Black Market Doctor

The next day, Eileen brought all of her weapons.

The Makarov pistol in the holster, the AS Val special assault rifle in her backpack packed with bullets, and the ceramic bulletproof armor plates that Utoya had insisted she wear.

She had taken the day off, so there was no need to go to school.

Even her cat ears weren’t fully covered, making it easier to activate her time-stop ability at any moment.

“So early? You’re leaving now? It’s not even light outside.”

Utoya had clearly not slept the whole night.

She had clung to Eileen the entire time, her arms wrapped around her as if to strangle her with affection.

But when morning came, she still chose to let go.

“I need to scout ahead and squeeze that old man for every last bit of money.

He won’t be at the school.

I need to check his situation early.

The shooting of the principal hasn’t even made the news yet, so he’s bound to be at home or hiding somewhere.

The sooner I get that money, the better.”

Eileen checked her bullets and firearms again and again.

Even though this wasn’t her first time firing a gun, this was the operation most likely to go wrong.

She had to guarantee one hundred percent caution.

“I have money.

I can give it to you.

Can’t you really let me support you?

No one will find you here.

I can even take care of your sister.

I swear I won’t lay a hand on her.”

Utoya kept trying to persuade Eileen, but her mind was already made up.

Here, in this city, in this country, orphans could never truly be free.

Not unless they left this war-torn land forever.

Half a million was the bare minimum.

If she wanted Rosakaya to live a better life, she needed even more money.

For that, she would pay any price.

“I’ll come back, I promise.

But don’t follow me, otherwise things will get complicated.

If you get caught, it’ll be trouble.”

Eileen could only force a smile and reassure Utoya again and again, even though she herself didn’t know if her promise was real.

…..

Walking down the street, it was still just as desolate as always.

Thanks to the Arctic Circle winds, Eileen could hide all of her tactical gear perfectly under a single oversized coat.

Leighton’s house was in the rich district, with private security, so there was little chance she could get inside.

But now it seemed he would most likely look for a doctor to treat himself first.

Of course, he couldn’t go to a hospital.

If they investigated, he would be the first to get exposed.

And conveniently, the hard drive contained the address of a doctor.

If he wanted to treat his wound, then a trustworthy, colluding private doctor would be the perfect choice.

And that doctor lived not far from the orphanage.

“Huh? Rosakaya?”

Eileen’s eyes widened as she saw the figure rushing from an alley.

Almost instinctively, she hugged her tightly.

Why was she here?

In this… black market area?

“Big sister, big sister, big sister…”

Rosakaya greedily absorbed the warmth of Eileen’s body, whispering incoherently, as if she wanted to melt into her.

Only after a long while did she reluctantly let go, pushed gently away by Eileen.

“Wait, Rosakaya, this place is dangerous.

Don’t stay here.”

Eileen scanned the surroundings cautiously.

Fortunately, there weren’t many people nearby, or Rosakaya would have been in danger.

Why was she wandering around here early in the morning anyway?

Though the orphanage was nearby.

“I… I didn’t see you come to school, so I wanted to find you.

And I won’t get hurt.

So… you’ll eat with me today, right?

Tonight?”

Rosakaya lifted her head, her green eyes swirling with something murky and unreadable.

Eileen suddenly felt uneasy.

If she refused, something very bad might happen.

But what bad thing?

This was her sister…

Eileen shook her head, pushing those thoughts aside.

She cared more about how Rosakaya found her, and why she had approached her with such a strange excuse.

“Okay… but how did you find me?

Why did you come here?

It was… the doll, wasn’t it?”

Eileen sighed as she looked at the doll hanging on her Makarov.

Honestly, she wasn’t surprised.

Rosakaya had always lacked a sense of security, but to rely on her to this extreme…

It was almost like a child terrified of their parents leaving them.

“Mm… Sister doesn’t hate it, right?

You know about it, but you still kept it by your side.

So, I wanted to give you another gift.”

Rosakaya lowered her head, silently, carefully watching Eileen’s reaction.

When she saw no disgust, she lit up and leaned closer, so excited that she broke into a sweat despite the icy wind, her heart visibly pounding faster.

She carefully pulled out a slightly rough-looking box and handed it solemnly to Eileen, speaking softly:

“If other bad people… or anyone tries to get close to you, there’s something good inside that can help you.

You must keep it.”

