Doctor Bob carefully wiped the alchemical gel from the scanning crystal, his rare smile vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. His weathered features hardened back into the cynical, profit-driven mask of a black-market medic. He tossed the stained cloth onto his instrument tray and leaned against the rusty table, crossing his arms as his eyes locked onto mine.
"Well, Eirene, I'm going to have to charge you a lot of money from here on out, Those newspapers from earlier... word travels fast down here in the Tenements. That dude named Olive oil was captured by the Bureau and is being interrogated to death as we speak. Let's be real… if I ever get locked in those anti-magic chains and thrown into a high-security cell, I might snitch. I have a survival instinct. To compensate for that massive risk, I will charge you 50 silver pieces every single time you come through that door." Doctor Bob muttered, his gravelly voice dropping into a cold, transactional whisper.
"You greedy, spineless old bastard!"
Evelyn exploded instantly, stepping forward so fast her custom breastplate slammed against the edge of the examination table.
Her posture was violently rigid with annoyance, and the tips of her bioluminescent hair flared into an aggressive, dangerous crimson pulse that practically lit up the dim room. Her hand gripped the pommel of her vanguard blade, her knuckles whitening.
"You think you can extort a Diamond-rank hunter and a Luminous Knight? We paid you for your discretion, not for your cowardice!"
"Evelyn. Stand down," I commanded flatly, my mechanical deadpan cutting through her rising anger like a blade.
I didn't care about the petty extortion. In the grand calculus of our survival, 50 silver pieces was a microscopic price to pay to keep the Bureau's holy scanners away from my son. We had just secured an 18 million gold fortune for Elias; a few pieces of silver meant absolutely nothing to me.
Evelyn let out a sharp, deeply annoyed huff, her teeth grinding behind her lips. Grudgingly obeying my order, she tore her leather pouch from her uniform belt, reached inside, and aggressively slapped 50 gleaming silver coins onto the table. The metal clinked loudly against the rust-stained surface.
"Take your blood money," Evelyn hissed, glaring daggers at the veteran medic.
I stood up from the squeaky chair, smoothly pulling my dark traveling cloak back over my front and fastening the buttons to ensure my slim tummy, my pale skin, and my tightly compressed crimson wings were completely hidden from the world outside.
"We're leaving," I muttered.
Without giving Doctor Bob another glance, I turned my back on the underground clinic. Flanked closely by Elicia holding her casting staff on my right and a thoroughly irritated Evelyn marching on my left, we pushed through the creaking wooden door and vanished back into the dark, shadowy labyrinth of the 5th District tenements.
We navigated our way out of the damp, decaying corridors of the tenement building, stepping back into the narrow, shadow-drenched alleys of the 5th District. The air out here wasn't much better… thick with the scent of coal smoke and crowded poverty… but it was far away from Doctor Bob's transactional gaze.
Evelyn was still visibly furious, her boots slamming hard against the mud-slicked cobblestones with every step. Her F-cup breastplate shifted as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her bioluminescent hair tips still flickering with a lingering, irritated crimson hue.
"Fifty silver! Every single time! The absolute nerve of that old man. If it weren't for the baby's safety, I would have smashed his rusty scanning table over his head. He's just exploiting us because he knows we can't go to the official Bureau clinics!" Evelyn hissed under her breath, making sure her voice didn't carry to the nearby refugees.
"Let it go, Evelyn, We have the funds, and more importantly, we have our answer. A nephew. That's worth a mountain of silver." Elicia murmured gently from my right, keeping her casting staff held close to her side as she scanned the crowd.
I walked quietly between them, my mismatched jade-green and crimson eyes scanning the low-tier merchant stalls lining the crowded market street. Amidst the rusted ironware and cheap alchemical scraps, a small, covered stall caught my attention. It was piled high with thick, rough-spun skeins of wool and colorful yarns, likely brought in by the rural traders from the outer districts.
The image of that tiny, raspberry-sized silhouette on the monitor flashed through my mind. He was growing fast. By the time my accelerated pregnancy cycle finished, the weather would be turning colder, and a newborn would need warmth. Back before the world fell apart, back when I lived a normal life, I had learned how to knit. It was a quiet, domestic skill… one of the few fragments of my humanity that the blood curse hadn't managed to erode away.
I stopped in front of the stall, my pale right hand reaching out from beneath my dark traveling cloak to lightly touch a soft, sky-blue bundle of yarn.
I turned my head slightly toward my younger sister.
"Evelyn, do you have some spare money left? Buy me some yarns."
Evelyn blinked, her furious expression instantly melting away into utter surprise. The angry crimson pulse in her hair quickly shifted back to a warm, curious gold as she looked at me, then down at the colorful wool, and finally at my slim tummy hidden beneath the fabric of my dress.
A sudden, incredibly sweet smile broke across her features, her maternal aunt instincts completely overriding her lingering anger at the doctor.
"Sure, big sister, Buy whatever colors you want. I'll handle the merchant."
