Run A Medical Clinic In The Abyssal World

The sword was as dark as the night and as fast as lightning.

The orc saw him raise his hand, and with a flash of darkness, a deep gash appeared on his neck. The man stepped forward, supporting his body with one hand and delivering another sword strike to his chest.

"Hehe..." The orc let out two painful groans, then was silenced by a piece of cloth stuffed into his mouth. His eyes widened before he took his last breath, clutching the oil lamp tightly in his hand. Charlotte supported the orc's body and slowly moved it to the wall, leaning against a tree. Then, he quickly took out a cloth bag and collected all the dozen bottles of magic potions in front of him. As he was about to leave, he glanced at the bulging money pouch around the orc's waist and reached out to take it before tossing it into the bag.

With his loot secured, Charlotte sheathed his sword and swiftly disappeared into the darkness again, following the planned route to quickly leave the alley. The orc's body fell to the ground with a loud thud, smashing the oil lamp into pieces, and extinguishing the flame.

At that moment, the black magic guards at the entrance of the alley noticed something amiss. "Someone's stealing the magic potions!" Two black magic guards shouted as they drew their weapons and rushed into the alley.

More black magic guards rushed from Dragontail Street, converging Tovards the alley. Meanwhile, Charlotte had already reached a flat-roofed house several alleys away, listening to the distant commotion. He lowered his head to inspect his spoils—twelve bottles of magic potions and a heavy bag of coins. He didn't bother counting but took a glance at the increased wealth value on his attribute panel. There were a total of 15,000 copper coins, equivalent to his business turnover for two or three days.

Wow, unexpected and abundant gains.

After securing the money pouch, Charlotte prepared to leave this troublesome place.

"Shh! Keep your voice down. Let's try knocking on the door first to see if that dead tailor is still alive. The boss is interested in his little daughter. Don't harm her, or else the boss won't give you any good treats when we return."

"What if the tailor is still alive?"

"If he behaves, let him be; if not, help him behave."

"What do you mean?"

"If he's alive, kill him; if he's dead, bury him. Take his daughter and bring her back to the boss as a concubine."

"Understood."

Below is the alley, two furtive figures whispered, catching Charlotte's attention.

"Gangsters?" Charlotte crouched down, quietly peeking around the corner.

Two husky orcs, holding an oil lamp, were prying at the door, peering into the two-story building across from them.

Charlotte focused his eyes in the dim light and saw a worn-out sign hanging on the door, clearly stating 'Ivan's Tailor Shop'.

"Dragontail Street, Eighth Alley, Ivan's Tailor Shop..." Charlotte remembered Ivan's words in the morning. Unexpectedly, he had ended up at Ivan's doorstep after his journey. However, these two orcs didn't seem like good people; they were here to kill Ivan and take his daughter.

From their conversation, it seemed there was someone higher up pulling the strings. Could it be the owner of the Sibar Tavern that Ivan mentioned in the morning?

Charlotte tightened his grip on the sword handle, silently sliding down against the wall, and coldly observed the two individuals.

"Dead tailor, open the door! We've brought medicine for you!" The tall orc vigorously pounded on the door, holding a knife concealed behind his back.

The other fat orc huddled to the side, gripping a large iron rod raised above his head, ready to deliver a deadly blow to whoever opened the door.

Silence hung behind the door.

"Is he dead?" The tall orc muttered, increasing the force of his door pounding, continuing to shout, "Open the door! Open it now! Otherwise, I'll kick it down!"

The sturdy wooden door appeared frail in front of the orc, standing over two meters tall with immense strength as if it could shatter into pieces at any moment.

[Level 2 Husky Orc, Strength-type, teeth possess armor-piercing properties. Once bitten, there is a certain chance of contracting rabies!]

[Level 2 Corgi Orc, Strength-type.]

Charlotte's eyes lit up as two lines of notes appeared before him. Accurately assessing the strength of his opponents was crucial in battle.

Once orcs reach a certain level, they awaken their racial talents.

For example, the tall dog-headed orc standing before him.

Unexpectedly, it was still a Corgi.

A Level 2 orc, and a Strength-type orc at that. Their strength was at least 2000kg or more, combined with their racial talents and room for growth. Their strength was not to be underestimated.

Moreover, during the battle, he had to be wary of being bitten by a dog.

Rabies had no cure, and the symptoms were extremely painful. He didn't want to suffer a tragic fate just because he got bitten by a dog.

The opponents' target was Ivan and his daughter. Since he had stumbled upon them, he couldn't simply turn a blind eye.

The black cloak perfectly concealed his presence, so the two dog-headed orcs didn't notice him within a five-meter radius.

Dealing with two orcs simultaneously, especially in a cross-tier battle, required Charlotte's mind to be exceptionally calm at this moment.

When facing more enemies, the most important thing was to strike with a single blow.

As long as he killed the Corgi, the remaining orc wouldn't pose much of a threat.

And he had to keep the noise of the battle to a minimum. The Black Magic Guards in Tova Street were currently searching for him, and if the commotion here attracted them, it would spell big trouble.

The Corgi orc knocked on the door for a while, but when there was still no response from inside, his expression turned cold. He glanced at the Corgi and nodded.

Understanding the signal, the Corgi raised the iron rod in his hand, ready to strike the door.

"Cough, cough... I'm out of money and can't afford the medicine. Please leave..." Just then, a weak voice sounded from behind the door.

The Corgi orc raised his hand, halting the Corgi's movement. His voice softened a bit as he said, "It's all right if you're out of money. Just hand over your daughter to us, and these two bottles of magic potions will be yours."

"You can leave now! Tell Sibar that even if I die, I will never give my daughter to you! Give up on that idea!" Ivan's voice grew agitated as he rebuked them.

"Heh, stubborn tailor. If you're begging for death, I'll grant your wish tonight!" The Corgi orc's face twisted into a cruel smile. He took a step back and waved his hand to Tovard the Corgi.

The Corgi raised the iron rod in his hand once again and brought it down on the door.

Bang!

A muffled sound rang out as a deep crack appeared on the sturdy wooden door.

Inside the house, a frightened scream escaped from a little girl.

The Corgi and the Corgi orc grinned.

Bang!

Bang!

The iron rod struck the wooden door, causing the crack to widen, growing bigger and bigger.

Inside the room, Ivan held a little girl in his arms, his eyes filled with despair as he looked at the expanding crack in the door. Hidden behind him, his hand tightly gripped a pair of shining scissors.

He had thought that without the magic potions, their lives would quickly return to normal.

But even without the potions, Sibar, that scoundrel, had no intention of letting them, father and daughter, go. He was never skilled in combat, and now that his body had been depleted by the potions, he couldn't even resist.

"Father, I'm scared..." The little girl buried her face in Ivan's embrace, her voice trembling.