The World Mistakes Me for Terminally Ill - Chapter 57

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The World Thinks I’m Terminally Ill Episode 057

 

Since they had agreed to wait there from the beginning, Elisia wasn’t particularly surprised.

 

“Calling a person a fox. And I didn’t tame him, I just hired him.”

 

“He doesn’t seem to think so.”

 

The gaze that had been fixed on Elisia the entire time turned to Erban for the first time.

 

Erban, despite being an assassin himself, rolled his eyes at an opponent whose presence he couldn’t even sense.

 

‘This place is interesting, I tell you.’

 

He said with a grinning smile.

 

“Master, I’m hurt.”

 

“I said employer.”

 

“Master.”

 

“Sigh… Why is there no one here who uses proper titles?”

 

“Then how about sister?”

 

“Madam, shall I kill him?”

 

“That includes you too. I told you not to say things like that.”

 

“Hey hey, big brother, are you jealous? Don’t be like that. I have orders I received. I need to complete them.”

 

It was complete chaos.

 

Elisia let out a sigh.

 

“Both of you, move aside.”

 

When she pushed past the two men and walked away, Shubel was the first to let go of Erban and follow her.

 

Erban also began to chase after them.

 

“Madam, if you walk too fast, you might get hurt—”

 

“Master, let’s go together.”

 

“Stop following me and go do your own work!”

 

Elisia couldn’t shake the thought that she now had two large dogs.

 

Western region, Beatrice Duchy.

 

The central city of that place.

 

Called the cradle of artists, it was a place where street painters and sculptors could be seen frequently, and exhibitions and operas were held daily in a splendid festival atmosphere.

 

However, the city that used to bustle with tourists wanting to see the sights and those with artistic dreams had recently taken on a gloomy, depressed atmosphere.

 

The same was true for a tavern that served as a discussion venue for penniless artists, thanks to its cheap beer that tasted terrible but was affordable.

 

“Marcello Bank won’t really go bankrupt, will it?”

 

“No, it can’t! All my assets are there!”

 

“When I asked for my money back, they said they don’t have enough cash to withdraw right now and told me to wait.”

 

“Bah. I’ll never trust Marcello again.”

 

The aftermath of the House of Angels didn’t end with just the bankruptcy of those who had speculated.

 

As trust in banks that had made bad loans declined, anxious people began withdrawing their deposited money.

 

As a result, even those unrelated to the House of Angels suffered damage.

 

The western region was Marcello’s stronghold, and naturally, people here mainly used Marcello.

 

People whose assets were tied up had no choice but to face being thrown out on the streets for not being able to pay rent immediately.

 

“Actually, starving for a few months isn’t a big deal.”

 

But most of these were penniless artists accustomed to going hungry. What was really important to them wasn’t food and shelter.

 

“Is it true that the Alley Art Studio is closing down?”

 

“They put money into that angel or devil thing and lost it all.”

 

“I heard the sponsored exhibition is being canceled too.”

 

“Only the guys who stayed up all night preparing for months ended up like dogs chasing chickens.”

 

“Theater plays are being canceled one after another too.”

 

“No wonder. So that’s why the actors are sitting here drinking at this hour?”

 

Opportunity.

 

The disappearance of chances to showcase their work, the skills they had honed over time.

 

That was the most devastating thing for artists.

 

“…Don’t they hold exhibitions in other regions?”

 

“They keep holding them. It’s just that opportunities don’t come to ignorant commoners like us.”

 

It was because this was the western region, called the cradle of artists, that you could easily find art studios and workshops available to commoners nearby, but other regions weren’t like that.

 

Art was originally the exclusive property of the wealthy.

 

Unless you were very lucky and caught the eye of a wealthy patron to receive sponsorship, walking the path of art in places without proper facilities was not easy.

 

Just as they were letting out deep sighs at the harsh reality.

 

“Did you hear? A noble from the Northern Region is recruiting artists. It seems they’re sponsoring with quite a fortune.”

 

A whispering voice could be heard from a corner table they didn’t even know existed.

 

Strangely, the words ‘Northern Region’ and ‘sponsorship’ stuck in their ears.

 

“They say if you just catch their fancy, they’ll hand over ten million gold without hesitation. Oh wait, sister told me to keep this secret.”

 

Two companions wearing pulled-down robes.

 

The left robe, who had been chattering in an excited voice, belatedly realized his voice had been too loud and lowered it.

