"Medicine... Give me medicine!"
The shop door flew open.
The one who came tumbling in, practically crawling, was the Hero Ares.
There was no trace of his old swagger. His skin had turned the color of dirt, and the joints of his fingers were bent at unnatural angles. With every move forward, his bones creaked. He tried to get up and collapsed, clawing at the floor with his nails.
"K-Kurt... help..."
His bones were starting to melt from the inside.
Behind him were his companions. Gillen the tank, Marie the mage—all of them lay sprawled on the ground before the doorway, groaning in agony. The bodies they had once been so proud of now creaked, unable to bear even their own weight.
"It hurts... it hurts so bad..." Gillen was crying like a child. Marie tried to lean on her staff, but couldn't even grip it and let it fall.
They must have made the rounds of every apothecary shop in the city. But not one of them could have done anything about the Bonemelt. Staking everything on one last hope, they had crawled here. To the shop of the man they had abandoned three years ago.
"Kurt! Your medicine can cure it, can't it!? Please, I'll pay! Name your price!"
Behind the counter, I was quietly polishing medicine bottles.
Wipe a bottle with a cloth, hold it up to the light, put it back on the shelf. My usual routine.
"Welcome."
"Don't screw with me! Hurry up—ngh, gah..."
As Ares tried to push himself up, his shoulder sagged limply. His bones screamed, and greasy sweat beaded on his forehead.
"Sir."
I looked up and smiled gently.
"Our shop has Terms of Service."
Ares's face twitched.
"'Persons who have insulted our staff.' 'Persons who have damaged our merchandise.' We must firmly decline to sell to such persons."
"Wha..."
"For three years, I kept all of you alive."
I came out from behind the counter, slowly, and crouched in front of Ares where he lay on the floor.
"I brewed medicine through the night, stitched your wounds, drew out your poisons. Behind every conquest that got you hailed as a hero, there was always my medicine. And yet you called that medicine a 'crutch' and kicked it away."
Ares's lips quivered.
"You smashed my bottles, called me a small fry, and abandoned me on the miasma-filled lowest floor. Do you remember?"
I looked him straight in the eye.
"You said it, didn't you? —A real hero doesn't need medicine."
"N-no... that was, um, just a figure of speech..."
"Then you don't need it, do you?"
I stood up.
"You were right. A real hero doesn't need medicine. Please, overcome this like a hero would."
"Wait, please wait! I'll die, I'm going to die like this!"
"Noel."
When I called her name, the silver-haired girl appeared from the back. Her beast ears twitched upright, and she looked down coldly at the men on the floor.
"Our customer is leaving. Please see him out."
"Su—re."
With one hand, Noel lifted Ares by the scruff of his neck as if he weighed nothing. The S-rank Hero who had once swaggered so arrogantly dangled like a kitten.
She tossed him out the door. His companions went tumbling outside one after another.
I stood in the doorway and bowed deeply.
"We cannot sell to customers in violation of our terms. —Kindly take your leave."
And then, with a smile, I added:
"Oh, and one more thing. I'd estimate about half a day until your bones melt away completely. I'd recommend trying another apothecary shop as soon as possible."
—Not that anyone in the world but me can make the medicine to lift that curse.
I didn't say it aloud. I just quietly closed the door.
"Boss." Noel tugged at my sleeve. "What's for dinner tonight?"
"Let's see. Maybe I'll make something good for a change."
With the screams echoing from outside at our backs, we went back into the warmth of the shop.
The medicine bottles on the shelves glowed quietly in the evening sun.
—I don't have to cut into my sleep for anyone anymore.
I make medicine for myself. And that was enough.