Almost instinctively Daniel reaches forth a hand towards the gun, the old woman grabbing him. “Don’t touch that.”

“Bu…”

The doctor interrupts. “Don’t want you hanging around scam artists.”

Daniel stops at the suggestion. “What?! Ma he’s the real deal. I mean just look at hi… ”

“I’m going out for a smoke.” The old woman turns, placing the brown cylinder into her mouth again. She stares right at the Gunslinger, harsh words cemented with rare age. “Don’t hang around for too long or I’ll kick you out myself.”

Watching her trudge out, Daniel speaks up as the door slams shut. “I’m so sorry. I’m just… she’s seen a lot of things like this.”

“No it’s fine.” Alto answers without pause, reholstering the gun. A smile on his face, calmness found in the sanctity of chosen words. “I know.”

For a moment they pause in awkward silence, the trainee setting the mag-imaging gun onto the patient table as he attempts to formulate words. “I-I’m sorry but… wow. It’s an honor to meet you. Like, you have no idea how incredible this is. I heard about your travels, like it’s huge. But this?”

Alto tries to maintain a smile against unwanted, incoming fanfare. “Really?”

“By the Five and Savior you’re…. well it’s hard to say. Um… do you mind I’ve been wondering about this but could I do… like… a physical on you? Like, there’s tons of rumors about how fast you can draw your gun and… well I don’t think anyone’s actually attempted to figure it out how. I mean given the tensile strength of sinew and bone and everything it’s impossible to draw something that quickly without ripping your arm off? And you don’t have a prosthetic arm right?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” Alto answers.

“Well then there still has to be an anatomical factor then. I mean, if you can beat a Collective Auditor to the shot that means you’d be drawing faster than humanly possible.”

“Really?”

“A prosthetics course I took noted that Collective Mages have augments that push limb tensile strength to arcanite-plasteel alloy levels. And as far as I know, if you’re drawing faster than them that means the stress on your normal body has to at least leave some lasting damage. If it isn’t, then there’s gotta be an explanation otherwise.”

Slightly put off, Alto speaks honestly. “Sounds like you want to dissect me.”

“I mean if I can get a medical explanation of how Alto Carrin draws as fast as he does that’s a graduation thesis right there.” The trainee admits with colossal nervousness. “And plus, having the patient file of THE VIGIL would be legendary. Like, I’d frame it on a clinic wall for the eons of history. And don’t worry about the physical itself, I’m not gonna do anything crazy to you like core sampling. Maybe some blood at most.”

“I don’t know if I can afford it.” The Gunslinger notes as he checks his bullet pouch. “I just used most of my cash buying a meal.”

“I’ll do it free of charge.” The young man states proudly. “Actually no, this is payment for fighting off those bandits. Yeah that sounds good.”

“I haven’t fought them off though.” Alto observes. “They’ll be back…”

“Well when they do come back you’ll fight them off. Especially with that cursed Mage, Arsa DAMN HER.” Daniel corrects with absolute faith, using the forbidden one’s name alongside his curse. “And by then I won’t have the time to give you an exam with the amount of bodies I’ll need to drain. So what do you say? It’ll only take a half-hour MAX.”

The Gunslinger blinks, tentative answer given as he garners absolute innocence from the doctor in training. “Thank you. But are you even qualified?”

“Hey I’m a year three student at March Central.” Daniel explains with pride. “All I got left is one year in field work and a graduation thesis before I become a full-fledged doctor under the Federation. That’s much more than my grandmother actually.”

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“Really?”

The trainee sits straighter at the question. “I mean only in the big cities can you get an education these days. March Central is basically the best medical college in the Southern Reaches… besides University of December.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.” Daniel informs as he feigns humbleness. “My parents run a clinic in the old city quarter of March, so I’ve basically been a nurse-practitioner since I was old enough to walk. Stitching up amputated limbs, took out more bullets than I can count.”

“And you’re not going to do anything… dangerous.” Alto asks.

“Of course not.” The trainee nervously chuckles, then pauses. “I swear upon the Five, I will not do anything invasive…. well I mean gods above I literally am swearing to a piece of the five aren’t I?”