 

Of course, the sharp-eared artists already had a gleam in their eyes.

 

“Did you hear?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

The robed companions, worried that their exclusive information might spread, hurriedly left the tavern.

 

Those who wanted to hear more information clicked their tongues in disappointment.

 

“Could that be real?”

 

“When have there been just one or two floating rumors? And the Northern Region? What noble there has money to spend?”

 

“The Northern Region has Runein, doesn’t it? The great Runein that ended the Thousand-Year War.”

 

“That’s old news. Runein has been past its prime for a long time now.”

 

“You’re the one who doesn’t know anything. How popular are hot spring trips these days? The guy next door bragged so much about taking his elderly mother there.”

 

“Wasn’t that only for high-ranking people? I heard they weren’t accepting applications.”

 

“That’s what Runein does. I heard other hot springs have opened their doors too. A new train station will be built soon and the routes will be expanded too.”

 

They talked about hot spring trips, which were making a name for themselves as filial piety trips, and lamented when they would succeed enough to visit such places.

 

“They say the snowy landscape is so beautiful. If you see it once, it seems like it would unblock your creative inspiration.”

 

“That’s right. Should we just close our eyes and go once?”

 

Only the person who had said Runein was past its prime didn’t like this conversation topic and grumbled unnecessarily.

 

“Still, it’s a bit much to go all the way to the Northern Region just based on rumors. Unless it was said by someone definitely trustworthy.”

 

“Wait, everyone look at this.”

 

A man unfolded a new newspaper marked as breaking news and spoke urgently.

 

“It’s here, it’s here!”

 

“What is?”

 

“Someone in Runein with money to spend, there is one!”

 

On the front page of the newspaper the man unfolded was a major article about Elisia.

 

[Elisia Runein feels moral responsibility for the House of Angels incident.]

 

[When asked why she had never sponsored the House of Angels until now, she opened her mouth after a long silence.

 

–

 

Q. Why didn’t you provide sponsorship?

 

A. I am Elisia Runein and at the same time Elisia Seton. Runein and Seton have been steadily conducting various sponsorships over the past century.

 

When there’s already an officially designated foundation, is there a reason for me to sponsor through other organizations?

 

Q. You said you feel moral responsibility. We’re curious about the meaning of this statement.

 

A. I’m afraid that this incident might break the hearts of those who sponsored with pure intentions or were planning to sponsor. Hearts are not guilty.

 

Therefore, though it’s modest, I’m thinking of donating 10 billion gold through the Seton Foundation for sick children.

 

You can apply for sponsorship screening through nearby Seton Trading Guild, and if you’re in an area adjacent to Runein Duchy, please visit the Capital City Medical Center.

 

It’s the place where screening is conducted first, and competent priests and medical staff are stationed there.

 

Q. Will you really not return to the capital and continue staying in the duchy?

 

A. Yes, for the time being. I’ve fallen in love with this place. Especially the snowy landscape seen from the hot springs is so beautiful that once you see it, it’s hard to look away.

 

If there’s one regret… it’s that black and white photos can’t capture all this overwhelming feeling? Someday I’d like to capture this scene in brilliant colors.

 

–

 

Meanwhile, rumors spread in the daily papers that she was terminally ill. When a reporter asked about this, Elisia left without answering.]

 

The rumors that started from the tavern spread throughout the entire city in an instant.

 

Even reaching the ears of a young boy who endured all kinds of mistreatment while cleaning the art studio, yet never gave up his dream of becoming a painter.

 

‘The Northern Region…’

 

The young boy carefully held the newspaper that the art studio owner had thrown away. His eyes, filled with dreams, sparkled brightly.

 

‘Could I do it too?’

 

And the one who started all of this.

 

“Hup, mission complete.”

 

The robed man who had spoken of the Northern Region in the tavern, Erban, had instead eliminated the industry colleagues who approached to secretly dispose of him, and hummed an unknown song with his blood-splattered pale face.

 

Around him, shadows stood motionlessly like fox-shaped forms.

 

As a type of shadow magic, Erban could create weapons or these kinds of puppets from shadows.

 

The companions who had been with him in the tavern were also shadow puppets.

 

“Shall we head back then?”

 

When he gestured, the shadow foxes were sucked into one hand and transformed into a fox mask.

 

Erban put it on his face and then vanished mysteriously under the moonlight.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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