It turned out that the healer Merrywick had contacted had arrived much earlier. But the spectacle going on at the gateway of the building had made the man reluctant to enter. 

"To survive in sector-4, you have to learn your place. And my position is certainly not one that can interfere in the business of the Stadia," the healer told him meekly while casting basic healing spells on his shoulder and arm. 

"What's your specialty in the field of healing magic, Mr. Grayback?" Merrywick asked, curious.

"I cannot claim to be a specialist, yet. Currently, I am in the middle of a diploma, learning the healing methods for injuries caused by Comtech weapons. Injuries from Magitech weapons have a wider scope of education and income, but the danger that comes with that degree is far more terrible."

"Ah, makes sense why Mr. Corvo recommended you when I told him about my injuries. Did you choose sector-4 to perfect your craft because of the frequency of violent incidents here?"

The young healer mage didn't provide a verbal answer, opting for a stiff nod. 

"It's good to have someone familiar nearby in times of need. And I will definitely be in need of your healing magic regularly, Mr. Grayback," Merrywick said, reaching over with his uninjured hand for a firm handshake. 

"Let's hope for a good partnership and prosperous future."

If Grayback was perplexed by his words, he didn't show it on his face. After shaking his hand expressionlessly, he resumed the administration of healing spells. 

"You're quite fortunate, leaving a gunfight with these shallow injuries. However, my skills in healing are limited. The best I can do for you is to make sure your body is back to its normal state by tonight. If you want faster treatment, you should seek better healers...and more expensive treatment plans," Grayback said after the last spell.

Merrywick's eyes had been glued to the wounds throughout the process. By now, his shoulder and arm barely had any trace of the wounds left. Without flexing the muscles in those areas, he couldn't really feel the wounds. The only dissatisfaction he had was the fact that Grayback had used complex incantations in his spellcasting, one of the signatures of a rank-2 mage.

He hadn't gotten the chance to learn unusual healing spells like he had hoped. Casting a rank-1 spell with simplified incantation was still beyond his capability. Rank-2 was a faraway position, spells of that rank even more so.

"What type of spell did you use on your body, again? A physique-enhancer, right?" Grayback asked while calculating something on his portable data terminal. Upon receiving Merrywick's confirmation, he sent a message to his comcell.

"Check the prescription in our chatbox. You're overburdening your body by using that spell repeatedly. You have to strictly follow the diet plan on the prescription and take some medication from time to time. I'll keep in touch so that I can adjust the prescription when needed."

Merrywick glanced over the prescription and groaned. He was supposed to eat three times that of a normal adult male mage, alongside artificially produced nutrition dosages once a day. 

"Can't I learn any spells to substitute these?" He was feeling defeated for the first time since his 'rebirth'. He wasn't opposed to following the diet, but he knew he couldn't rely on it for long, not when his future plans included abusing that physique-enhancing spell many more times. 

"If you could do that, so could I," was the reply he received from the dull young man. 

"Well, at least I can try to learn. Do you have any such spells in your personal collection? I'll pay the real price."

Merrywick's promise to pay was undoubtedly tempting. Normally, mages who purchased spells from a licensed seller weren't permitted to resell the spell to a third party. The higher the ranking of a spell, the higher the punishment for reselling it was. But since Rank-1 spells required verbal, simplified incantations, most of these spells had ended up being circulated in public forums, including the networks open to commoners. The government-funded education programs for mages and potential mages also taught the basics of many Rank-1 spells. Even if the commoners didn't know the inner workings of the spell, they could shout the verbal incantations, which of course, had no effect except to generate laughs among friends and envy towards mages.

Hence, the laws that prescribed punishments for leaking or reselling rank-1 spells had become mostly obsolete. Unless you were doing it right under the eyes of a law enforcer, no one would care that you were breaking the law. Moreover, it was a good source of income for low-ranked mages who had to buy spells from official channels frequently.

"I'm afraid I cannot share the few I have in my collection, as that would invite legal troubles. Goodbye, Mr. Merrywick," Grayback replied, adding to his mounting disappointment. Just as he was about to get up and leave, Merrywick decided to take advantage of his timid nature to get what he wanted.

"Hey, can I use your data terminal to pay for this session? I left mine at home, and my comcell doesn't support banking softwares."

Not suspecting anything, Grayback handed the portable terminal over and Merrywick quickly logged into his bank account to complete the transaction. 

"Here you go, log back into your account," he said while returning the terminal. 

Grayback was merely going through the motions...only to freeze when his eyes fell on the latest transaction.

"My charge was 30 Sables, not 230," he said quickly. He was treating it as a mistake. 

"The extra 200 Sables are for helping me find safe sites you use to look for spells. Most websites and private channels aren't that reliable if you don't have good connections with powerful mages. No one can verify the authenticity of leaked spells by themselves. But everyone knows that low-ranked mages have their own piracy networks."

"I-"

"200 Sables for a few links and referrals is a lot, my friend. But considering our relationship, I can put a 100 more on the table. The advance belongs to you already. Are you going to force me to take it back?" 

    Faced with Merrywick's blatant disregard for ethics and propriety, Grayback couldn't come to a quick decision, a situation that Merrywick had expected to see. He had been on guard against Merrywick since he had watched the Stadia's men storm out of the building furiously. 

This young man's character was too soft; too afraid to break the law, too afraid to speak out when he saw the law being broken. How a character like this would venture out to sector-4 was a mystery. Merrywick suspected that someone, probably a guardian or a personal tutor to Grayback, had forced him to come to sector-4 to train his character. A Rank-2 healer mage in his early twenties couldn't be a random nobody.  This was also the reason why he was ready to pay a high price, an unfair amount of money really. 300 Sables were equal to 30,000 Kora, enough to let a family get by in sector-2 for a month. But he needed access to safe piracy networks, and he needed it fast, as fast as possible. Money was secondary, his safety was paramount.

"...Alright, but this is the first and last time. I'll report you to the enforcers if you try to...to blackmail me again," Grayback said meekly. 

"Oh sure, sure. This is definitely a one-time thing. I wouldn't force a good friend like you to do anything you don't want to. This was just the outcome of an emergency," Merrywick said.

Grayback left the building with that consolation, appearing dissatisfied with himself. He wasn't an idiot, but he had failed to stop himself from acting like one. 

His resentment at Merrywick outweighed the fulfillment brought by Merrywick's money. But his bitterness at himself outweighed that resentment. The scorching heat from the two suns above was irritating enough for him to treat it as a form of punishment. Instead of taking a vehicle, he stood at the side of the narrow street and stared at the building he had just left. Within fifteen minutes, sweat soaked his shirt, and every inch of his exposed skin felt sensitive to touch. Grayback imagined again and again how he could have refused Merrywick's advances, how he could have walked out without feeling a hint of guilt or embarrassment. That kid was younger than him, right? How had he been-

Something caught his eye. The second floor of the building had a plastic roof, propped up by internal pillars and detached from the walls, leaving a meter-wide gap in all four directions. A familiar figure was visible through that gap.

Merrywick climbed past the short wall of the second floor and landed on the extended perimeter of the roof. Then he pulled out a large wooden plank from the other side and placed it horizontally on the rooftop like a nameplate. Fresh red paint had been sprayed on the plank to write something. 

"Tower of God...?" Grayback read aloud, unsure of its meaning.