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256: F30, This is the Worst

256: F30, This is the Worst

She ended up in the hospital that very day, fully quarantined. There was no end to the ex-mayor’s complaints once he heard that she fully had her own room, not that he was in any place to do anything about it. After all, unlike him, there was a fairly good chance that her illness could infect not only goblins—but also humans.

Humans such as Moleman. Oh, and also his party, I guess.

But not me. Lucky, huh?

“This is the worst,” she says, which is awfully rude considering that I just brought her food. She’s not even looking at it. Is the window and the courtyard really that interesting?

“Moleman said you should be in bed as much as possible,” I say as I put down the tray on her desk. Because, yes, we have afforded her a desk. She’s got a desk, writing supplies, bookshelves and any book she might ever want, not to mention that she can buy whatever she wants from the shop. She’s really very fortunate, though she doesn’t seem to appreciate it. “Also, about what you’re wearing—”

“I’m not wearing a hospital gown!” she says, whipping her head around. Her face is all RED, though I’m not sure if it’s from fever or anger. “I’m not sick. I feel fine, so there’s no reason I should be isolated like this. You’re the reason I’m in here to begin with. So, why?”

“Why what?”

She storms up to me. “Why did you lie to put me in here?”

“I didn’t lie.”

“Oh, you didn’t. Because you’re such a terrible liar? Or would you never lie to Mole? No. I think you got me in here for a reason. Isolate me from everyone else. Me first, and then Plus and Jazz and Rat. Push us away and Mole will be all yours. Isn’t that it, Kitty?”

Alright, she’s lost me. What the heck is she jabbering about? “Um, no. That’s dumb.”

She takes a step back. “Right. Whatever you say. But don’t think I’m not keeping an eye on you.”

“And I on you.”

“What?”

“As in,” I say, trying to rethread the steps in my brain to figure out what I was saying, “I’ll be keeping an eye on you too, because, well, I’m the only one who can visit you and stuff. If your condition worsens, I’ll know. And, um, you won’t like hearing this, but moving around a bunch actually makes it worse. So, I really think you should take off the gear, maybe put your sword in your inventory, and lie down for a while. It’d do you good.”

She snorts. “Because you care so much. Gotcha.”

…Okay, I’m done. I don’t want to hang out with Miss Deppy Downer any longer. I mean, we fixed up this whole room for her, and this is the thanks we get? Wow. I wonder how Moleman can stand having her in his party.

I turn towards the door. “I’ll be going now. If you need anything, just send Moleman a message. Um, you can’t send me any, cuz they get lost in all the hate mail and I’ll miss opening it. If you want, you can also message me by flapping fiend or smoke signals, whichever has better service.”

Someone chuckles. When I turn back to the room, she’s looking out of the window again, back turned to me. Hmm.

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“So, um. Bye,” I say, and I only barely get the door to the homemade sluice open before a voice perks up behind me.

“Wait,” she says. I turn to look at her. She glances down at the floor. “There’s a book on my nightstand… My nightstand in my room at the mayor’s estate. I was in the middle of reading it, and I forgot to bring it along. Could you get it for me?”

“Uh,” I say, “sure.”

“Thanks.”

With my quest updated, I slip out of the room and into the accompanying waiting room. This whole place actually used to be the office and waiting room of the chief of surgery here, but he’s unfortunately been dispatched, so here we are. This naturally creates a sluice between her room and the hall outside. This is very useful for me since it gives me a room to de-cootify myself in. It’s especially nice because there aren’t any windows, and I’ve given specific orders that no one is to be allowed in here. Hence, I can do what needs to be done to fully remove any trace of the dragon plague.

First, I remove the leopard loincloth I was wearing and eat it. I normally wear clothes, but for this, I need something disposable. So, loincloth it is.

Next, I use a personal favorite of mine. [Peel].

With my skin removed, I no longer have to worry about pathogens being on me, and I can get rid of the evidence by eating it, which also allows me to recover my skin. As you might imagine, yes, this does leave the floor of this waiting room covered in sticky dark blood, but it’s fine. Nobody else is going to enter, because unless the human variant of the dragon plague is somehow milder, there’s no chance that Ursula is leaving that room alive.

