The ecstasy of healing lulled some hunters into restful ease. A green-scented mist numbed the sting—the burning pain, the torn flesh, the trauma from battlefields that nearly stole their lives. If a hunter managed to cling to breath, the mist could pull them back from death's grasp.
But none could endure it like I did.
Lorde sipped from a round bowl filled with potion, just delivered by the healer maiden. He took the moment to cast a scornful glance at a hunter in a mahogany cloak, who passed by his glass chamber with mocking eyes.
Every hunter who entered the Healing Dimension was treated inside a transparent room, where they could observe each other. Some even studied others as they lay battered and bloodied, half alive.
"The Central Hunters hold the record for most healing visits. What's with that? Are they just naturally weak or something?"
The man in the mahogany cloak spoke through broken teeth, while the healer was stitching up his right leg—the same leg that had nearly been severed by a mid-grade monster before he managed to take it down.
"You'll be receiving three upper teeth and nine lower teeth in about fifteen minutes. Please be quiet and drink your potion now."
The healer turned, reaching for a tray of gleaming tools floating nearby, preparing them for sterilization.
Curious about her work, the man couldn't help but ask, half amused, half uneasy.
"Are those... human teeth?"
The healer curled the corners of her lips backward in what looked like a smile—but a suspicious one.
"Of course. Why do you ask?"
A nervous chuckle escaped him. "Oh—no reason, no reason. I just thought you might be putting horse teeth in my mouth or something. Guess I was wrong—"
Before he could finish, the healer's slender fingers flashed like lightning, jamming a mouth plug deep into the cave of his nonsense.
His mouth was now perfectly sealed.
"Your guess was definitely wrong."
Her hand clipped the leftover thread from his rotting leg.
Then, with a slight tug at the left corner of her mouth, she gave a crooked smile while gazing at the teeth arranged in the metal tray before her.
"Because these teeth belonged to a chimpanzee."
The hunter's face contorted in silent rebellion. His eyebrows shot up in disbelief, his eyes widened in alarm, and his skin turned pale.
But the healer maiden had seen it all—hunters on the edge of death and their endless drama. She simply brought the bowl of potion closer to his nose.
"Please, inhale."
After he obeyed, the mouth plug was carefully removed from his lips.
Thirty calm minutes passed, and the tooth installation was nearly complete. Yet, his mouth couldn't seem to stay idle. He had a new string of questions bubbling up.
"Have you ever treated someone with a pet? What were they like? What clan did that hunter come from? Do you have any interest in hunters who earn excess goldi?"
A deep sigh escaped from her lungs.
"I don't know."
The man studied the healer after her flat refusal to answer his barrage of questions.
A floor-length skirt. A hooded shawl. A pale green tunic. Hair pinned in a tight bun. And that strange, unreadable personality. Of course the system had designed healer maidens to be boring—so not a single hunter would be tempted to fall for one of these robotic women.
The quiet clicking of metal tools inside his mouth moved with the rhythm of the healer's expert hands. Resigned, the man gave up trying to talk and let his eyes wander toward the room beyond.
The glass walls, once clear and ordinary, began to shift—first slightly foggy, then half-obscured, and finally, entirely clouded.
It baffled his senses. Something strange was happening.
The urge to ask had vanished—yet the man found himself consumed by a deeper, gnawing curiosity.
He didn't speak, but his face gave everything away. His brow furrowed into creases of suspicion, his eyes narrowed under slanting brows, and his lips puckered as he glanced repeatedly between the fogging glass and the healer maiden.
She noticed, of course.
"It's called the Phantom Mist. The glass used to build the Healing Dimension comes from that region."
She had just finished placing the last tooth and now turned her attention to cleaning the wounds on his left hand with soft cotton and another soothing potion.
"But isn't that... strange? How can an entire glass chamber be so completely swallowed up like this?"
The healer gave him a long, forced smile—one that lingered just a bit too long.
A Cursed Hunter had entered the Healing Dimension—a space created by his own ancient clan. The walls had caught the scent of their long-lost master's blood. And now, after thousands of years, they breathed it in again.
The Phantom Mist was the highest form of reverence among objects once thought lifeless. It was their way of saying thank you for being made useful. Spirits have an exceptional memory for the blood of their master.
"I'm sorry. I wouldn't know."
With that, she gathered her tools and gave a small nod, indicating her task was finished.
The healer maiden was just about to leave the glass chamber when another question slipped out.
"Do you have a name other than 'healer maiden'? What's your name?"
At the very least, the hunter seemed a little impressed by her skills.
"My name is Jun."
Jun when I'm healing. Add a Ji when I'm hunting.
She stepped out of the chamber, her eyes gleaming with light.
[Goldi has been added.]
[Shift as Healer Maiden has ended.]
Her crescent-moon eyes sparkled as she retrieved her bow from the corner of the underground chamber.
"Not bad at all this time. Time to hunt again!"
Her slender legs carried her away with a graceful, carefree stride.
Back inside, the hunter was left alone—now gripped by a sudden and massive dilemma.
[System Alert!!!]
[Your Goldi has been stolen!!]
[Alert! All your Goldi has vanished—thanks to a master-class thief now long gone.]
"What the—?! Did that damn woman just rob me of all my Goldi?!"