After saying this, she seemed to make up her mind, walking quickly back toward the orphanage, turning back every few steps.

What a… cute child.

Eileen smiled indifferently.

If bad people came, her marksmanship would show them who the real prey was.

She didn’t open the gift right away, suppressing her doubts, and stuffed the little metal box deep into her backpack.

She quickly moved toward the address written in the hard drive’s data.

The address was in an area near the orphanage, mixed with old apartments and small workshops.

Stand-alone houses were rare.

Soon, Eileen found the target.

It was a freestanding house that looked out of place compared to the surroundings.

Brick walls and an iron gate.

A faded faux-stone exterior.

Heavy dark curtains drawn across the second-floor windows.

Most conspicuous of all, a black luxury car parked in the corner of the yard wall.

A visitor’s car, out of place with the rest of the area.

Leighton was indeed here.

Eileen circled to the side of the house, pressed against the wall, and listened intently.

The uncovered cat ears beneath her hood twitched slightly, all four ears picking up the sounds inside.

From within came muffled groans of pain and heavy breathing.

It was undoubtedly Leighton.

Then a calm, steady, almost caring male voice spoke, unhurried, soothing the patient:

“Mr. Leighton, please try to relax.

Your wound is rather complicated.

This bullet is custom-made, isn’t it?

It has incredible penetration, but fortunately it didn’t do too much major damage.

I’m cleaning away the necrotic tissue.

This process may be a little uncomfortable, but please trust my professional judgment.”

It was that private doctor… Dr. Harper.

A blond young man wearing gold-rimmed glasses and a white coat.

He looked gentle and refined.

But anyone dealing with Leighton could hardly be a good person.

“Uncomfortable? You call this uncomfortable? Harper! My leg is about to f***ing break!”

Leighton’s roar was filled with pain, but also with frustration at Harper’s excessive calmness.

“Hurry the hell up!

Quit dawdling!

I’ll pay you double!

Just get that damn fragment out and stop the bleeding!”

“Money is not the priority, Mr. Leighton.”

Harper’s voice was still even, as if he were discussing the weather, though his words carried a chill of calculation.

“The priority is ensuring you don’t suffer permanent damage or, worse, death from infection or blood loss.

As for efficiency, you know well that precise procedures require time and focus.

By choosing not to go to a proper hospital, you accepted certain… additional risks and costs of time, didn’t you?”

The last syllables stretched unnaturally, making it uncomfortable to hear.

The faint sounds of metal instruments working inside flesh followed, along with another sharp hiss of pain from Leighton.

“Don’t give me that crap!”

Leighton’s voice rasped with agony.

“That case… that briefcase!

You know what’s inside!

It’s in that lunatic’s hands now!

Harper, you’ve got to help me!

Help me get it back!

Or at least help me erase all the evidence!

Those photos… those photos must never get out!

Otherwise we’re both finished!

Don’t forget, those ‘special treatment’ tapes—you’re in them too!”

There was a brief silence inside, broken only by the soft clink of instruments.

When Harper spoke again, his voice was still gentle, but beneath that gentleness lurked ice.

“Mr. Leighton, I believe you’re mistaken.”

His voice carried just the right touch of hurt innocence.

“Those tapes are nothing more than recordings of my groundbreaking therapeutic methods.

No matter what happens to the patients, it’s all quite normal.

And I believe Mr. Remy won’t mind such minor… details.

But you, on the other hand—such a caliber of handgun can only be found with Suville Federation officers.

Think carefully about who you’ve provoked.”

Leighton seemed choked by his words, gasping violently, unable to reply, only moaning in pain.

Harper’s voice returned to its professional steadiness.

“There.

The main fragment is out.

Please endure a little longer while I flush the wound and apply compression dressings.

As for the matters you’re worried about…”

He sighed lightly, sounding full of understanding and helplessness.

“Once you get through this, we’ll discuss it at length.

After all, in this city, there aren’t many doctors who can provide such ‘special services’ and keep their mouths shut.

Wouldn’t you agree?”

Every word carried the clear undertone of “I am indispensable” along with cold-blooded threat.

Eileen leaned against the cold wall, the purple in her eyes beneath the hood flashing with gravity.

This Harper was no ordinary black market doctor.

Behind his mask of professionalism and warmth, he was a cold, greedy, manipulative snake.

And without a doubt, not a good man.