Chapter 25: The True Disease

If the Witch Council didn’t issue missions, where else could she get Magic Crystals?

Tia pondered the question carefully.

Magic Crystals were rare and generally could not be found within Hela City.

Those who truly possessed them were usually world-class powers—such as the Great Empires, the major guilds, or top-tier churches…

Churches?

Her eyes lit up.

There were churches in Hela City, and as far as she knew, they lacked manpower.

Consequently, they had followed the example of certain guilds and listed many commissions of their own.

The reward for these commissions was a currency known as Faith Gold, which circulated only within the church.

This made it the perfect medium to exchange for the Magic Crystals in the church’s collection.

However…

Hela City had recently tightened its investigation into Witches.

If she, the Daughter of a Count, frequently visited the church to exchange for Magic Crystals, she would likely attract the attention of the Inquisition.

If Mephia were involved, she would probably notice something unusual instantly.

Therefore, Tia needed to cultivate a “tool” who could specifically exchange the Magic Crystals on her behalf.

But who should she choose to be that tool?

Inevitably, the image of the young girl she had saved earlier at the Bird and Flower Market surfaced in her mind—Viola.

***

“Yo, we’re finally here. Viola’s house.”

In the slums of Hela City, a burly man nicknamed Scar roughly slapped the wooden door in front of him, causing dust to shake loose from the frame.

The man beside him was as thin as a monkey—nicknamed Skinny Monkey.

He rubbed his hands together, his narrow eyes gleaming with greed as he shouted in a slick, mocking tone:

“Do you have the money ready, Viola? We already came by to settle the arrangements earlier. Don’t forget to give us the money today, or else… you know the consequences.”

He chuckled twice, his unspoken words more chilling than what he had actually said.

*Creak—*

The wooden door opened from the inside.

Viola’s fingers tightly gripped her faded apron, her knuckles turning white from the force.

She opened her mouth, her voice so dry it was nearly impossible to hear.

“The money…”

“Let us in!”

Before she could finish her sentence, Scar shoved his way through the door.

Light flooded into the dim little house, making her small figure appear especially helpless beneath the shadows of the two men.

“I gave you more than half a month to prepare for the debt. So, I don’t want to hear… well, I don’t want to hear an answer I don’t like. Do you understand?”

Skinny Monkey wagged his finger, the threat in his words overflowing.

Viola took a deep breath.

“The money… is ready.”

With trembling hands, she pulled a flattened, old cloth bag from her person.

She held it tightly, as if grasping her last hope, and handed it over slowly and heavily.

Scar snatched the bag and tore open the knot in a few quick movements.

Twenty worn Silver Coins rolled into his palm.

He weighed them, stuffed them into his own pocket, and then frowned with a look of arrogant dissatisfaction.

“Hurry up and bring it here—the twenty Silver Coins!”

Viola looked up blankly, her eyes filled with confusion and terror.

“What?”

“Twenty Silver Coins!”

Viola defended herself urgently, her voice carrying the sound of tears.

“I… didn’t I already give them to you?”

“That was the service fee for us brothers coming all this way to your door! The next twenty Silver Coins are the money you actually owe! Don’t try to cheat your way out of this!”

This absurd reasoning struck Viola like a bolt of lightning.

She staggered back a step, her back pressing against the cold dirt wall as she shook her head in despair.

“How can this be… I, I don’t have any more money. I really don’t…”

Scar didn’t believe her at all.

His muddy eyes scanned the destitute, one-room shack like searchlights.

Suddenly, his gaze locked onto the bottom of a wooden cabinet in the corner.

A small edge of coarse, differently colored cloth was visible there.

“No money? I don’t believe that!”

He strode over, ignored Viola’s terrified attempts to block him, and bent down to roughly pull out an even older cloth bag.

He weighed it, and the dull clinking of metal came from within.

He grinned. “Isn’t this money? Hand it all over!”

But this was Viola’s final line.

She lunged forward suddenly, attempting to snatch the bag back, her voice becoming increasingly shrill.

“No! You can’t! That’s my mother’s medicine money! Please, give it back to me!”

Scar swung his arm easily, violently shoving her thin body away.

Viola crashed into the corner of a table and let out a muffled groan of pain, yet she still struggled to reach for the bag.

To this, Scar felt only a cruel sense of pleasure and impatience.

“Get lost! What medicine is she even taking? It’s better if she just dies sooner. That way, you two might actually live a better life and won’t have to worry about this scrap change every day!”

However, those words still failed to break Viola.

She drew strength from some unknown source and climbed up once more, lunging recklessly at Scar to reclaim the bag of coins.

“Give it back! Give it back!”

***

On the other side of the wooden house, Viola’s sister was awakened by the sound of their arguing.

Her name was Lily.

Following the family’s misfortunes, she had fallen seriously ill.

Her body grew increasingly weak, especially when she witnessed others bullying her sister and mother; an indescribable rage would surge from the depths of her heart.

Following that rage came physical numbness and intense pain.

Her mental state would become extremely unstable, as if something was about to tear through her body and crawl out.

She was very afraid of this.

To ensure her own safety, she usually avoided such scenes.

But the noise this time was too loud, and her internal worry forced her to get out of bed to check.

However, the sight presented before her was the man with the scar grabbing her sister’s hair and slamming her head violently against the wooden cabinet.

Blood stained the side of Viola’s face, causing a heaven-toppling rage to be born within Lily’s heart once again.

‘They should die. They all deserve to die…’

‘The ones who abandoned us, the ones who abuse us, the ones who humiliate us—they should all die!’

‘Guys like them should be cut into a thousand pieces!!’

She bit her lip, and the metallic taste of blood in her mouth brought her back to her senses, but the physical pain and the trembling of her limbs followed immediately.

Something was coming out…

She had a premonition that if she let it out, it would be like a demon from the abyss.

It would pollute her heart and make her crave slaughter and revenge.

No, no!

At a time like this, she couldn’t bring more trouble to her sister!

Her vision blurred.

She turned around, struggling to move her numb body back toward the inner room, but in the next second, a black silhouette appeared in front of her.

“Why go to such lengths to suppress it?”

Fhe figure asked.

Lily froze for a moment.

“…Who are you?”

“I am asking you—why suppress the impulse within your body?”

“Because… because I don’t want to cause trouble for my sister…”

“So, even if your sister dies right in front of you, you will still suppress that impulse?”

Lily was stunned.

She staggered back two steps and began to cover her head with her hands in terror.

The blood flowing from the corner of her mouth looked increasingly enchanting.

“No, no, no, that won’t happen. She’ll be fine…”

“Will she?”

The girl in the black dress took a step forward and pinched Lily’s chin, forcing her to look toward the living area of the wooden house.

There, her sister Viola had collapsed on the floor, powerless to resist.

Scar had pulled out a dagger from somewhere, seemingly prepared to give her a real lesson for her resistance.

“Look closely. They do not view you as human. Their eyes hold only greed and filth. Similarly, there is no logic in their mouths—only threats and humiliation.”

“If you do not deal with them, you will never have hope. And right now, beneath the fear in your heart, that thing which is boiling—that thing they call a ‘disease’…”

“Its true name is ‘Power’.”