Olivia Nightingale had been living a relatively repetitive life for a good while. There was a flow to it—she would move to a new place, establish her practice in a place she could find patients, aid people for a while and earn a modest living, make attempts at furthering her knowledge through any means necessary, then run once authorities started to get wind of her. Or when public sentiment started to turn.

One had to be observant with such things—being chased out of a village by a pitchfork-wielding mob was not the most pleasant thing.

Thus, one could call her rather experienced in the art of making a quick getaway. 6 years of experience had made it routine. She hadn't stayed in one place for over three months since she was 16.

Thus, as she looked on her current circumstances, Olivia was not at all surprised to once again find herself running as fast as her feet could take her, hopping over fences and ducking behind alleyways, peering behind to see whether any [Guards] were on her track.

It hadn’t taken her long to organize her allies for a quick getaway. She had helped douse Fayette's wound with a healing potion, knocked the more awake [Guards] on the head a bit to help them forget, then spotted a nice out-of-the-way fence corner, beside which some handy crates had been placed. It was a quick up and over, and then they were in the streets. Moving through them was easier, she had the experience of many different escapades to lean back on.

This time, however, things were different. First: she was not only keeping track of herself as she slowly made her way through the city—but she was also guiding her compatriots along. Compatriots. She could scarcely believe it. How long has it been since I’ve worked with somebody else? Ever since the old man got himself killed, it’s just been me all alone, and my patients. Those don’t tend to stick around, though.

Maybe finding company was part of why she felt herself smiling? That was the second surprising thing about this getaway. Usually her getaways were a melancholy, sad thing—heavy steps weighed down by her work’s futility, just another inevitable part of life’s cycle. Now though, her steps had a spring to them. She felt she had finally accomplished something worthwhile, something concrete.

Olivia was practiced at stealth and escape, so she only had to devote half her mind to it. She dipped behind cover, checked corners, motioned her comrades forward, all almost purely by instinct. Her actual thoughts were focused inwards, on contemplation. These strange circumstances she found herself in gave her a lot to ponder.

She didn’t know the two women she was leading through the city that well to be honest—they had scarcely known each other longer than a day and a night. Still, she felt a new kind of connection there. The bonds of teammates, forged through trials of blood. Together, they had plotted an audacious plan, had the courage to attempt it, and so far, they had actually succeeded.

As they made their way through the city, Olivia kept glancing behind her, eyes wandering to her new comrades. Yes, she had to make sure they were keeping up with her practiced techniques of urban escape, but in truth, her eye was on them much more than it needed to be. She wanted to know. Were they feeling the same elation she was? What emotions hid under those facades?

The [Seamstress] was somewhat hard to judge. Her face didn’t betray much expression, as her eyes and mouth were stretched to a grim countenance, hiding what was really going on behind them. However, as Olivia tracked her more minute movements, she could sense some of the hidden emotion. The way the woman's head kept glancing this way and that, nervousness. The way her hands were tightly wound into fists, excitement. The way her steps carried her, confident and head held high, triumph.

The [Maid] seemed a simpler sort, one more concerned with the moment than the big picture. She grimaced at the dirt on her uniform, she smirked at the factory behind them, and she frowned at the grimy streets she was running through. Above it all though were those moments when her gaze would focus on something intangible and far away, and a savage grin would overtake her face. Evidently, the [Maid] was feeling it too—the thrill of success.

“What are you spacing out for? Are we getting close?”

Olivia snapped back to reality, and focused back on the [Seamstress] who was huffing at her. Right, they had achieved most of their goals, and now came the other critical part of every plot: getting away with it.

“We’re almost there, it seems like we’ve lost them.” She replied and moved forward, ducking behind the next street corner.

That was close. They almost saw me smiling like a silly fool. Focus, Olivia. The operation isn’t finished before the patient is safely back at home.

She peeked behind the next street corner, then ducked back behind a box, motioning for her allies to hide. They joined her as she silently counted to 5, after which a procession of [Guards] rushed through the street, past them. Seems like word is finally starting to get out. We need to hurry. Won't be long now.

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She looked behind her, saw Mireille and Fayette obediently huddled down, and signaled for them to wait. She then crept back to the corner, peeked over, and this time motioned for the others to follow. It was only a few blocks more to her clinic, and she felt her steps being pushed forward by her team, growing faster, firmer and above all, more confident.

Usually, scurrying away would have her feeling like a cornered rat, but now she too strutted with pride. Perhaps still somewhat like a rat, but this time like one who had managed to eat her way through a cheese storage. A soldier returning from victory.

She got to the final stretch, saw it was free of watchers, saw her clinic, then rushed for the final bit. Mireille and Fayette also sped up, now sprinting by her side as if it was a race. Olivia almost laughed.

