A Person with Morals gets Transported to Another World [LitRPG] [Satire]

I had learnt all I wanted to from the Mages Society, so I made for the exit. There was no reason for me to stay longer. Before I could go, Eppy stood in front of the door and blocked me from leaving. “Where do you think you’re going, little brother?”

“Outside,” I answered. Once there, I would decide where to go from then on.

“With your talent, I can’t allow you to leave so hastily.” Eppy grabbed me and scooped me into her arms. It was almost a romantic gesture, except I could smell her plotting something, and also I could smell the cigarettes on her breath. She carried me over to the book pile from which she retrieved the paralysis book. She dropped me in the middle of it and commanded, “Read all of these. It shouldn’t take you long.”

I was dunked into hundreds of books, and each looked bigger than the book on paralysis. Roughly estimating, it would take an hour for me to completely read them all. “Is there any need for this, big sis? I’ve already learnt what I needed.”

She pulled out another cigarette and folded her arms over me. “Of course there’s a need. As a member of the Mages Society, you must learn as much as you can about magic. I won’t allow you to leave until you’ve read every book in this clubroom.”

I didn’t want to do this, but Eppy and the others had helped me immensely. I couldn’t start playing the brat now by refusing them. Anyway, I didn’t have any other plans for the day, so it wouldn’t do me harm to follow along.

An hour passed and my head felt like it was going to explode. I had absorbed so much information and somehow my brain was doing a pretty good job at retaining it. I wished it wasn’t. Having read so many books, one would expect a great deal of information to be forgotten or blotted out, however that did not happen. My head was filled to bursting with a mountain of arcane knowledge.

I had learnt the basics of so many different magic groups whether it was elemental, divine, illusion, or other. I knew how to cast almost anything, which might’ve been useful if I was able to cast any of it with a degree of talent. Because I had not practised any of the spells, if I were to cast them, their effects would be too miniscule to even register as having worked.

I was like a scholar who had absorbed all knowledge on the art of juggling but could not juggle for he had never thrown a ball.

Though my brain hurt, I did find the books to be interesting. It was cool knowing how each form of magic required a person to shape their mana differently. Water and wind magic were similar but distinct from each other. They both required a person to make their mana flow and spiral through a conduit. However, the mana conversion for water was denser and wind was fluffier.

And conduits were far more important than I had realised. Just because someone could cast magic with a wand, did not mean they could do the same with their hands. It increased my respect for Eppy, who I had seen producing fire through all sorts of body parts.

With every book read and my headache slowly fading, I got up and made for the exit. As I did, I noticed one book I had not read left on a table. It was thin and the handwriting inside was messy, but I had ten seconds to spare on it. After all, Eppy would have scolded me for leaving things unfinished, if I left without skimming it.

The brown-haired girl called out, “Wait! No! Don’t read that!”

It was too late; I already read it. I became dizzy and it was hard for me to stay stable. I stumbled around trying to keep myself upright.

“Oh no…” said the brown-haired girl.

“What’s wrong, little bro? What did you read?” asked Eppy.

The words were hard to say. “Those two men… they were…” I mumbled.

“They were what?” Eppy asked.

“They were student and teacher. Oh, the things they did…” Eppy held me up. She had two cigarettes in her mouth. The way they connected reminded me of the book. “What they did to each other can never be mentioned aloud. This book should be banned. Mortal eyes should be forbidden from witnessing such debauchery.”

Eppy helped me regain my footing and then rubbed my back to soothe me. “I’m sure it’s not that bad,” she said.

The brown-haired girl said, “Actually it is. Probably worse, to be honest.”

“Did you write that?” I asked the girl who was standing timidly.

She nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t expect anyone else to read it.”

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” I said. I staggered over to the door. With one final glance backwards, I said, “If you ever write a sequel, let me read it.”

“Huh?”

I thanked the club members for their help and left the school.

It was nearing evening, so I was considering retiring for the day. I had no mana left, which meant I could no longer cast any of my skills. If there was an emergency, I could still drink the mana potion that I had, but the smart part of my brain told me to save it for a better occasion.