Insight, wisdom from the gunfighter. Truthful in youth, idealism tarnished but intact through a short existence in this world. A minor promise, yet still an oath beneath the gods taken. “I trust you Daniel Omen.”

“Really?!” The young man yells before taking a deep, calming breath. “Alright, let me grab a new patient file, please just sit right there.”

Standard affairs, the checkup proceeding with leading questions. Inexperience clashes with learned knowledge, the Old Woman returning after a few minutes with a scowl on her face. “You giving him a physical? That’s why he’s still here in my house?”

“Yes.” Daniel answers seriously as he reaches into the box of scanning tools. “Just finished with just basic medical history.”

“And?”

“Other than several major injuries in the past few years, everything looks normal.” The trainee-doctor reads from the paper. “Actually Alto you’re a lot younger than I thought. I’m actually almost his age.”

Doctor Omen rolls her eyes. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

Ignoring her, the young man continues. “Hold on, I'll get some biometrics from you.”

A mass scanner produced, the handgun-like device pointed at the Gunslinger sitting on the diagnostic table. A trigger is pulled, the usual data withheld as the machine sputters out a blood red error message in an ancient, arcane language.

“Huh.” The young man pauses as he checks the device, trying again to no avail. “That’s…”

“Any artifacts on you?” Doctor Omen asks.

“My weapon… if that counts.”

“I don’t know, does it?” The Old Woman sarcastically points. “If you really are carrying around a copy of a god gun piece then I’m pretty sure that would be the case.”

Removing his weapon from its holster the Gunslinger carefully places it onto the table, setting it aside within arms reach.

Retrying, the scan executes without issue.

“See?” The doctor scoffs. “You’re carrying around a magic item right there.”

“I think he knows that Ma.” Daniel counters as he writes down the measured weight. “Ok, now we need to do a bone density scan.”

Hypothesis, ideas, explanations of a seemingly impossibility in the world all unrealized. The examination completed without any groundbreaking findings, the simple reality of humanity revealed through scientific fact.

“Well turns out he's just a normal ol’ human being.” Doctor Omen cackles to herself as she leans back on her stool. “What’d you expect?”

Daniel sighs, a mixture of disappointment and anguish directed both to himself and the Gunslinger. “Well Alto, the only anomaly is your reaction time, which ranks you at ‘above-average’ compared to the rest of the Federated Cities. Other than that, the only real condition I can diagnose is that your body is about to enter the initial stages of malnutrition given your body weight.”

Doctor Omen speaks up as she probes her grandson’s knowledge. “Which means?”

The trainee pauses as he thinks. “Which means you’re nearing the brink of caloric starvation. For my recommendation, you should eat more.”

“But avoid any excessively fatty foods.” Doctor Omen adds. “So don’t eat whatever garbage Joe’s cooking for ya.”

Closing the medical file the trainee sits up straighter. “Well I guess this isolates it all down to the gun itself. No medical explanation for this… unless you’re somehow more than half-centralian with that weird biology of theirs.”

“I’m not.” He answers.

“By the way… ” Doctor Omen speaks up towards the Gunslinger. “You are going to pay for this right?”

Pausing, Alto blinks. A realization at the mistake of the grandson, he attempts to ease the situation with a smile. “I thought…”

“You just gave him a physical for free?!” The old woman turns to the offending party. “What are you doing we ain’t a charity!”

“Ma this guy’s literally killed a Collective Auditor. This could be my ticket to an early graduation thesis.”

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” A groan of lost idealism, old boney hands send a purposefully weak slap on the arm of the doctor in training, the physical act paling in comparison to the verbal assault that rises from the woman. “GET OUT!”

Reholstering his weapon, the Gunslinger quietly extricates himself from the occasion. Pausing at the entrance the man fishes forth a fistful of looted munitions, quietly leaving a scattering of rifle cartridges on the reception counter as he stealthily leaves. Pricing unknown, compensation assumed from quality and value of treatment.

A whole day’s meals lost in this moment, but earnable given enough time and honest work.