The Rebel’s Quack Doctor 21

Even though Jin’s stamina had improved somewhat, he still couldn’t walk very far. Just a few steps left him breathless, so of course our outing would be by wheelchair.
I had worried about the stairs on the passage I’d originally used to descend into the underground city, but fortunately this vast place had many routes to the surface. Some were gentle slopes rather than staircases.
The path we were taking today was one such slope, leading to a lakeside at relatively low elevation. A secluded spot—perfect for a peaceful walk, with beautiful scenery all around.
Besides, the men I was escorting… weren’t exactly ordinary people who needed to worry about common dangers.
One was the most-wanted rebel leader in the entire empire; the other was his right-hand man. Of course, the supposedly terrifying rebel leader was currently so frail that even a single child could probably overpower him.
“Is this enough? Should we add another layer…?”
Richard looked down at Jin in the wheelchair with deep concern. Jin was wearing his usual poet shirt plus a thin cardigan—apparently still too light for Richard’s liking.
“But—it’s summer, Richard. Dress him any warmer and he’ll get heatstroke.”
I sighed. Jin already looked suffocated with the mask on; the very suggestion of more layers made him flinch in horror.
“I brought a blanket just in case, so don’t worry too much.”
Richard still seemed anxious about letting Jin go outside at all. But Jin himself had insisted so strongly that Richard finally gave in without further protest and began pushing the wheelchair.
After climbing a long uphill stretch, we reached a circular door engraved with the same magical circuits I often saw in the underground city. Richard placed his hand on a specific point; with a soft hum, the door slid open.
“Please wait a moment. I’ll check first.”
Richard drew his gun and stepped outside to scout. Jin swallowed hard, visibly tense. I felt it too—the prickle of nerves. How long had it been since I last touched real earth?
“It’s clear. You can come out. Let’s go, Jin.”
Richard returned and pushed the wheelchair through. Rodent clung tightly to my hand, his face alight with excitement. That excitement was contagious; my own heart began to race.
“Wow! I’ve never seen that lake before! It’s so big! So pretty!”
Rodent dashed along the lakeshore, full of joy. Born in the slums of the city and brought underground before he ever saw the surface, of course he was thrilled.
“Rodent, don’t go too far. You’ll get lost.”
Richard called after him sternly. But even as he scolded, the look in his eyes when he watched Rodent—and Jin—was softer and warmer than usual.
Real sunlight—not the dwarves’ artificial version—poured down on me. Warm.
We’d come out in the morning to finish before the fierce midsummer sun grew too hot, but apparently I’d underestimated summer. It was already blazing.
The underground city maintained a mild temperature year-round, so the passing seasons were easy to miss. But standing here, summer was unmistakable.
“…It’s nice.”
Jin rose from the wheelchair and stood on his own two feet.
The moment felt strangely moving. When I first met him, he couldn’t even sit up in bed without help. Now he stood unsupported—not underground, but on the surface.
Jin closed his eyes and let the sunlight wash over him. Then he reached up and slowly pulled off his mask.
“Jin, the mask—”
Richard started forward in alarm, but I caught his hand and shook my head.
“Just for a little while. Isn’t it okay? He must have missed fresh air so much.”
Jin smiled softly and drew in a deep, deliberate breath, chest expanding. Was the outside air really that good?
After several long breaths, he took a step. Then another. Walking along the lakeshore—alone, without anyone supporting him.
But after only a few steps, he staggered. I rushed forward and caught his arm.
“Walking on my own… is still too much, huh…”
Jin murmured, expression tinged with sadness.
Seeing that look pierced something in my chest.
“Let’s keep going. I’ll support you.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
Jin gave a small smile.
Yes—I wanted to be his cane, his crutch, anything. As long as I could stay by his side.
With my support, we walked slowly along the shore—one careful step at a time. Then Jin began to cough lightly.
Oh no, our little sea pineapple… Already out of energy?
Richard strode over and gently fitted the mask back over Jin’s face.
