100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? Chapter 533 - Clinic

Lucien made his way to the East Continent.

The instant his feet touched the ground, he retrieved his Spatial Compass, letting it rest in his hand. The needle quivered briefly before settling with quiet assurance.

Seraphine.

Seran had informed him that she was currently overseeing a newly established branch in one of the major eastern metropolises.

Lucien didn't hesitate.

Voidcraft whisked him through the air with effortless speed, compressing the distance beneath him. Eventually, the city materialized in the distance, resembling ornate stonework, soaring towers, fluttering banners, and bustling avenues that blended seamlessly with ancient eastern aesthetics.

The Liberator branch was discreetly concealed. Perhaps too discreetly for normal sight. However, the Spatial Compass remained unfazed by any deception.

Lucien entered the city without attracting any attention.

He stowed Voidcraft, pulled his dark robe tighter around himself, and merged into the streets as if he were merely another wanderer.

The city pulsed with vibrant life all around him.

Lucien followed the compass's guidance through the lively chaos.

Ultimately, it pointed towards a grand compound nestled neatly within one of the more affluent districts.

He halted and gazed upward.

A clinic. Or rather, something that presented itself as a clinic, yet was substantially more.

The structure was immense.

Practitioners came and went, their faces etched with palpable relief. Some bore visible wounds, while others carried unseen afflictions. A number appeared to seek medical aid, while others seemed to have come for conversation.

Lucien offered a subtle smile.

This was precisely the kind of facade the Liberators would select.

A healing establishment was the ideal location for gathering intelligence. Injured individuals were prone to speaking freely. The ailing often divulged their secrets. Those in dire straits seldom guarded their words carefully.

Lucien entered with ease.

He maintained his presence-concealing robe, subdued his aura just enough to be unremarkable, and moved through the reception area like another patron aiming to avoid notice.

Everything seemed perfectly ordinary.

He passed by apothecaries, infirmaries, diagnostic chambers, and orderly queues until his attention was captured by a familiar figure.

Seraphine.

She was seated in an inner treatment room, exuding her characteristic serene composure. She was attending to a distressed mother, examining a young girl whose mana vessels had apparently endured some recent strain.

Seraphine's demeanor remained tranquil and steady, yet her touch was gentle. The mother had appeared anxious upon arrival and seemed relieved as she departed.

Lucien observed as Seraphine presented the child with a sealed medicinal vial.

The mother offered numerous bows of gratitude, the daughter echoing her gestures.

Then, they took their leave.

Lucien stepped forward, occupying the seat they had vacated.

Seraphine met his gaze.

Initially, suspicion flickered in her eyes. The heavy robe concealed much, and his presence was deliberately obscured.

"How may I assist you?" she inquired.

Lucien smiled from beneath his hood, lowering his voice to a pitch just different enough to prolong the moment.

"Doctor," he stated, placing a hand over his chest, "there seems to be something amiss with this area of my being."

Seraphine's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.

"What do you feel?"

Lucien leaned forward as if confiding a critical secret.

"I feel," he disclosed, "that my heart is hollow and yearns for you to fill it."

That was the signal.

Recognition dawned upon her instantly.

Her eyes widened.

A soft chuckle then escaped her lips.

Ah.

So, her initial suspicions had been correct.

"Then we must be swift," Seraphine declared, smoothly rising to her feet. "This situation appears to necessitate a deeply personal form of treatment."

Before Lucien could utter another word, she took his arm and guided him deeper into the facility with astonishing efficiency.

Around them, several patients and Liberator staff witnessed the entire exchange.

And all of them were left in utter astonishment.

This was because Seraphine had cultivated a formidable reputation throughout the city.

To the general public, she was known as the aloof physician of the esteemed eastern clinic, treating everyone equally. She was efficient with all, unfazed by status, wealth, lineage, arrogance, or theatrics. Her interactions with everyone were marked by the same impassive expression and the same unnerving level of skill.

To her staff, she presented a different kind of enigma.

Essentially eccentric, she was difficult to comprehend. At times, she exhibited an excessive interest in peculiar cases, and even more so in the insights those cases offered beyond the realm of medicine.