She got to the door first, burst through, and then things got hectic.

A nervous Elise bounded out of her bed seeming a lot healthier already. Good, looks like she’s healthy enough to move. Fayette ran to the [Labourers] side, and devolved into an excited chatter, while Mireille collapsed onto the floor, panting with exhaustion.

“Elise, we did it!”

“Really? Are you—”

Olivia tuned out the chatter and got to packing. She had a lot of tools and would not leave anything behind. To an outside observer, her clinic may have looked like a cluttered mess, which was because it really was a cluttered mess. Somehow Olivia still had a knack for finding everything she needed, when she needed it.

She moved like a whirlwind, taking out bags and filling them with her tools and tonics, slowly working her way through the room. Her packing was so furious and efficient that it took the others out of their stupor too, and three gazes turned to her.

“Uh, Olivia?” Mireille carefully asked. “Why are you packing in such a hurry?”

Olivia stopped for a brief second, and turned to her. “What, did you think we were in the clear already?”

“We aren’t? We ran quite a bit didn’t we?” Fayette asked.

“You killed a Noble, apparently a grandson of the big [Lord] himself. Do you think he’ll let that pass in his own city?”

“What’s he going to do about it?”

Olivia gave the [Maid] a blank stare. “[Lord] Aumont is supposedly over level 50, and we are all still inside the bounds of his city. Do you know what kinds of abilities a high level [Lord] and his [Investigators] and what-not have?”

Fayette shook her head.

“Do you want to find out?”

She shook her head again.

“Then trust me. We do not want to be anywhere near here when they finally wake him up. Before you know it, we’ll be down in the dungeon, drugged, get our nails pulled off, interrogated—”

“Alright alright, point taken,” Mireille said, rising up back to her feet. “So, we have to get out of here, fast as possible? Fay, you’ve got our stuff in that bag of holding, right?”

“It’s an [Apron of Holding], but yes. But, what about the guild, do we need to tell them about the quest—”

“What guild quest?” Mireille shouted. “You’re not even doing any guild quests! There’s a city-wide search for us, why are you thinking about some guild quest?”

“Oh, yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

“W-will I be alright?” Elise asked, clutching her side as she paced. “Will they come after me and my family?”

Olivia went back to packing. “You should get out of this clinic as fast as possible at least. If you lay low at your home for a few weeks, you’ll probably be fine. Maybe. Hopefully.”

Olivia finished putting away the lasts of her tonics, hefted her bags up, then turned to look at her new allies. Fayette had somehow managed to get her uniform almost clean, some bits of spice still stuck and a cut at the side, and Mireille was busy checking through the [Maid’s] apron to see that everything was with them. Olivia took a deep breath.

She had never gotten into a situation like this before, so she really wasn’t sure how to phrase her question. Well, I guess I’ll just be direct.

“Hey, you two... This whole factory operation—I liked doing it. I think we did a good job here. Are you two going to do more things like this in the future?”

Mireille frowned, and began to open her mouth, but Fayette made it first. “Of course we are!” She shouted, raising her broom up. “How could I become the ultimate [Maid] if I ignored things like this? Though, mainly we’re going to be hunters, but if a situation comes up—” She whirled her broom around, switching it to a combat pose. “—I’ll beat any enemies of [Maids] down! Right, Mireille?”

The [Seamstress] sighed. “Well, I guess we are then. I doubt I could stop her if I tried.”

Olivia closed her eyes for a moment, and gathered her resolve. A career as a hunter, huh? I guess that could be nice for a change. This country could use a more direct hand to guide these things—enough with being reactive.

She grabbed her flask, took a swig, opened her eyes, then looked into Fayette’s. They were outwardly a cool emerald green, but deeper within, she saw a fire. A fire burning with indignity, ready to lash out at the wrongs of the world. Oliva felt her own heart stirring, rising up from the gloom it had been stuck in for so long.

“Well, would you like to take a [Doctor] along? Two’s hardly a party, right?”

Fayette’s eyes widened, and a smile returned to her lips.

Olivia realized that she too was smiling.

New party member gained!

Olivia Nightingale

Class: [Gutter Doctor]

Level: 17

Skills:

Medicine (3/4)

* [Comprehensive Diagnosis] - Rank I

* [Basic Alchemy (Remedies)] - Rank III

* [Basic Herbology] - Rank III

Surgery (4/4)

* [Bloodletting] - Rank IV

* [Sterile Touch] - Rank III

* [Numb Pain] - Rank I

* [Bone Cutter] - Rank I

Hypocritical Oath (1/4)

* [Transfer Condition] - Rank II

Capstone skills (0/0)

* N/A

Free skills (3/3)

* [Sneak] - Rank III

* [Forge Documents] - Rank II

* [Resist Poison] – Rank I