Parasites, Magic And Revenge

Raven walked over to the first man he had taken down and kicked him in the head with all his strength, smashing his face and rendering him unconscious. He was now ready to gather his loot, and he was quite pleased. Then he remembered that someone had witnessed all of this. He lifted his head and looked in the direction of the young man who had been beaten earlier. The guy looked like he was about to wet himself from fear. Raven, limping again, walked over to the young man and started to speak:

"I saved your life. You better keep quiet about this. If I hear anything about this anywhere, I'll find you and make you wish you were dead."

The young man suddenly nodded and started running. Raven knew it was now time to gather his loot. He decided to start with the man who had tried to run away since he was the closest and had a knife in his back. To prevent him from dying of blood loss, Raven carefully turned him over without removing the knife and started searching his pockets. The man had about 5 credits in his pocket—not even enough for a meal. Since he had just come out of a fight and his body had already begun to heal, Raven was extremely hungry.

Limping, he walked over to the first man he had knocked down. This one had a bag on his belt. Raven first checked the man’s pockets, which were empty. Inside the bag, he found a small packet of white powder. Raven, having grown up and lived on the streets of this city, immediately knew what it was. In fact, he knew the prices of all the drugs sold in this city. This particular drug was known as "Night Veil Powder." The name came from how it was said to cover the mind with a dark veil, putting the user into a sleep-like state. It was also rumored to cause hallucinations. Long-term use, and addiction, would eventually sever the user’s connection with reality entirely, transforming the hallucinations into dreams. The user would begin to live only within their own mind. Those in this state wouldn’t have the awareness to eat, so they would die from hunger, thirst, or external factors in a short time.

Raven had never used drugs in his life, even though people he trusted, whom he could call brothers, had. Most of them were dead now. The ones who survived had betrayed him. Normally, selling this packet would provide enough money to last him for weeks, but he had always hated drug dealers and couldn't bring himself to stoop so low. So, he opened the packet, dumped the powder into a burning barrel, and threw the empty packet in with it. Then, he continued searching the bag. Inside, he found a large knife with a black hilt and a black blade. Even though it was made of steel, it looked like it had been crafted by a skilled blacksmith. The patterns and serrations on it indicated it was a fine weapon. If he sold it, he could probably make at least 200 credits, but since he was currently weaponless and vulnerable, he decided to keep the knife and use it until he returned to the manor. He strapped the bag to his back and moved on to the last man.

He started searching this man’s pockets and, as soon as his hand went in, he felt something bulky. When he emptied the pocket, he found a large sum of money—at least 500 credits. The only explanation for carrying this much money was that he had just received it. This meant that the other two men had probably bought drugs from this man and paid him what they could for now, intending to pay the rest later. After all, this particular drug was one of the most expensive in the city, and 500 credits wasn’t enough. Feeling thoroughly satisfied, Raven stood up, strapped on his bag, and limped out of the alley.

After looking around a bit, he realized he needed to spend the night in a hospital rather than an inn. His stomach needed stitches, and his arm needed rest. Since he knew the city like the back of his hand, he made his way to the hospital. When he finally stepped through the door, the nurses at the front desk immediately noticed how bad his condition was. They tried to help him, but they felt compelled to back off because of Raven’s intense stare. He slowly made his way to the doctor’s office and opened the door. The doctor was so engrossed in paperwork that he didn’t even notice Raven come in. Raven unwrapped the fabric from around his stomach and lay down on the hospital bed. When the doctor stood up, it was only then that he realized someone had entered. When he lowered his head, he couldn’t make sense of the scene before him.

It must be some sort of joke the nurses were playing on him. They had to have brought in a corpse because, lying in front of him, was a person whose skin was pale, with bruises all over, and whose abdomen was nearly split open, exposing parts of their organs. The most terrifying part, however, was when the doctor looked up and saw this “corpse” staring back at him with cold, lifeless eyes beneath a mess of dark hair.

The doctor jumped back in shock, his heart racing, but before he could react further, Raven spoke in a calm, low voice.

“Are you going to do your job, doctor?”

The doctor adjusted his glasses and cautiously approached Raven again, this time examining him more closely. After a long, deep breath, he muttered, “How are you even alive?”

Raven remained silent, lying still on the bed. The doctor, now focused, continued, "We’ll need anesthesia. I need to stitch up that wound on your stomach and put a splint on your arm. I’ll also prepare some medication for the bruises."

As the doctor turned to leave, Raven grabbed him firmly by the wrist. “Don’t waste time with anesthesia. You have one hour to finish the stitching.”

The doctor, panicking slightly, replied, “But there’s no way I can stitch a wound that large in just an hour!”

Raven tightened his grip on the doctor’s wrist, making it clear he was not asking for a discussion. The doctor, feeling the pressure, quickly gave in. “Okay, okay. I’ll do what I can, but… out of curiosity, I need to ask you a few questions.”

Raven released the doctor’s wrist, signaling that he wasn’t interested in idle talk. The doctor, still feeling uneasy, gathered the necessary tools, glancing nervously at Raven. Normally, performing a surgery without anesthesia would be unthinkable, but it was obvious that anyone who could endure such severe pain and still be alive wouldn’t care much about the pain of surgery.

Finally, the doctor started both his questions and his work, stitching Raven's wound as quickly as possible while trying to maintain precision.