Bad Born Blood
Chapter 174

Chapter 174

Splash.

I immersed myself in the bathtub, letting my body relax. My prosthetic limbs, now submerged, felt sluggish.

For prosthetic users, bathing was not recommended. Every manufacturer included a disclaimer in their manuals stating they could not guarantee performance when exposed to water. Not that many people actually read those manuals.

Machines were vulnerable to water. In the lower districts, it was common to find people who didn’t even shower, let alone take baths. For them, wiping their bodies with a damp cloth was considered bathing.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to live in such unhygienic conditions. My prosthetics were custom-made and brand-new, meaning they were likely thoroughly waterproofed. Soaking in a tub for twenty minutes wouldn’t cause them to break down. And even if they did malfunction, there was someone in the same building who could fix them.

‘If I run into the killer, there might be a fight. I need to recover my nervous system’s fatigue before I go.’

I closed my eyes loosely, quickly relieving the exhaustion from the previous night. As soon as I shut them, my eyelids trembled slightly.

...When I opened my eyes again, twenty minutes had passed in an instant. Wisps of warm steam still rose from the bath’s surface. This was enough rest.

Shaa—

Stepping out of the tub, I roughly dried myself with a towel. I wasn’t someone obsessed with cleanliness or comfort. As long as I maintained a level of hygiene that kept me from getting sick, I was satisfied.

Creak.

I put on my clothes and gathered my equipment. Then, I accessed my terminal’s communication network and contacted the hospital where Gabriel was admitted.

—Ah, what’s the occasion? You don’t strike me as the type to check on a patient’s well-being every day like a devoted guardian.

Gaya answered in a relaxed tone.

"Is Gabriel in a condition to move?"

—He’s stable. Whether he’s capable depends on what kind of activity you have in mind.

"Just transfer the call to him. I have something to say."

—As his attending physician, I’d like to ask what exactly you plan on telling him.

"It’s something Gabriel will like."

—Hmm. Somehow, I get the feeling your business won’t be good for the patient’s mental health.

"I’m Gabriel’s guardian."

Stepping outside, I immediately headed for Gaya’s hospital.

—The hospital fees have already been paid. As long as the treatment period lasts, the patient’s well-being is my responsibility. If we’re careless, all that treatment will go to waste. Just so you know, there are no refunds.

"Annoying. Get Gabriel ready for discharge. I’m coming to get him now."

Even though I spoke harshly, Gaya’s voice remained unfazed.

—Come over and let’s talk first.

Gaya’s hospital wasn’t far from Jafa Corporation’s headquarters. That was probably why Jafa had recommended it in the first place.

I spotted the hospital. A three-story building tucked at the end of an alley, it was small yet gave off a sense of stability.

Creak.

Before I could step inside, the entrance to the hospital swung open. Gaya stood there, dressed in a loose-fitting white coat, looking straight at me.

"Gabriel is under my care for four weeks. No one can interfere during that time. Not even his guardian."

"Don’t make me laugh. If you want to stop me, why don’t you call the police? That is, if the police even exist in this district."

"...I don’t want to hurt you."

"I didn’t know you had a sense of humor. I almost laughed just now."

"If something’s funny, you should laugh. Laughter is good for your mental health."

Gaya leaned against the doorframe, his bright blue eyes locked onto me. His eyes weren’t always that color—they used to be brown.

Artificial eye glow.

The glow was faint, making it seem like only his pupils were dyed blue.

"You must have some cheap tricks up your sleeve."

I spoke as I reached inside my coat.

"Running a hospital in Border City without security isn’t easy."

Gaya stepped forward, subtly positioning himself in front of the entrance.

"Doctor, you don’t know who I am. You’d be better off stepping aside."

"And you don’t know who I am either."

"At the very least, I know you’re no combat expert. Maybe you were something once, but that’s in the past. I’m active. Just a few days ago, I killed several people."

I slowly walked toward Gaya. The pale blue light lingering in his pupils intensified. Now, it looked like a true eye glow.

Force was closely tied to Arcane Civilization, and the Holy Corite Alliance was the group most deeply involved with Arcane Civilization. Yet, even within Corite society, Force users were extremely rare.

Was Gaya a Force user too?

Force was an extraordinarily rare ability. Even in my combat-filled life, I had encountered Force users only a handful of times.

That nameless Coritan. The Holy Knight of Corite. Rick Kaiser, who had briefly used limited teleportation through an Arcane Artifact.

None of them were ordinary. Even the Imperial Guard’s engagement protocols classified Force users as extremely dangerous entities.

A power that defied the laws of physics.

Force abilities were countless in variety and didn’t adhere to physical principles, making them unpredictable. That alone gave them a significant advantage in battle.

For thousands of years, one principle had remained constant in human warfare.

"Know your enemy to secure victory."

Force was an ability that allowed one to conceal their true strength and strike with precision.

If Force could be activated solely through will—without preparatory motions or a catalyst—it would be an invincible power. Fortunately, its use required forewarning gestures and special tools called catalysts.

Clink.

Gaya pulled back his sleeves, revealing the bracelets on his wrists. The metallic rings clashed lightly, producing a crisp, ringing sound. As if in response to the chime, a thin veil of Force energy spread over his body.

Wooom.

The Force surrounding Gaya flowed down his form like a low-hanging mist.

The bracelets are his catalyst.

I couldn’t determine what kind of ability he had. The Force aura enveloping his body remained ambiguous. Still, my instincts flared, a red-alert level of vigilance surging through me.

I narrowed my eyes slightly, analyzing Gaya. I needed to use every ounce of my experience to predict what his "weapon" might be.

