’re George, right?”

“….”

The boy remained silent.

In the end, Raciel let out a wistful smile. This child could have been an energetic, mischievous redhead covered in freckles. But now, he was visibly tense. It was only natural.

‘He must have received an unexpected visit from the royal guards at home. As such, he must have been taken aback as he rode in a carriage to the palace.’

It was likely his first time seeing the palace. Moreover, the crown prince stood right in front of him, even addressing him. He must be wondering what was happening. His fear was likely overpowering his curiosity.

‘First, I need to help him relax.’

Raciel crouched down.

He met the boy’s gaze.

And he took something out of his pocket.

“Do you like candies?”

“……”

“This uncle, um, brother likes them. Shall I eat one first?”

Without waiting for a response, Raciel popped a candy into his mouth. The sweet taste filled his senses.

“Ah, it’s delicious. Now it’s your turn?”

He offered another piece of candy to the child. However, the boy hesitated and didn’t eat it. Raciel didn’t insist.

Instead, he spoke to the child.

“Truth be told, I wanted to meet you today because your sister asked me for a favor. She mentioned that you’ve been having a lot on your mind lately. But as you know, your sister is very busy working in the palace, right? She feels sorry that she hasn’t been able to listen to your concerns properly.”

“So, Your Highness… um, brother…”

“For now, just call me brother. Really.”

“…Really?”

“Of course. But it’s our little secret. Don’t tell those gentlemen over there, okay? If you do, they might get mad at me.”

“No way, you’re just tricking me.”

“I promise, I’m not. Really.”

“…Really?”

“Didn’t I tell you so?”

Leaning in closer to the child, Raciel raised a finger to his lips, signaling for silence. With one arm, he gently embraced the child’s small shoulders and guided them under the nearby table. In a hushed tone, he whispered,

“This is our secret spot. Those gentlemen outside won’t be able to hear us here. What do you think?”

“…I don’t think that’s true.”

“Ah, you caught me.”

“…”

“You’re clever, George. Kids these days are really smart.”

“But the other kids always tease me.”

“They tease you? Why?”

“They say I’m weird.”

“But you’re not. You’re not weird at all, George.”

“But I am. The other kids always say so.”

“That’s strange. I wonder why they would say that.”

Gradually, naturally, the child’s expression began to soften.

He started to open up.

In that moment, Raciel’s expertise in treating patients, honed during his time as an Oriental medicine doctor, dealing with many young patients who instinctively feared the clinic, came into play.

And thanks to that, just a moment later, he was finally able to pinpoint the precise diagnosis of the child who was described as being ‘possessed by a devil and experiencing seizures.’