Never before had any of them heard her laugh at a patient.

None had ever witnessed her appear pleased to escort someone into a private chamber.

Naturally, this unexpected behavior caused considerable consternation.

•••

An hour later, Lucien stretched slightly where he was seated, while Seraphine adjusted her robe at the edge of the bed, a lingering warmth in her eyes.

Lucien met her gaze briefly before quickly looking away, lest that warmth escalate into further complications.

"Woman," he stated, "show some restraint. It is still within operating hours."

Seraphine responded with another chuckle.

These intimate moments were rare, and stolen hours, transformed from mere strategy into something warm and selfish, cherished through touch, were even rarer.

Yielding to the moment was not something Lucien regretted.

However, he now comprehended with greater clarity why Seraphine so often challenged rational thought.

She continued to gaze at him, a clear, lingering hunger in her eyes, before finally granting him peace to breathe.

Then, she stood and dressed herself properly.

Lucien followed her lead, re-fastening his robe. He paused before adding, "And do not employ one of your scent-based tricks on me again. It requires far too much effort to dispel."

Seraphine became instantly still.

She slowly turned her head.

Her expression turned unreadable.

After a silence that stretched just long enough to become ominous, she inquired,

"Why?"

Lucien blinked in response.

Seraphine crossed her arms, her gaze sharp.

"Did your other women become displeased?"

Lucien froze, his survival instincts jolting awake with a silent scream.

He recovered instantly, asking, "What other women?"

Seraphine regarded him with a look so steady that it made any form of spiritual pressure seem welcoming in comparison.

She then turned away with an offended, "Hmph."

Lucien watched her, a flicker of genuine distress crossing his features.

One moment she had been content and warm, and the next, she appeared as though he personally embodied the very downfall of civilization.

He felt he understood creation on a deeper level than ever before.

Yet, a woman's heart, he mused, remained a complex battlefield, riddled with unseen stratagems.

Lucien sighed and moved closer.

He embraced her gently from behind in a back hug, his voice low near her ear.

"I do not have another woman," he confessed. "There is only you."

That was all it took.

Seraphine immediately turned and kissed him with such sudden ardor that Lucien nearly forgot their entire preceding conversation.

Almost.

But as the kiss concluded, practicality reasserted itself.

Lucien steadied himself and conveyed the purpose of his visit.

He explained the function of the instant teleportation array.

Seraphine listened without any apparent surprise.

Upon his completion, she stated simply, "I have already prepared a room."

She guided him downwards through the facility, leading him to a specially prepared chamber concealed beneath the more conventional medical structures above.

Lucien gave his immediate approval.

Then, he commenced his work.

He began laying out the array while Seraphine returned upstairs to resume her duties.

The staff had not faltered in her absence, a fact that pleased her more than she outwardly showed. She had indeed made excellent choices; each senior staff member she had brought here had attained at least the Ascendant Realm.

Though they were healers, they were also keen observers, astute gatherers of information, and skilled handlers of it. The clinic's purpose extended beyond mere treatment of injuries.

It was a place of listening.

Patients, in their moments of healing, would speak freely. Merchants, while their ailments were being mended, would voice their complaints. And members of various Sects, when pain and relief loosened the rigid guard of their caution, would inadvertently reveal crucial details.

This multifaceted approach was the reason the branch thrived so successfully within the city.

As Seraphine ascended the stairs and returned to the main floor, several staff members' gazes immediately scanned her surroundings.

Then they peered behind her.

Finally, their eyes returned to her.

One of the senior healers, after a moment's hesitation, carefully posed the question, "Leader, where is the patient?"

Seraphine made no attempt to feign misunderstanding.

A smile touched her lips.

"He is my man," she declared. "You need not concern yourself with him."

A profound silence fell over the room.

The staff stared at her as if she had just announced the moon’s abdication from the sky.

For indeed, this revelation struck them with far greater impact.

Seraphine, their somewhat intimidating branch leader, had a man?

Several of them felt an inexplicable sense of personal betrayal by this announcement, despite having no legitimate claim to such feelings.

One younger healer appeared as though a cherished fundamental theory about the world had just been shattered before his eyes.

