Chapter 30

Michael lazily went through the report he got from Dr Kavins, comfortably sitting in the back of his car. To think I own a car like this, and that someone drives it for me.

The report was, according to the doctor, the most dumbed down explanation of the condition of tomorrow’s patient that could be produced, but reading through it was slow going. Michael didn’t understand most of the words—despite the doctor’s best intentions—as cancer was not an easy thing to understand for someone with no medical background. Researchers themselves struggle, or there would be a cure, right?

Still, it would be another hour before he arrived home, and any information he gleamed from the mailed document was a potential coin he didn’t have to spend while healing his patient to make up for his lack of information. Again, cancer was a tough subject to cover, but it was among the chief causes of death in the US. Moreover, it was not something that rich people could just throw their money at, at least until now, meaning that there was a huge market to be tapped.

***

“You know,” Old Dave said the next day, after Michael had picked him up from the pawn shop, “Mustang says he misses the little trinkets you used to bring us. You brought what, two of them? And already he wants more.”

“Wasn’t it three?” Michael said, “they were trinkets the dungeon gave me on the first floor so it wouldn’t look stingy with the actual rewards.”

“They were well made, or so he says.” Dave said with a chuckle.

“Too bad. It’s been a while since I went to the first floor.”

“You went there last Friday, no? That was, what, five days ago?”

“It feels longer, with the time dilation and all,” Michael shrugged.

“I bet. If I was fighting for my life day in and day out, I’d be cooked by now. I don’t know how you are managing. Perhaps I’m just too old for that, if I were young I bet I’d love the action.”

“It’s tough, at times.” Michael said. “But it’s worth it. It makes my blood boil, and I love seeing hard work rewarded.”

Dave looked at him. “Don’t get burned out, okay? You need to keep a level head, or you will make a mistake.” He sighed. “Did you ever just… stop and think about this whole damn mess, Mike?” Old Dave mused, “like, magic is real. You are about to heal a cancer patient. You are being ferried around in a luxury car with bulletproof windows.”

“I do, yeah.” Michael said, “what do you think I do at night in bed? Sleep?” he shook his head, a troubled smile on his face, “my healing takes care of sleep deprivation. Been a while since I last fell asleep quicker than two hours.”

“Damn. Tough. Anyway, here.” Dave said, checking the soundproofing barrier between them and the driver before giving him an envelope, “to take your mind off that. Things are moving with the Saint Hernest care facility. Now, listen, I need you to decide what you want to do with it. Keeping it empty seems like a waste of perfectly good money.”

“You have ideas?” Michael asked. “I know nothing of hospitals.”

“Thing is, it’s not a hospital.” Dave’s eyes glinted with greed, “it’s a private facility with top notch equipment. It already used to turn quite the profit, but I would expect that now with your healing…” he let the words hang in the air, “everyone will want to be there, just so they think they have a chance to skip the queue.”

“I see. I don’t really feel good about giving people false hope.”

“No false hope there, it’s not like we tell them anything. It will be all them, thinking that they have a better chance.” Dave said with a malicious grin. Seeing that Michael wasn’t amused, his expression changed with a sigh. “Listen, you told me the other day that when it evolved, your healing ability shrunk in effective range, right?”

Michael nodded.

“You also mentioned that you have another ability that allows you to manipulate magic itself,” Dave said. He had not been told about the latest breakthrough yet, but Michael wanted to wait until he had figured out how to better use [Mana Manipulation]. “Why not use it to force the healing ability to expand in range again? If you can do it, then Saint Hernest is the best place to heal people en masse. Even if you can’t, they can stay there until it’s their turn to be healed. Some patients are not easy to move around much.”

“We’d need staff.”

“Of course. I can handle it, with some help from Carmela. I don’t like asking her for help, especially after she has basically gone radio-silent since Monday.” He frowned. “You know what? I’ll handle it myself. We don’t really need her. She’s weird.”

“Her flirting really puts me on edge as well,” Michael muttered.

“It does, doesn’t it? Perhaps that’s exactly why she does it, don’t you think?”

“We could use Dr Kavins,” Michael changed topic.

“Oh?” Old Dave perked up, “how so?”

“Ever since he saw me heal the little girl—”

“Mr Naoshida’s daughter,” Old Dave supplied.

“Exactly. Ever since then he’s gone nuts. He’s sending me messages, reports, theories, ideas. He wants to understand how my magic, no, just my healing ability. He wants to understand how it works and he wants to make it work better. He also wants to do… questionable research on the people I heal.”

“I see! We can use him. He has contacts. If he’s so obsessed with this, and if he can find other people like him… damn, it could be a gold mine. I’ll speak to him.”