It’s a bit of a shame, but I think this might be it. I’m not sure how the human variant develops, but if it’s anything like the goblin one, I’d wager she has maybe a month or so left.

But I’m certain of one thing. The plague can’t go on any longer. I refuse to let Moleman be infected with this. I’d rather die.

Once my skin is healed and I'm assured I’m not covered in cooties, I pull some actual clothes out of my inventory and leave the room.

“How is she?” Moleman asks.

“She says she’s fine,” I say in a way that makes it obvious I don’t agree.

“Ah, I see…” Moleman says. “Well, if she can talk normally, things aren’t too bad.”

“Something like that.”

We continue walking. I retell the last of how it went, and I almost fall into my old habit of following him everywhere when I realize my fault. He looks at me oddly. “What’s with the frown?”

“The what?” I touch a finger to my face. My lips are crooked down into a deep frown. Huh. “Well, it’s… I have to go get a thing for her from the mayor’s estate, so that’ll take one hour, and then it’ll only be like an hour left until lunchtime, so I’ll have to leave soon.” Which means I won’t be able to hang out with Moleman. This is the worst.

He smiles sympathetically. “I’d love to accompany you there, but the mayor is being a bit demanding. And I also have to meet with one of the judges regarding funding for the rebuilding of the cathedral, so…”

All of which is obviously more important than me fetching a book and getting her her next meal. Couldn’t she just learn to not eat like I did? Honestly, I don’t understand why they haven’t taken the no-eat pill yet. It saves money, it saves time, and all it costs is constant hunger pangs for the rest of your life! Easy trade.

But, yeah. This sucks. I give Moleman a nervous look. “But you’ll be okay, right? I mean, these aristocrats value looks above everything, so going without a bodyguard might be…”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Moleman says, smiling. “Plus will be coming along as a bodyguard.”

I feel something hollow ache in the pit of my stomach. “Oh. Yeah, okay. That’s… good.”

He pats me on the arm. “If your schedule allows it, maybe you can switch out with him this afternoon?”

For some reason, I heavily doubt it. “Yeah, maybe.”

Unfortunately, as I expected, this did not happen. I went to her room and awed at the dull decor in her room, grabbed the book, and questioned whether or not the plush rabbit on her bed was made of real fur or not. In the end, I decided to bring it back to her to ask. Besides, the craftsmanship was really good. I was assured it was a real rabbit until I touched it. Anyhow, I brought it alongside her lunch, and as Moleman had suggested before, I decided to try to sit in the room while she ate. She did not like it. Actually, she basically threw me out before I could even take a seat. Not very hospitable, but whatever. Oh, but she did keep the stuffed rabbit.

So, until her next meal, I was stuck wandering around, doing my ordinary job of noting down how soon people would die. See, that was the thing with the dragon plague. Everyone died. So far, nobody had survived it. Not even one. Drake pox was nicer that way. This guy would get better in a few days, this one had a week left and they could go home, etcetera, etcetera. Not at all like the dragon plague.

I guess, out of everything, the worst part is that I can’t hang out with Moleman. I don’t have the time. Like, what was the point of all this if I can’t even be with him?

Everything is stupid.

Once evening rolls around, after I’ve fed that cranky sickling her dinner, I spend a few hours going around the city eating rats. I ate all the rats in my shack, too. Unfortunately, I have a feeling that this will be far from enough. The city reeks with the stench of illness. Alleyways are littered with people who might as well be corpses already. And the houses are no better. It was bad enough with the drake pox, but now the rot is almost everywhere. It’s honestly really annoying. The city was hardly a rose garden before this, but I’m starting to think I honestly prefer the smell of slimy fish to that of rotting intestines.

But it doesn’t matter. All that matters right now is that I figure out some way of curbing the plague, while also ensuring that Ursula is the last human victim. Not to mention returning to my post as Moleman’s assistant. And while I’m at it, I might as well achieve world peace. Yep, that sounds like a realistic schedule for Tuesday.

I’d better get to it.