“Maybe we should head back now, Doctor. Jin’s condition…”
Jin looked startled—Already?—but honestly, I agreed. Today had been enough.
It was hard to believe this short outing had produced sufficient vitamin D, but if he caught something worse by staying out longer, the whole trip would have been for nothing.
“We’ll come back tomorrow, Jin. For today, let’s go inside.”
Jin looked deeply reluctant, but eventually settled back into the wheelchair. His first outing after nearly a year and a half confined to bed had lasted barely ten minutes.
★
The short outing didn’t leave only regret behind.
Sitting comfortably in bed in the greenhouse, Jin quietly recalled the sensation of real sunlight on his skin.
Even after so long apart, the sun bestowed its gentle grace on everything beneath it—just as it always had. That soft, enveloping warmth was something the dwarves’ imitation could never replicate.
“…Are you very tired?”
His friend’s voice reached him. Eyes closed, it would be easy to assume exhaustion.
“No.”
The word came out colder than intended. Not because he meant it—but because his feelings toward Richard right now were… complicated.
Richard seemed startled by the tone. Jin rarely showed irritation, even when pain made him irritable.
“Jin, what’s wrong?”
Concern filled Richard’s face. He must have assumed Jin’s condition had worsened again. After all, Jin only ever snapped like this when the pain was unbearable.
‘Pathetic. Losing control of my emotions to this degree…’
Jin sighed inwardly. He had to rein it in. His loyal friend had done nothing wrong. Astrid was… simply someone anyone would fall for. Inevitably.
So Richard developing feelings for her was hardly surprising.
“…I’m sorry.”
Jin offered a hollow apology. Had he really fallen for her so deeply that his reason was crumbling?
The problem had started at breakfast—when he’d caught the unmistakable look of affection in Richard’s eyes as he spoke with Astrid.
How foolish. To realize so late that his closest friend of nearly thirty years harbored such feelings.
“Jin, if something hurts badly, just tell me. Or—no, I’ll go get Doctor Ober right now.”
Richard started to hurry out in a panic. Jin stopped his earnest, dense friend.
“I’m really fine. If you call her looking like that, she’ll come running with a face like the world is ending.”
He didn’t want to see that worried look on Astrid’s face anymore—not every time he was sick. He had never resented his own frailty this much. Every time he saw the distress in her green eyes, he felt utterly pathetic.
“Since when?”
At Jin’s question, Richard blinked at him blankly.
“I’m not you, Jin. You have to say it clearly or I won’t know what you’re asking.”
Jin couldn’t suppress a dry laugh. Right. You’re not me. Thank goodness.
Richard had realized his own feelings for Astrid—and immediately begun avoiding her. Jin had wondered why for so long. Now the final puzzle piece clicked into place.
That was just how loyal his friend was. The person who cherished him above all else, who believed in him unwaveringly.
And yet Jin—unlike Richard—was petty. Knowing his friend liked the same woman, he had lashed out with childish jealousy.
‘Is this really how the infamous Emperor of the underground city should behave?’
Even with his illness much improved, Jin had always been sickly. No one knew how long he would live. When this disease eased, another would surely follow.
That was why he had never confessed to Astrid.
But now, knowing Richard’s feelings, he felt a petty resentment toward him.
Richard was healthy. Strong. The kind of man who could protect Astrid from any threat in the world. Unlike Jin.
‘So maybe that’s why I’m jealous.’
Jealous of his own loyal friend. Was love really capable of making someone this foolish?
Jin had always possessed only wisdom—and now even that seemed to be eroding under the weight of his feelings for Astrid. If that was gone too… nothing would remain.
“No, it’s nothing.”
Jin lowered his gaze and smiled faintly. He couldn’t bear to meet Richard’s eyes. Seeing that, Richard looked ready to burst with frustration.
Jin felt sorry—but he couldn’t bring himself to ease his friend’s distress.
