HTLCCBFT Chapter 209

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 209

“Oh, calm down, my good fellow.”

A deliberately drawn-out voice suddenly appeared.

Upon recognizing the owner of that voice, Gad—who had been panting heavily moments before while brandishing his cane, ready to continue beating the bloodied, unconscious servant—abruptly turned his head.

He stared coldly at the leisurely approaching figure, his distorted face twitching slightly as he forced out a stiff smile.

“Mr. Pharmaci.”

He spoke stiffly, casually tossing the blood-dripping cane aside. It happened to strike the lady hiding in the corner, trying to make herself inconspicuous, causing her to let out a short scream.

“All of you, get out.”

He said impatiently.

The servants immediately seized this pardon, scurrying out in haste.

Only the slowest young servant hesitated briefly before mustering his courage to drag away his badly beaten, unfortunate companion right under his master’s watchful eyes.

Fortunately, Gad—who was barely suppressing his furious state—paid no attention to his actions, merely sitting down on the chair with a dark expression.

Pharmaci unceremoniously took a seat in the guest chair opposite him. After studying him for a moment with leisurely composure, he remarked in a meaningful tone: “I was somewhat worried that you might have suffered considerable torment after being locked up in that young duke’s prison… Yet your complexion looks rather well, unlike someone who’s endured any punishment. It seems even that dark, filthy jail has received the benevolent care of that young duke.”

From an impartial observer’s perspective, as the most renowned apothecary in the city, Pharmaci’s visit to his newly-released ‘friend’ would mostly appear well-intentioned.

But Gad wasn’t that naive or foolish.

He knew perfectly well that Pharmaci’s words held truth.

As a former sheriff, there was probably no one more familiar with those places than him—aside from the actual scoundrels or unfortunate poor souls living in the prisons.

What he hadn’t expected was that merely three months after Duke Oliver’s conquest of Gregor city, the other party had been extravagant enough to implement near-complete renovations even inside the prisons that merely housed scum.

If the original prison had been a purgatory even devils wouldn’t approach, the current prison was cleaner and tidier than the old slums had ever been.

Of course, prisoners had to rise early for work—labor more demanding than that of serfs in the fields—and were fed the poorest quality black bread.

But they were allowed to eat their fill.

And during work, unless one deliberately slacked off, beatings were generally avoided, let alone other punishments.

Nights were spent squeezed into a large room with ten other prisoners—though as a noble, he’d received some ‘preferential treatment’, needing to share a room with only two others.

Despite his intense hatred for Oliver, who had reduced him to that state, and despite viewing those three days as unprecedented humiliation, he had to admit one thing.

Had he been placed in the pre-renovation prison he knew so well… he might have chosen suicide by the second day.

Countless thoughts raced through his mind, but Gad remained silent, merely fixing a gloomy stare upon the cunning old Pharmaci.

He waited until this hypocritical fellow finally dropped his pretentious, ingratiating smile, revealing naked scrutiny in his eyes.

“Lord Gad, I’m delighted to see you in good health. I shall take my leave now.”

Pharmaci slowly rose to his feet, repositioning his top hat as if this entire visit had genuinely been solely to confirm Gad’s well-being.

Just before completely turning his back to Gad and taking his departure, he casually inquired, “Since you weren’t subjected to harsh interrogation, I can reasonably assume you didn’t betray our plan out of sheer terror of him, correct?”

Gad wasn’t surprised by the question.

Pharmaci’s hurried visit served only one purpose: to confirm that Gad’s sudden arrest didn’t mean their secretly plotted scheme had been exposed.

He responded with a scornful laugh: “Mr. Pharmaci, perhaps you should consider this—if the Duke had truly learned of the vicious thoughts swirling in your mind, you wouldn’t be standing here unharmed. You’d have been torn to shreds on the spot by his hounds.”

“Not necessarily.” Though privately acknowledging the logic, Pharmaci refused to concede the verbal victory. A flicker of cunning crossed his eyes as he retorted, “After all, when walking such a dangerous path, we must exercise extreme caution until complete victory is ours, right? Just like that night three days ago—had you heeded my warning then, things might have turned out differently.”

Having successfully rendered Gad speechless, Pharmaci deliberately tipped his hat in a mockingly polite farewell, then departed at a leisurely pace.

However, after leaving Gad’s residence, he didn’t hurry home.

Instead, he wandered outside for a while, eventually dining at an upscale, beautifully decorated restaurant he frequented.

After whiling away the afternoon with drinks, he set off for home at dusk, adopting the demeanor of an ordinary merchant.

But the lighthearted smile he’d worn before entering the restaurant had vanished.

No one could have known he’d just completed a covert conversation with another patron seated at a nearby table.

—That was Trayd Union[mfn]崔德·尤尼恩(Cuī dé·yóu ní ēn) – ‘Trade Union'[/mfn], guild master of Gregor City.

As the guild leader tacitly approved by the castle to maintain trade order throughout the city, Trayd had always enjoyed a solid reputation.

When the new lord took residence in the castle, Trayd smoothly passed the review and was promptly permitted to continue in his position.

Pharmaci disliked placing all his bets on a single gamble: even while focusing his efforts on Gad, he saw no harm in exploring alternative paths.