“I thought the same. Already some of his ideas could help me push the skill to the next level.”

“What about the rest of your skills? Did you tell him?”

“He has no idea. He only knows I can heal people by expending an amount of energy, unknown in nature, and that several factors seem to influence it. He doesn’t care about anything else. He wants to push the limits of this, though. Ever since he was told that the guy you found for today’s healing has brain cancer, he started sending me information about it non-stop.”

“Great,” For a moment, Michael imagined the old man rubbing his hands together like a rat. “Onto the next thing, before we get there. Here,”

“What’s this? It says here… environmental assessment? What’s this?”

“We got lucky, boy. There are a lot of abandoned coal mines in that area, and it just so happens that the land near the dungeon is a contaminated brownfield. I got in touch with the EPA, greased some hands so they got over our request quickly, and got back from them a list of requirements, restrictions and conditions to buy the land. With this, we can move onto the next step.”

“Did you buy the land already?”

“Ha! You wish! There’s a lot more steps to this. Besides, you’re in the red, boy, you need to heal a more people before we can proceed. But don’t worry about it too much. I need you focused on the right things, let this old man worry about bureaucracy. It’s a slow, meticulous process, you know? This is the first of many documents that will require your signature, better you read it well and sign it, so I can move on.”

“Shouldn’t I just trust you and sign?” Michael joked.

“Stupid,” Dave rapped him on the head, or tried to. Michael saw him coming, and protected himself with his hand.

Skill Level up!

[Fast Reflexes] reaches level 3, thanks to your training, bringing the bonus to 30%.

Huh.

Dave sighed. “Never sign without reading. Now, shut up and read.”

***

“Travis Tyrell.” Said Dave as they went to change clothes. Even though they weren’t doctors, they were going to look the part, if anything to put the patients at ease. It had been Dr Kavins’ suggestion, which had surprised Michael since the doctor seemed to have given up all empathy for his patients now that he could use them as test subjects. “Deals with the OPEC countries, brokering oil that eventually makes its way into the European Union. Listen, boy, this guy is loaded. A true oil tycoon. A magnate. Big fish. He promised a lot of money to skip what miser queue there is for your healing.”

“There’s a queue already?” Michael was surprised. It had been what, three days?

“You do one every two days. Even just two people make a queue.”

“Right, how much?”

“Ten million to go first.” Dave said, adjusting his glasses. He didn’t need them, but they complemented his wizened old visage well.

“So much?”

“To him, it’s pocket change. Besides, what’s money when every day could be his last?”

“Brain cancer, I get it. Has he been briefed?”

Dave snorted. “You mean, did we tell him it might not work? Of course. By the way, this one is mine, no Carmela involved, so the fee is only 1% rather than 2%. Thought you’d be happy.”

“Very. Carmela won’t be, though.”

“No. But then again, radio silence. She told me she needed money, but then just disappeared. She’s fine I think, just claims to be too busy to handle this at the moment. I don’t buy it, there’s too much money to be made, but she’s a grown woman and can make her choices.”

There was something in Dave’s tone of voice. Annoyance, maybe, or perhaps something deeper.

“Why does she need cash?” Michael probed.

“She’s trying to reshape the whole Kentucky branch of the Famiglia. You think that comes cheap? She says it’s to help you, but I wouldn’t be so sure.” Again, the tone was frosty to say the least. “I don’t really know the right people for this, but an errand boy I casually sent close to her place saw strange things happening there.”

“This all sounds like I need to speak with her.”

“Probably a good idea. I’ll try to arrange something. Want me to come too? I think it might be for the best.”

“For a fee?” Michael joked.

“Come on!” Dave snorted, “don’t be ridiculous. You pay for the trip and the food, of course, you are the rich one. But no fee unless we broker a deal.”

“Fine. Let’s go experiment on… I mean, heal this oil guy now.”

“Ah, one last thing.” Dave added almost offhandedly. “Mr Tyrell asked to see you in person before the procedure. I said no, of course, and then he went and offered five more mil to change my mind. Which, I told him, was your mind and not mine. What say you?”

“Damn,” he scratched his chin, “I know you want me to grow balls, but…”

“Yeah, it could be dangerous. But also an opportunity. Pretend it’s a dungeon boss.”

“You know what? I think I can do that,” he said, remembering all the embarrassing but effective speeches he gave to his troops in the dungeon. “Fine, tell him I will meet him. Since we are at it, might as well not sedate him as I heal, so I can get real-time feedback. Tell him it’s the price to pay, other than the five million, to meet me. He’s going to see these… nanomachines in action.”

“Damn, that’s cold. I like this new you. Do I just need to tell you to pretend you’re in the dungeon? I ought to do it every time I need badass-Mike, then.”