We stepped up to the modest wooden stall, the sharp scent of raw wool and dye instantly replacing the damp odor of the tenements. I looked over the various skeins before my eyes settled on a bright, cheerful shade of pastel yellow… a neutral, warm color perfect for a newborn boy.
"Can I buy some yellow yarns and some knitting needles?" I asked the elderly shopkeeper, my voice a quiet, steady deadpan beneath the shadow of my hood.
The old lady, her face lined with decades of hard work in the slums, looked up from her stool. She took in our formidable presence… the towering, armored Evelyn and Elicia with her glowing casting staff… but she didn't bat an eye. In the 5th District, keeping your mouth shut and doing business was the law of survival.
"That'll be 20 copper coins, dear," she replied smoothly, tapping a weathered finger against the counter.
Standing beside me, Evelyn froze. She stared at the pile of yarn, then blinked, a sudden, fiercely sarcastic look washing over her face as she mentally compared this transaction to our medical appointment.
"Twenty coppers, A whole bundle of actual, useful material costs less than half a silver, but that greedy old medic wants fifty silver pieces just to point at a glowing magic mirror. Unbelievable." Evelyn muttered under her breath, her eyes rolling dramatically as she reached into her pouch.
Still grumbling about Doctor Bob, she pulled out twenty copper pieces and handed them over to the shopkeeper. The old lady smiled, handing over two thick, smooth wooden knitting needles and three plump skeins of the soft yellow wool.
I took the materials, tucking the needles securely under my arm and holding the bundle of yarn closely against my chest beneath my dark cloak. The rough, soft texture of the wool against my newly regenerated left hand felt grounding, a tiny anchor of normal life amidst the chaos of my existence.
As we turned away from the stall and continued our march back toward the safer boundaries of House 132, Elicia looked down at me. Her G-cup frame shifted as she tilted her head, her crimson eyes wide with genuine curiosity as she watched my fingers instinctively check the tension of the yarn.
"Eirene, you actually know how to knit? Who on earth taught you how to do that?"
I kept my gaze fixed on the dirt road ahead, the passive healing loop she had cast still silently flickering across my pale, alabaster cheeks to protect me from the stray rays of afternoon light.
"One of my former guildmembers, Back before I became a demon. She taught me how to cast stitches during the long winter nights between subjugation campaigns." I replied flatly, my voice dropping into a quiet, nostalgic octave.
The journey back from the depths of the 5th District was long and quiet. We retraced our steps, marching in our familiar tight formation. I remained dead center, holding the soft yellow yarn and wooden needles tightly against my chest beneath my dark cloak, completely flanked by Evelyn's rigid white-and-scarlet uniform on my left and Elicia's commanding 5'8" frame on my right.
By the time we finally crossed back over the boundary lines and approached the stone arches of the 3rd district checkpoint, the mid-afternoon sun was casting long, dramatic shadows across the dirt road.
Stationed at his usual post was Renny, the 3rd gatekeeper. He was leaning lazily against the wooden reinforcement rail, chewing on a piece of straw. The moment his eyes caught our distinct trio approaching, his smirk returned full force, his gaze immediately landing on the bright yellow wool peeking out from the folds of my tattered cloak.
"Morning, ladies, Well, well, well, what do we have here? Eirene, a high-and-mighty Diamond-rank bounty hunter who knows how to knit? Caught caught between two biological giants, holding a ball of yarn like a sweet little granny. That is a sight I never thought I'd see. Anyways... toll and status cards." Renny called out with a chuckle, despite it being well into the afternoon. He straightened up, leaning forward to tease us just like before.
My jaw tightened behind the shadow of my vanguard hood, my dual-colored jade-green and crimson eyes narrowing into cold slits. I kept my mouth shut, letting my flat mask handle the annoyance. The guy was an idiot, but drawing attention to my Phase 5 biology over a casual joke wasn't worth the tactical risk.
Evelyn, however, was already thoroughly done with the day's financial extortions. She let out a sharp, deeply irritated huff, her bioluminescent hair tips giving a brief, annoyed orange flicker.
"Just take the money and log the entry, Renny," Evelyn snapped, stepping directly into his line of sight to block his view of my stomach and the yarn.
Without giving him a chance to push his luck, she pulled the required coins from her leather pouch and slapped the toll down onto his ledger along with our official cards. Renny raised his eyebrows at her sharp tone, but seeing the authoritative glint of her uniform and Elicia's high-tier casting staff humming on my right, he wisely chose to shut his mouth. He stamped the logs and waved us through the iron grate.
We didn't waste another second. We broke away from the main streets, slipping into the long, cool shadows of the residential sector. We navigated the winding, quiet dirt roads until we finally reached the familiar, safe threshold of House 132.
Evelyn unlocked the heavy wooden doors, and the three of us stepped inside. The moment the heavy locks clicked shut behind us, sealing us away from the prying eyes of the Bureau and the harsh rays of the sun, a collective wave of relief washed through the room. I finally pulled my hood back, letting the thick velvet curtains absorb the light as I looked down at the yellow yarn in my hands. We were home, the secret was safe, and my son's future was officially being built in the shadows.