Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 220: One hundred and sixty-two: Recuperation (3)

Chapter 220: One hundred and sixty-two: Recuperation (3)

"Mr. Mischael, your leg has improved significantly, but you have been injured four times in the past year, and I must warn you, even if you are a Transcendent, sustaining injuries to your leg so frequently is extremely irresponsible of you," said the esteemed Lady Myem, a doctor at the Benevolent Church Hospital, looking at Mischael.

The latter sat in a wheelchair, smiling like a child in the early summer morning sun, "Madam, I had no idea the horse would be so unruly."

Of course, that was merely the excuse for the public, the last three leg injuries were all from assassination attempts, staged in public to divert suspicion. The first of those injuries had particularly irritated Mischael... It was from a duel with Malin Gaiate, and the outcome had been rather unpleasant. But more importantly, according to recent intelligence, Mischael had come to realize that he no longer stood a certain chance of defeating that lad—having pulled his girl out of the cracks in multiple timelines, Malin had become the highest echelon of dream lover in the eyes of the girls in Carterburg, with even his own sister saying that Malin’s only shortcoming was not being as tall as Jason, whom she preferred for his height.

Ha-ha, the foolish girl, Malin had started growing already. Perhaps in a few years, you will think Jason looks short next to Malin.

That being said, Malin was truly strong. Pulling someone out of a crevice was something Mischael wasn’t even sure he could have managed. And upon seeing the two branches on the young man’s arm, his only thought was that the lad had not only solved his sister’s issue but seemed to have resolved even his own.

Otherwise, where would this World Tree Sapling have come from? It’s not like the Nameless of this world decided to grant him another one.

So the only explanation was that Malin had traveled through the crevice to another world, solved his sister’s issue, and then obtained the World Tree Sapling from his other self in that world.

Yes, obtained, because it couldn’t have been taken by force. Only the virtuous are qualified to possess the World Tree Sapling. It wasn’t possible for Malin to kill his other self and snatch it, as doing so would result in the loss of his own sapling as well.

So Mischael had completely abandoned the idea of recovering face from Malin. By the definition in novels, such a person was naturally born with a main character’s template, and Mischael felt that, for the sake of his own life, it was best to stay as far away from him as possible.

With this in mind, after having his leg treated by Lady Myem and receiving the potion, Mischael gestured for his butler to push him away from the hospital.

As soon as he left the building, Mischael saw an elf gentleman ’fly’ out of a room on the opposite side of the corridor, smacking into the wall with a loud pop, to the amusement of his colleagues who burst into laughter.

"You dunce, you were supposed to feed the kids, not starve them," teased a fellow elf, seemingly enjoying the mishap.

"That was a solid punch, even the lad from the Greenleaf family ended up on the wall," a half-elf doctor said with a chuckle, collecting money from his colleagues.

It turned out to be a regular performance between the elf doctors and the giant youths. Thinking of this, Mischael gestured to his butler to push him over—it was an entertaining scene not to be missed.

In recent times, with so much strife, if one doesn’t choose to find some joy for oneself, what difference is there from a salted fish?

Entertaining such thoughts, Mischael saw Malin Gaiate of the Gaiate family walk out of that room.

Their eyes met.

In an instant, the corridor was filled with a silent confrontation, as though it were charged with a ’what are you looking at’ and ’looking at you’ tension.

"Young master, it’s Mr. Malin," the butler said with a smile.

My leg is broken, not my eyes!

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.........

After that doctor who had forced him onto a vegetarian diet was sent flying out of the room with a punch, Malin’s mood improved greatly. Shelton really hadn’t been wrong—today, Malin went to the Benevolent Hospital, where the director, being an elf, made an immediate decision upon hearing Malin’s complaint—Malin was to add a bruise structure to his own gloves and then punch the elf.

Malin agreed, without feeling that the director was taking sides with that guy—if he hadn’t added the bruise structure, Malin’s punch might have indeed killed the elf gentleman.

Malin was there for revenge, not to commit murder.

So with one punch to settle all grudges, he stepped out of the room, ready to collect his share of money from the betting elf when he saw Mr. Mischael and noticed his leg: "Mr. Mischael, your leg... what happened to it?"

"Don’t even mention it. Four days ago, I came across a spooked horse on the street. A lovely young lady was riding it, and I managed to grab the reins, successfully controlling the horse. But I didn’t expect that, as I returned the reins to the lady, the horse kicked me as it turned. I dodged with my upper body but couldn’t move my lower half fast enough."

After thinking for a moment, Malin felt he had truly encountered a genius—as over the course of the year, he had broken his leg four times, alternating between each one.

At that thought, Malin felt a bit awkward—he had previously suspected this man might be the criminal, but now it seemed, given his luck, it would be better not to be a criminal and instead be a more widely appreciated victim.

"By the way, I heard from Clovis that you are hoping to collaborate with us on potions." Malin recalled the conversation he had with Clovis and thus broached the subject.

Mr. Mischael immediately nodded, "Indeed, I wanted to let Miss Clovis write any number she liked on a blank check, but she refused."

"Well then, Mr. Mischael, you put up the funding, and if we can use the alchemy workshop in the nearby city that belongs to you, I can allocate you a certain branding quota. As long as you maintain the potion quality, you can sell them to the dwarves or other realms, such as the Eastern Region—I heard baldness is practically an endemic disease there." Malin had been told by Clovis about the large workshop this man owned in the nearby city of New Antas.

"Is that possible? How much of the profit would I need to give up?"

"Net profit, a seventy-thirty split, you get seventy, I get thirty. We’ll go through the Church of the God of Justice, how about that?"

"A pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Malin."

With the business concluded, Mr. Mischael chose to leave posthaste, leaving just Malin behind.

Having relieved the gentleman running the stakes of his hard-earned money, Malin patted the money in his hand, confirmed the amount, then handed it over to Clovis, who was waiting at the entrance.

"I’ve come to an agreement with Mr. Mischael," Malin said with a smile.

Clovis nodded, "I just saw Mr. Mischael, his luck is indeed terrible." Clovis folded away the Mowishes and then looked towards Malin, "Mr. Malin, what are we off to do now?"

"The usual, go and do the confirmation," Malin replied.

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