Another simply whispered, barely audible, "Impossible."

Seraphine, ignoring their stunned reactions, returned to her work, her mood noticeably improved.

This subtle shift, unfortunately, served only to solidify their astonishment.

• • •

By the time Lucien concluded his work on the array and emerged from the lower chamber, the staff's initial curiosity had intensified into outright emotional disarray.

He ascended the stairs now without the concealment of his hood.

The instant they properly saw him, several individuals visibly brightened, their reactions involuntary.

To compound their internal turmoil, the mysterious man their leader claimed as her own was remarkably handsome, possessed a composed demeanor, had warm eyes, and, most notably, appeared capable of surviving Seraphine's personal attention and still maintaining his upright posture.

This display was a significant blow to their collective morale.

Lucien, demonstrating his inherent civility, offered a polite nod to the assembled staff.

He then turned towards Seraphine, a palpable softness in his gaze that he made no effort to conceal.

Seraphine, ever perceptive, instantly registered their reactions and, true to her nature, took a certain smug satisfaction in them.

She moved towards him without delay.

Together, they stepped into a more secluded side corridor, where any eavesdropping would be harder to dismiss as mere coincidence.

Lucien looked at her and posed the question, "Would you like to accompany me and explore my territory?"

Seraphine froze mid-step.

For a fleeting moment, the pride vanished from her expression.

A deep sigh followed.

"I’m not prepared to meet your other women."

Lucien nearly sputtered.

"Not this again."

He stared at her, finding it hard to believe.

"As I’ve told you, there is no one else."

Seraphine slowly shook her head.

Her gaze then fixed on him with such profound seriousness that Lucien instantly grasped this was no longer a game.

"Perhaps not now," she whispered. "But I understand more than you think."

Lucien fell still.

She continued, her voice devoid of accusation, which somehow made it far worse.

"I don’t truly mind if you have others in the future," she stated. "As long as you don't forget me, that's all that matters."

At her words, Lucien became silent.

For now, the root of her pain was clear.

It was fear.

She knew more than she was letting on.

The system had revealed truths to her after she discovered her true nature and the reality of the Liberators. She was aware of Lucien's profound devastation after her death and how long it had taken him to find solace again. She even knew that other women would appear in his future.

And now, she felt unable to face them.

That was the core of her distress.

Lucien sighed and moved closer, his approach gentler this time.

He didn't immediately try to refute her.

He didn't rush to offer consolation.

Instead, he simply talked with her.

For a considerable time.

At times with gravity, at others with lightheartedness, and sometimes with unflinching honesty. He managed to draw laughter from her more than once. Gradually, he guided her away from her defeated silence until the shadow in her eyes began to lift.

Yet, he did not pressure her for a decision.

Not today.

Finally, Lucien gently touched her cheek and uttered, "Then not today."

Seraphine lowered her gaze.

A faint smile touched Lucien’s lips.

"But you will come one day."

Her eyes snapped back to his.

Her response wasn't spoken.

It was conveyed in the subtle, delicate shift of her expression as she realized he wasn't dismissing her fear but refusing to let it define her future.

Not long after, Lucien made preparations to depart.

He would first return via the teleportation array. The connection was established, the route secure, and the effort had proven worthwhile.

Seraphine stood in the corridor, watching his departure.

As he vanished, the silence that descended felt disproportionately vast for the space it occupied.

Afterward, a sense of emptiness lingered.

But it wasn't because Lucien had failed her.

She couldn't bring herself to blame him.

The reality was far more painful than any accusation.

She understood enough about the future to know that Lucien had been utterly broken after her death, requiring a long period to regain his footing. Others had aided him, mending the fractures left by his grief. They had remained when she was no longer present.

She harbored no resentment towards them.

Instead, she dreaded standing before the women who had healed the man she still loved, only to realize she no longer knew her place among them.

Thus, Seraphine remained in her quiet contemplation within the corridor of her hidden clinic for a while after he left, caught between yearning and apprehension.

And for the first time in many years—

she bitterly acknowledged that courage in the heat of battle paled in comparison to the courage required in matters of the heart.