On the way home, when passing through the markets, I wondered how to go about acquiring a magical conduit. I did not have any money, therefore buying one was out of the question. If I found a magical crystal, I could ask the Crafting Club to fashion a needle out of it.

“Please! Won’t you make an exception for me?” a hysterical old woman begged a man at the entrance of a building. Giving the stone building a glance, I saw that it was actually a clinic, and the man was a medical professional. He had a long white coat and pitying eyes.

“I’m sorry, Estle,” said the man. “I’m already swamped with patients and we both know you can’t afford the treatment.” It seemed they did not have universal healthcare in this world.

The woman sobbed and begged him to reconsider. I approached the poor woman and asked her, “What’s wrong, miss? Are you ill?” I believed that I may have been able to help her in some way.

“Yes,” she said with tears streaming down her wrinkled face. “My hands have been too stiff to move for so long now, and they give me great pain.”

“I see.” That was something I could definitely help with. The hard part would be convincing the old lady to let a boy like me treat her.

She continued, “I’ve tried other doctors, but Walthamstow here is the only one who can help me.” The man nodded.

“Why is that?” I asked.

“He is the only chiropractor within the King’s city,” she explained.

“Chiropractor?” I said in bewilderment. “Why would you want help from a quack like that?” I couldn’t believe that chiropractors existed in this world too. They were my mortal enemies in my past life. For each person they helped, they made another worse.

“Who are you calling a quack, boy?” asked Walthamstow. He was a bald 42-year-old man with slicked-back black back hair. His hair was visible because his coat collar had a reverse V-neck that revealed far too much of his nape and back.

“All chiropractors are quacks. You bring shame to honourable alternative medicine practitioners like me.”

“Oh?” he said with intrigue. “And what do you specialise in?”

“Acupuncture.”

“What’s that?”

“I stick a bunch of needles inside people to cure them of their ailments.”

Walthamstow’s slicked-back black back hair stood on its ends. With scorn he said, “And you’re calling me the quack? How dare you! My work is honest and good. I help people who have problems that traditional doctors are incapable of curing.”

“No! That’s what I do!” I said angrily.

“You’re just a boy!” he said. “What would you know of medicine? How would you know anything about healing people?”

“I’ll show you.” I put my hand on the old woman’s arm. “I’m going to cure this old woman, and I’ll do it free of charge.”

“You will?” Estle said, surprised that I was willing or able to help.

Walthamstow laughed. “I’d love to see you try.” He welcomed the both of us inside his clinic. Within, there were several patients waiting for their turn to be treated. Further in, four beds were positioned against the walls. One of them had a window above it.

“Poor feng shui too. You really are a quack,” I said.

Walthamstow didn’t understand what I meant, so he let my comment slide. He said, “You go ahead and treat her on one of the free beds. I’ll be treating my own patients while you do that. I don’t have time left to waste on either of you.” He turned to the waiting patients. “Next, please.”

A middle-aged man limped towards Walthamstow. He explained the troubles he had with stiff knee joints. The chiropractor laid him on a bed and got straight to cracking his bones. The sounds made me wince, but the middle-aged man let out groans of pleasure. His stiffness disappeared with each crack.

I didn’t want to be outdone, so I instructed old lady Estle to lay herself down onto the bed. I believed she had a form of chondro-arthritis that limited movement in her hands. To fix it, I placed sterilised needles all along her Bone Meridian. As her qi regained normal flow, she breathed sighs of relief. With each needle I punctured her with, her hand could move a little more.

By the end of the treatment, the stiffness in her hands had completely disappeared.

“Thank heavens,” she cried. “Thank you, boy! You’re an angel. I must admit, I doubted you could do anything, but I took the chance because I had no one else to turn to. I’m so glad that I did. My hands have never felt better.” She opened and clenched them repeatedly. “Thank you so much. I only wish I could pay you.”

“There’s no need.” It was reward enough to see the beaming smile on the old woman’s face. And it was more than reward enough to bear my own smug smile as Walthamstow came over to admire my work.

