One of the combat specialists for the other squad, the one who liked to talk a lot, rushed toward a monster, thinking he had the upper hand.It didn’t take a genius to see the way the monster whipped its tail back and forth.Too often, people focused only on the teeth and missed every other danger a monster posed.Sure, the teethwerea problem, but they were far from the only thing to be aware of.Well, that asshole learned that the hard way when the monster turned, catching him in the ribs with the full force of its tail.
I rushed forward, my body moving out of instinct.Just like Carter and Ingram couldn’t help rushing toward monsters, something in their blood wanting them to get into the fight, I couldn’t ignore it when somebody was hurt.And judging from the way that he went flying to the side, thrown at least ten feet, there was no way he wasn’t hurt.Sharp bits of gravel dug into my knees as I skidded the last foot to where he rested.I set my hands over his midsection, the information rushing into me as though it were printed on him.Was this how Shear saw the world?I could tell when somebody was hurt, when they had an illness or disease, when there was something that I could do to help it.It wasn’t always all that helpful, like meeting a stranger and knowing instantly their entire medical history.However, it was made for exactly times like this, when a moment delay in diagnosis could lead to death.
The esper whimpered, pushing my hands away, swatting at them as though I were the problem.
“Just relax.I’ll take care of it,” I tried to reassure him.
Clearly, this esper hadn’t dealt with healers much before.Then again, we were rather rare when it came to the general makeup of the esper population—only mentalists ranked rarer on the levels of regular designations.There were a few types that were so uncommon they didn’t even fit into one of the standard types.It wasn’t a shock then that this guy wouldn’t have a clue how to deal with my powers.However, I’d dealt with plenty of difficult patients in the past.None had been difficult enough to stop me from doing my job.
He gave in to my probing—probably because he didn’t want to argue anymore.
Broken ribs, four of them.
A fracture in his spine.
Pulled a muscle in his hip.
No internal injuries.
All that information floated to me, past my conscious mind, just facts that added to my plan.Not a bad injury, at least not for an esper.A civilian would stay down for months from something like this, but for an esper—especially a combat specialist—they’d heal up in a matter of a day and, by tomorrow, he wouldn’t even so much as limp.
It meant my job right now was less about saving him and more about getting him back into the fight, back to useful status.
That had been drilled into my mind in training, after all.
It was all about making sure that an esper could still fight, that they could keep holding the line.Nothing else mattered—not the long-term health of the esper, not giving a damn about their future.The Guild didn’t really care much about that.Instead, they focused on letting nothing get in the way of clearing and closing dungeons.They wanted to make sure that their army had every ability to save civilians, at least the ones they deemed most important.
I’d learn that lesson just like every other healer trained by the Guild.It didn’t mean I always followed it, of course, but it always weighed in my mind.
I patched the esper up quickly.I knitted bones back together, reduced inflammation around the wounds, forced extra adrenaline into the body to ensure that he could get up and moving again.I even had the ability to lessen the pain that he felt by turning off some of the neurons around the injuries.None of this would do any long-term harm, at least nothing that mattered.Since we didn’t live all that long compared to humans, it wasn’t like he had to worry about his joints once he turned a hundred.The esper took in a deep breath as he sat up, his eyes wide, surprise written across his features.
He patted his own front as though he couldn’t quite believe that he could move without pain.
“That’s…amazing.”
I had to admit, it felt kind of nice to have someone actually impressed by my efforts.Like anything, after spending enough time with people, they stopped noticing the things you did.
He hopped to his feet, spryer than I think he expected, and with barely a thanks thrown over his shoulder, he was back at the fight.Of course, the way he rushed in made me suspect I’d be healing him again before long.
I rose, surveying the battlefield.
Shear remained on the cliff, his focus down on all the moving players.He could transmit information to each of us from his position, and the way the monsters moved—not quite with the purpose they should have had—went to show that he was likely fucking with their heads as well.
With the number of monsters decreasing, it seemed that we were almost through this job.At least, that’s what I thought before the ground shook hard enough to knock me off my feet.
A loud cracking echoed, similar to before.Dungeons often settled, making noises that no one could quite identify, but this was different.It was as if something traveled beneath the earth, and I wasn’t the only one to lose my balance.
From just ahead of us, beside the pillar that housed the heart, the ground exploded in sharp angles, a rain of dirt.I turned my head and used my arm to shield my face from flying debris, and when I turned back toward it, when the dust settled enough to see, I knew we were far from done.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Yun
“You look way too tense,” the woman across the trailer from me said as she examined her long, artificially colored nails.
She reminded me of a bargain basement version of Mercy—poorly dyed blonde hair, clothes that were similar but not quite right, and sure didn’t fit her, and a false sense of arrogance that Mercy never had.In short, I got the sense that this was a girl who had grown up watching Mercy on the news, and when she turned into a guide herself, she figured she’d base her entire look on the other woman.
“You don’t get nervous?You never know what’s happening in there.”