With his mind, he could easily invent some smooth excuse Richard would accept without question. But part of him wanted to let Richard suffer a little—as punishment for making Jin feel this burning jealousy in the first place.
★
Solter III lounged on his throne, chin propped on his hand in boredom—until the unbelievable report made his eyes snap wide.
“…Say that again.”
His voice—usually languid—now shook with urgency. The messenger dropped to his knees, trembling violently, terrified his head would roll.
“The Masquin ducal residence… was burned by the Liberators. They distributed the family’s wealth to the poor…”
“The next part. The next thing you said—repeat it. Quickly!”
Solter III clenched his fist, fury rising. His hand shook visibly from the force.
“The Masquin ducal family was… brutally torn apart by the enraged citizens…”
The Emperor could contain himself no longer. He swept everything within reach off the nearby tables in a violent crash.
Duke Masquin was his maternal uncle.
The man who had killed the Empress’s son—the Crown Prince—and placed the insignificant second prince on the throne, granting him the glorious name Solter III.
And now that man had been trampled by filthy vermin.
The Emperor could no longer tolerate the messenger who had brought such news. He drew his sword and stabbed—again and again—until the body was unrecognizable shreds.
After seizing Bruvan, the Liberators had gone quiet for a time. The real thorn in his side had been the Black Spider. Yet now they dared commit such an unspeakable act…
“I thought the physician’s words were true when they went silent. I thought maybe Jin really was dying, just delayed a little…”
The Emperor’s voice returned to its usual drawl. Though madness still glinted in his black eyes—making it all the more terrifying to the ministers.
“No matter how I think about it, that bastard must still be alive and well. How has no one figured out how a man with three months to live is still breathing? How utterly incompetent.”
No one dared speak to the blood-soaked Emperor. Solter III let out a long, furious sigh.
“Your Imperial Majesty… that is…”
One minister finally spoke, voice quaking.
The Emperor lazily tilted his head toward him. Speak. Please let it be something I want to hear. Your life depends on it.
“From my investigation… five months ago, the Gray Lion Richard raided the imperial prison. Among the prisoners who disappeared was a woman named Astrid Ober…”
A faint memory surfaced. Yes. That had happened.
He had found it odd that they raided a prison holding none of their own people—and with no apparent gain—so he had filed the detail away.
“Astrid Ober? Who is that?”
Ober… A proper family name. Not some low-born wretch, then. Not one of the prestigious noble houses either.
“She was sentenced to hanging for unlicensed medical practice on Aub Street.”
Aub Street.
Solter III rummaged through his mind for the half-remembered detail. Ah—yes. There had been rumors among the filthy commoners of an “angel of Aub Street.”
“And?”
He had dismissed her as insignificant and erased her from memory after the execution. So what about her?
“There are rumors circulating that this woman is now the Leader Jin’s personal physician in the underground city. They say she… brought him back even after he had stopped breathing and died.”
The Emperor’s brows furrowed. What nonsense was this? How could anyone resurrect the dead?
Yet the common rabble’s absurd gossip was harder to dismiss when Jin was somehow still alive.
There had to be a skilled physician attending him—but a woman? An unlicensed quack?
“Hah. Ridiculous rumor.”
The Emperor scoffed. The ministers, taking their cue, began to laugh awkwardly along.
“Still…”
The room fell silent the moment he spoke again.
“It wouldn’t hurt to confirm. Issue a bounty. And make sure it specifies alive. This could be amusing.”
He smiled brilliantly.
The ministers stared, stunned that he could smile so brightly right after hearing his uncle had been beaten to death by a mob.
“Hmm… a bounty of… three million lumen, perhaps?”
At the staggering sum, eyes widened all around the room.
Compared to the bounty on the underground “Emperor” Jin, it was modest—but three million lumen was on par with the Gray Lion Richard himself.
“Why do you all look like that? Is there a problem?”
No one dared answer.
This was the command of Solter III, master of the Legnumia Empire. There could be no problem.