“It can’t be…” he said. “I was too busy to spectate your work, but you somehow did it.” He was surely confused as to how it was possible for a child to cure a person with needles of all things. “No. It must have been a coincidence. Or maybe a placebo.”

“Hey! Don’t discredit me now! You know I cured her. And I did it without any of your quackery.” I was haughty but I couldn’t help it.

“Humph. You think you’re hot stuff just because you treated a minor ailment? If you think your better than a master chiropractor like me, why don’t we have a contest? Until this clinic closes, we both shall treat my patients. Whoever cures more ailments will win and be declared the superior practitioner of alternative medicine.”

I didn’t even need time to think. “Deal!” I would take any chance at all to prove my superiority over a chiropractor.

There were only 2 hours left before the clinic closed, and about 8 patients waiting. If I wanted to win, I’d have to cure at least five of them.

I got to work immediately. The first patient complained of repeated migraines before bed. I located the root cause of his troubles and then began work on the meridian. Surprisingly, I worked quite fast. My hands were not any faster, no, but my mind was. I knew which points to strike. I didn’t second-guess myself. I was much faster with my treatment than I ever was on Earth.

In only 15 minutes, my patient was cured. He thanked me profusely and explained how no one else was able to fix his issue.

I was happy with the gratitude, but he also handed me a sack of 400 gold pieces. In a quarter of an hour, I had already earned so much. Why would I bother with guild work for a pittance when I could do this?

I cured the next patient just as quickly. They thanked me and paid 500 GP. Each word of gratitude pleased my soul, and the money pleased my pockets.

Over an hour passed, I cured 6 patients, and my earnings summed up to 2500 GP. I had all but forgotten about the contest. I was rich!

My source of income was over though. Walthamstow had treated 2 patients in the time it took me to treat 6. I was the winner of our little bout.

“We’ll call it a draw,” he said wiping a bead of sweat from his brow.

“Draw?” I shouted. “I clearly won! Get down on your knees and admit that acupuncturists are better than chiropractors.”

He laughed and ruffled my hair. “Alright, I’ll admit you’re good. You won. You’ve earned my respect, that is true. I do wonder, where is your clinic located, boy?”

My clinic? I didn’t have one, but I didn’t want Walthamstow to know I was too poor to afford one. “My facility is at the Eastern Forest Hidden Dungeon.” He had never heard of it, so he pressed me for directions, which I gave to him.

“Very well. I have a surplus of patients that need treatment, so I’ll recommend you to them.” He stuck out his hand for me to shake. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, young practitioner. Thanks to you, I can leave work early today.”

I reluctantly accepted his handshake, but what he said initially worried me. If he sent ill people to my dungeon, what would I do? I remembered that the System would alert me if someone entered my property, but how would I get there? I guessed I could just make my way over. If the patients were desperate enough to travel so far out of the way, they could also wait a few hours for me.

All in all, I was glad to have met this chiropractor. Our relationship would be an auspicious one.

Walthamstow picked up the sack of gold I had worked for and took it for himself. “Hey!” I said. “That’s mine. I got it from treating the patients.”

The filthy chiropractor said, “You got it from treating my patients. The only reason they let you work on them was because they had trust in me. Why else would they let a strange boy stick needles in them? This is my clinic, these are my patients, and this is rightfully my money.”

What a cheat! That was money that I had worked hard for, and he just took it all. I immediately thought of calling the police, but the law would definitely side with him, I knew. “You better give that back, or else!” I resorted to threats.

He stifled more laughter. “I suppose you did work hard, so you can have 10%.” He dropped 250 GP into my hands.

I wanted to protest, but it was better than nothing. I felt so cheated though. I knew that Walthamstow had to pay for rent or property tax. He also paid for the clinic’s upkeep, and the beds, and all the other stuff that goes into a business. Plus, his reputation was what brought the patients through the door, but despite all that, I felt like I had a right to the money.

There was nothing I could do about it. Maybe to get revenge, I could really make the dungeon into my own clinic.

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