"Judging by how calm you are, you’ve seen Force abilities before. And you’re from the Empire. Given your abrasive nature... I doubt you had friendly conversations with Force users."

Analyzing others was my specialty, but that didn’t mean I enjoyed being analyzed myself. Being read so easily left a foul taste in my mouth.

I remained silent, giving away nothing.

...If he gets in my way, I’ll kill him. No—just subdue him. Gaya was simply a doctor trying to treat Gabriel with professionalism. Jafa had recommended him, meaning his skills were reliable.

If his bracelets are the catalyst, I just need to break or sever his arms.

Gaya probably wouldn’t go all out to kill me either. Our conflict hadn’t escalated to that degree.

Stay soft. No need to kill him.

I struggled to suppress the aggression rising within me. My forehead, where my frontal lobe was, throbbed with heat.

"Hoo."

I let out a short breath.

My whole body itched. A thousand ways to tear Gaya apart floated through my mind. A Force user? So what? How strong could he possibly be? Could he even compare to the true powerhouses I had encountered? He probably had one or two tricks up his sleeve at most.

Show me anything. I’ll break it down and crush it. I’ll shatter that dignified composure of yours piece by piece.

"Ha..."

I almost let out a laugh but swallowed it back. The thought of fighting an unknown opponent was already exhilarating. Every nerve in my combat system stood on end, craving stimulation.

Come at me. Anything will do. I just hope you’re strong enough to take at least one of my limbs. I know the thrill of breaking a strong opponent.

Clang!

Gaya clashed the bracelets on his wrists once more. The shimmering Force, which had flowed like a heat haze, unraveled into strands before vanishing completely.

Gaya had given up on fighting.

"Hey, what the hell is this?"

Annoyed at the anticlimax, I snapped at him. Gaya let out a deep sigh before breaking into a smile.

"You were right. There’s no point in showing off petty tricks against the ‘real deal.’ My power is only useful against third-rate thugs."

"And you’re giving up before even trying? What a pathetic mindset."

I kicked an empty can on the ground.

"I’m not a fighter. More importantly, I have no desire to fight a man who grins like that before a battle. It felt like violence itself had taken human form."

I couldn’t tell if that was an insult or a compliment.

"...So, what the hell is your Force ability?"

"That’s a secret. Come inside. Since I can’t win with strength, let’s talk instead."

"Sly bastard."

"Let’s call it wisdom."

Gaya lowered his sleeves and stepped into the hospital. I massaged my dry throat and followed him inside.

The hospital’s corridors were orderly, a reflection of Gaya’s meticulous nature. The occasional decorations were nothing more than abstract shapes and curves with no apparent meaning.

"Gabriel’s condition is terrible. Multiple worst-case scenarios have overlapped. PTSD, drug addiction, and nervous system overload from excessive cybernetic prosthetic use. Each of these alone is enough to damage his mental health."

Gaya said this before stopping in his tracks, looking at me steadily.

"What?"

"You’re probably carrying quite a few of those burdens yourself."

"Everyone lives with injuries, big or small—whether mental or physical. If you start whining every time you get hurt, there’s no end to it."

"That’s true. Pain shouldn’t be avoided. A life that completely eliminates suffering is just as destructive as drug addiction. If anything, a certain level of pain is necessary for a healthy life."

Gaya lightly flicked a balance scale sitting on a wall shelf. The scale tilted with a clear chime before gradually settling back into equilibrium.

"...But excessive pain breaks us. It leaves permanent scars and makes life unbearable. That’s where Gabriel is right now. His suffering has exceeded his capacity for resilience. He can’t get up on his own anymore. That’s what people like me are here to treat."

"Stop talking in circles. I need to see Gabriel now."

"I don’t have the power to stop you. But I’ll give you one warning—if Gabriel crumbles any further, there will be no coming back. People can die without physically ending their own lives."

I laughed. Gabriel’s hospital room was just ahead.

"Don’t worry about that. I’m here to do something great for his mental health."

I pushed the door open.

Gabriel, dressed in a hospital gown, sat staring blankly out the window. Slowly, he turned his head toward me.

"Luka...? Is that... you? Damn... it’s really not a dream, huh?"

I’d lost count of how many times I’d heard those words. His cognition and memory were clearly impaired.

"Snap out of it and get ready to leave."

"L-Leave? From here?"

"I found the bastard who killed your woman and your adopted daughter. Let’s go get him together."

Gabriel’s dazed eyes widened. He shot to his feet, practically ripping open his wardrobe.

"A-Are you serious? You actually found that son of a bitch? How?!"

He fumbled with his clothes, putting them on inside out in his rush.

"I did some legwork."

And I spent money. If it weren’t for Jafa’s financial backing, I wouldn’t have tracked him down this easily.

Thud!

Gabriel lost his balance while pulling on his pants and collapsed. He cursed under his breath before jabbing a finger at Gaya.

"Hey! Doc! Give me something that’ll jolt my brain awake like a bucket of ice water! Shit, I can’t think straight right now!"

He was asking for stimulants. I turned to Gaya and stared at him.

"...So you’re taking him to exact revenge on the one who caused his trauma?"

"Doesn’t matter if you oppose it. It’s already decided. And look—Gabriel’s thrilled."

Gaya crossed his arms, stroking his chin before responding.

"I have no intention of stopping you. Revenge can actually help with recovery and overcoming trauma. Just one piece of advice—if you’re going to do it, make sure you finish the job. Trauma clings like mold. It has to be burned away completely. If you leave it half-done, it’ll just blacken and spread."

"Didn’t expect you to endorse revenge."

I let out a low whistle.

"Who says an effective treatment has to be morally right? Humans aren’t inherently ethical creatures. Even less so in Border City."

Now that was something I liked hearing.