If he could resolve his troubles through more amicable, straightforward, and legitimate means, it would clearly be more advantageous.

Abandoning Gad midway—or even exposing him before becoming too deeply entangled in the scheme—would be a fine alternative.

Yet Trayd had disappointed him.

“Establishing a hospital will deal a devastating blow to all physicians and apothecaries, so you want me to enter the castle and negotiate with the lord on your behalf?”

Trayd shook his head and said quietly, “As far as I know, His Highness in the castle has no plans targeting you at all. He simply hasn’t hired you.”

“Simply hasn’t chosen to hire us?”

Pharmaci was almost amused by this feigned ignorance: “Don’t joke, Trayd. You should know very well that if that damned hospital is established, we’ll have no business! All doctors and apothecaries will lose their jobs! All because of that ridiculous and shameful examination! Not a single physician passed that exam – just a bunch of laughable barber-surgeons and alchemists!”

Trayd’s tone remained calm and unhurried as he suddenly interrupted: “Pharmaci, your argument contradicts itself. If those employed to work in that hospital are all unlearned fools… then how could you possibly lose your jobs because of them?”

Pharmaci was momentarily speechless.

He quickly continued: “Of course it’s because they’re breaking professional rules! Yes, that damned place called a hospital actually plans to provide treatment for free!”

But Trayd wasn’t fooled by this evasion: “It is indeed free treatment, but medicines still need to be paid for, unless they can find the required herbs in the wild themselves, which requires certain knowledge and identification skills.”

Pharmaci gritted his teeth in frustration and revealed the humiliating fact he had been deliberately forgetting: “They don’t trust my medicines, only willing to purchase raw materials from me.”

Just selling raw materials?

What nonsense! That barely earns any money, and he was the most famous apothecary in the city! Yet because of that ridiculous examination, his entire life had collapsed along with his prestige—

“Anyway, I don’t agree with your position.”

Trayd was gradually losing patience.

This elderly man, gentle in appearance but shrewd in character, particularly skilled at mediating conflicts, now turned slightly, his eyes seeming to sparkle with wisdom.

Before Pharmaci could argue further, he set down his spoon, preparing to end this meeting definitively: “As long as your medicines are truly more effective, as long as those physicians truly possess the ability to treat patients… then I think the hospital shouldn’t affect you at all, right? Although illness is punishment from god, most people would be willing to offer all their wealth to delay answering that sacred call. Besides, those who choose to go to the hospital are probably poor people who can’t afford consultation fees and medicine, even slaves – they were never your target customers to begin with.”

Pharmaci couldn’t absorb any of this.

Hearing Trayd’s refusal, his face darkened immediately, and he sneered: “Don’t cover up your cowardice, Trayd. By refusing to provide protection for our seeking help, you just don’t want to lose your position as guild master! That’s why you’re willing to kneel and diligently lick the boots of that reckless young Duke!”

“That is my honor.”

Trayd replied without changing his expression.

He had already stood up and started walking out, casually tossing back one last remark: “That’s exactly what you’ve been dreaming of but can never obtain, isn’t it?”

Pharmaci slumped backward dejectedly.

Trayd leisurely left the dining room, and upon seeing his master emerge, the valet hurried forward to meet him.

“It’s almost dark. It’s a bit chilly, sir. Please wear an overcoat.”

The valet said this.

“Hmm.”

Trayd responded absentmindedly.

Squinting slightly, he gazed at the distant sunset nearly swallowed by the mountains, yet his mood was quite pleasant.

All people experience birth, aging, sickness, and death. Previously, only wealthy merchants and nobles could afford medical consultations and medicine.

But in a large city, for it to develop and prosper, brimming with vitality at all times, it absolutely cannot rely solely on wealthy merchants and nobles.

“No matter how many whimsical ideas that lord may have—which seem too fanciful in our eyes—and no matter how overflowing his kindness might be…” He spoke as if to the valet, yet also as if to himself, the corners of his lips unconsciously curving into a faint smile. “But so far, everything he has done has been right.”

The valet only vaguely caught fragments of the words and grew somewhat nervous. Leaning closer, he whispered, “Sir? Do you have any instructions?”

His master, however, smiled and asked him a strange question: “I was just thinking, when one can’t find the right direction, one should follow a wise leader and advance alongside him. Don’t you agree?”

Though not fully understanding the meaning, the valet nodded without hesitation. “You’re absolutely right, sir.”

Trayd then asked, “Would you go to the hospital? No, perhaps I should ask, have you been to the hospital yet?”

“Oh, of course, sir.” The valet replied honestly. “I accompanied my mother there just the day before yesterday. Apart from a silver coin for the medicine, they truly didn’t charge a single copper coin! To be honest, I didn’t have high hopes at first. But after she drank the medicinal soup, she seems much better today. They are truly remarkable.”

After all, he would never seek medicine from Pharmaci—he simply couldn’t afford the exorbitant sums demanded. In contrast, the newly built hospital, overseen by His Highness, offers free consultations to all tax-paying commoners.

What people need to pay is only a negligible fee for the herbs. They are even taught how to brew these processed medicinal ingredients! That is truly incredible!

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