Chapter 2.2
“Are you a healer?”
“I’ve learned a bit of healing.”
“All right! I’ll get them right away!”
The boy, who had looked down on me just moments ago, now nodded with a look of reverence and sprinted toward the kitchen.
“I have some savage leaves and baron root on me.”
At that moment, an adventurer who had been observing the scene handed me the two herbs I had mentioned.
“Charge the cost to those two later.”
“Will do.”
It seemed that people in dangerous professions often carried emergency supplies like medicinal herbs.
“Still, both of their injuries are too severe. These herbs won’t be enough.”
Experienced adventurers and mercenaries, who often knew basic first aid, could tell that the innkeeper and Renon’s wounds were deep.
“We’ll need to stitch them up.”
With that, I grabbed a strand of Renon’s hair and yanked it out.
“Here’s the alcohol, needle, boiling water, and the cleanest cloth we could find in the inn!”
The young worker quickly brought the items I had requested.
—
What followed was a whirlwind of activity.
Thanks to my maxed-out Dexterity stat, I swiftly stopped the bleeding and stitched the wounds in record time.
“Wow…”
“What is that…?”
“I can’t even see his hands.”
The onlookers gasped in awe at my lightning-fast movements.
Finally, I ground up the two herbs, applied them to the stitched areas, and wrapped the wounds with the clean cloth. The treatment was complete.
“Clean the wounds with fresh water each night, apply the herbs, and replace the bandages. They should heal completely before spring.”
“T-thank you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Both men looked at me with bewildered gratitude, staring at their neatly treated wounds. They were pale from blood loss but no longer in immediate danger. The crisis was averted.
—
“Let me go! Let me go!”
“Shut it and come quietly!”
In the background, the guards, who had just arrived, dragged off a now-conscious John.
“That John guy, didn’t he start trouble in the streets last year and spend the whole summer in the labor camps?”
“This time, he’s probably looking at five years minimum.”
“Five years in the labor camps? He’s as good as dead.”
“He really ruined his life, didn’t he?”
No one in the inn showed a shred of sympathy or pity for John as he was dragged away.
—
With the situation fully resolved—including the betting pool’s payout and the cleanup—gratitude and rewards followed.
“Thank you so much, sir. If I’d known you were this skilled, I would’ve given you food in the house…”
“And if my son offended you earlier, I apologize on his behalf.”
“My chest wound… It could’ve been fatal. Here, take this as thanks.”
Renon was the first to offer a reward, handing me a silver coin.
“Wow, a silver coin,” I muttered as I quickly pocketed it.
A single silver coin was equivalent to 100 copper coins—a half-month’s wages for a C- or D-rank adventurer.
To think I earned such a valuable coin within hours of arriving in this world!
“I should reward you too. Would you prefer another silver coin?”
The innkeeper, his right hand heavily bandaged, waved it slightly as he offered me payment.
Their eagerness to repay me wasn’t just out of gratitude—it was also rooted in the superstitions of the Northern Region.
Here, people believed that failing to repay kindness would bring misfortune.
Growl…
Before I could respond, my stomach let out an embarrassingly loud rumble.
“Hungry? How about a meal? Unfortunately, with my hand like this, I won’t be able to cook for a while…”
“Dad! Let me cook!”
“Not a chance, Tom. You inherited your late mother’s cooking skills, and I swore you’d never touch a pan. Remember, if you take over this inn, you’ll need a wife who can cook.”
Ignoring his son’s protest, the innkeeper turned to me.
“Or, how about this instead of another silver coin? You seem like you’re looking for a place to stay.”
“That’s right.”
“Then it’s settled. I’ll give you a room here at the inn free of charge until spring.”
While a silver coin was valuable, staying in an inn for over three months for free was a far better deal.
‘This guy’s sharp. He knows having a healer staying at his inn will naturally attract more customers.’
I could see the hidden meaning in his offer—nothing in this world came for free.
Still, it was a win-win for both of us.
“I’ll gratefully accept.”
Silently thanking my Luck stat for the fortunate turn of events, I accepted the innkeeper’s offer.
“But for now, you’ll have to find meals elsewhere. Go grab something to eat at another tavern or restaurant,” the innkeeper said, looking more at ease now that the immediate crisis was over.
“Speaking of food, how about I take over cooking while I’m staying here?”
The innkeeper raised an eyebrow at my suggestion.
“You can cook too? Well, with those quick hands of yours, I’d imagine you’re pretty skilled. Honestly, I’d welcome it.”
“On one condition,” I added.
“Name it.”
“I’ll take 30% of the revenue from any food I prepare. For example, if I sell ten bowls of stew at 1 copper each, I’ll get 3 coppers.”
“Hmm… That’s an unusual condition. Are you sure it’s worth it? Food doesn’t sell as much as you might think here. It might not be profitable for you.”
The innkeeper frowned, not in disapproval but as if trying to understand the unfamiliar terms.
“How about I just pay you a flat wage? Six coppers a day—top pay for a head chef. Plus, you’d still earn extra from any healing services.”
“No, I plan to sell a lot of food.”
“You seem pretty confident in your cooking skills. Well, fine. I don’t see any downside for me.”
When I didn’t budge, the innkeeper shrugged and finally agreed.
“I’ll show you the kitchen right away. Want to eat your first meal here while you’re at it?”
“Might as well. I’ll need to get used to the place.”
“By the way, my name’s Jack, and that boy over there is my son, Tom.”
“Arad.”
“Arad, huh? Nice name.”
And just like that, less than a day after being transported to this game-world, I’d secured money, a place to stay, and a job.
The prowess of a maxed-out production character left even me in awe.