A Jaded Life Chapter 1331

If there was one positive thing about my work at the hospital, it was that the repetitive monotony gave a lot of ti to think. The first window I had created with Earth and Crystal Magic had taken a fair amount of focus and effort, but that had been quite a while ago. By now, after I had created what had to be hundreds of windows, I would probably be able to conjure one in my sleep; it was that easy. No wonder that I could probably conjure thousands of additional windows and not get a single skill-point; I had simply mastered that particular combination of magic, so there was nothing more to discover. Just mindless drudgery, endless repetitions to make sure the people who had to visit the hospital could recover in a pleasant atmosphere.

My ti to think allowed to consider Jess’s request. A part of , likely the aspect of that had grown into the Mother, was intrigued and wanted to step up. Another part, the realistic part that was interested in my magical studies and advances, that wanted to explore and give in to the wanderlust that plagued my heart, was well-aware that accepting ant taking on a responsibility.

One that might never truly manifest, but the promise would be there. It would be my duty to care for the child when it was born and, likely, help the mother until then. If sothing happened to Jess, I would be responsible for taking care of the kid, and Jess might even hope I would take on the role of a father, or maybe just as an additional provider. I wasn’t sure; we hadn't yet discussed the details of the role she had asked to fill, which we would need to do if I decided to consider it further.

“Miss Morgana?” an unfamiliar voice intruded into the quiet of the hospital. Frowning a little, I finished the window I had been working on, sealing any gaps with a quickly drying grout to make sure no wind could flow through. The whole hospital was planned around magical air conditioning, so opening windows wasn’t necessary, and a draft could be lethal in this context.

“Yes?” I looked over, my frown deepening when the guy who had addressed was unknown to . “What do you want?” I asked, my voice a little harsher than usual.

“Apologies,” he imdiately gave a bow of submission, making curious where that particular affectation ca from. He didn’t look asian, but that didn’t an much. After all, I looked quite different compared to my appearance two years ago, so he might be a legacy who had chosen that particular appearance. Or there might be other reasons I wasn’t willing to dig into. So, I simply stared at him, waiting for him to explain. If he didn’t, I was perfectly willing to get back to work and ignore him.

“I have heard that you offered to help so people with their trauma, after the ss in the Blessed City. Is that correct?” he asked, his voice dipping into obsequiousness, making a shiver of discomfort run down my spine. I wasn’t sure why his voice managed to make so uncomfortable, but I could almost feel a knife being sharpened for my back.

“I have,” I nodded, ignoring the creeps his voice was giving . Or rather, not ignoring, but putting aside for now. I certainly wouldn’t forget about them.

“Would you be willing to help a few other people? So who weren’t in the Blessed City, but who have so trauma of their own?” he asked, and while I couldn’t be certain, I was convinced there was an uncomfortable level of eagerness in his voice.

“Depends,” I replied, noticing that the politely smiling mask on his face didn’t shift one bit, despite what could be considered a rejection, “How many people, what’s their trauma, what do they think I can do to help, and why are you here asking for them?” I paused for a mont before asking a rather pertinent question, one that I had ignored so far.

“What’s your na anyway?” If my question surprised the guy, he didn’t let it show on his face. His smile, his mask, didn’t waver at all. Sohow, that only increased my distrust.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to for the genuine story.

“Again, apologies. I’m called Joshua,” he introduced himself, though a small, paranoid part of noticed that he stated he was called that, not that it was his na. Possibly nothing, but given that my paranoia was already flaring, it was noticeable.

“And my other questions? There are a lot of people who seek my help, and there are only so many hours in the day, to say nothing of nurous other projects I wish to pursue. Don’t waste my ti,” I challenged, the paranoia making my temper flare beyond what was reasonable.

“Perfectly understandable,” he bowed again, “Seven people have approached , their trauma stretches back all the way to that horrible night two years ago. They are unaware of the extent of your abilities, and due to that, they can hardly verbalise their expectations; they simply wish to overco their trauma. And I’m here because I volunteered,” he explained, making nod with understanding, despite the frown that still lingered on my face.

The request was, on its face, reasonable. But I wasn’t about to disregard my instincts, not with the way they were shouting at that this guy was up to no good. I had no idea what he was planning, but the smile on his face was as fake as a three-dollar bill.

“There are a lot of people who seek my assistance. If those who have talked to you are interested, they can add their nas to the list and will eventually get a spot. But it’ll take so ti,” I told him, not rejecting him outright, but also not offering to help.

“If you have so much on your plate, there might be another option,” he volunteered, and, for the first ti, I could hear sothing beyond the obsequious politeness in his voice. It was faint, but I was confident that this was the real reason why he had approached .

“Would it be possible for sobody else to learn the techniques you employ to help these people? Would you be willing to explain, maybe even teach them?” His question shouldn’t have co as a surprise, but it did. I hadn’t expected this, but maybe I should have. The man sounded quite eager and interested, even if he did his best to keep his hunger concealed.

“I have never tried to,” I admitted, “And it’s not sothing I could teach quickly. The Mind is incredibly complex, with nurous layers and interconnections, making any work done within it extrely delicate.” I paused for a mont, deciding to test the man a little. A part of , the cautious, maybe paranoid, part, wanted to reject him outright, but another part was curious what a deeper investigation might unearth.

“Let test sothing,” I challenged, waiting for him to nod after a few monts of hesitation. Then, I focused every single trait I had to increase my perception of him, activating every skill and concentrating it all on him. The world around seed to fade away as my focus narrowed down until there were only the two of us in existence. For a mont, I considered letting my own being fade out of focus, to narrow my perception even further, but I decided against it. It would be too risky unless I restrained the guy.

But even without throwing everything at him, I could sense a lot. Maybe even a little too much for comfort. My mind was struggling a little, trying to compress the vast amount of information my senses, mundane and mystical, were collecting into a single comprehensive picture.

So parts, like those directly supplied by the system, were obvious. He was level forty-five, not trendously high, but also not low. That was easy, and I could see him recoil for a mont, the sensation of being Observe’d as uncomfortable as ever.

But other parts I was sensing were far harder to filter and turn into sothing comprehensive. Monts after the start of my observation, I let my focus widen again, my head already aching a little, thanks to information overload. I would have to go through all this with a fine-toothed comb, especially the parts that I had senses with my Extrasensory Perception for Minds and my Soul Sight. Those two might just be the most important aspects to understand, though so of the things I had seen on a purely visual level were interesting, too.

Mainly that brief mont of shock that had broken the mask he wore on his face, allowing to see sothing that was between hatred, agony and revulsion. Sadly, I had no real idea what those might an, and by the ti I had dialled down my senses, the guy was back to demonstrating impressive self-control.

“We will talk in the future,” I told him, the dismissal in my voice hopefully clear enough to rid myself of him. Luckily, he simply nodded in acceptance, bowed once more and left, without saying another word.

Now, I only had to figure out how to deal with that. Or if I wanted to deal with this at all.