You said you were going to make games, how did you become the richest man without doing anything?

"..."

"..."

"..."

The long silence, like the thick darkness of night, pressed down heavily on the arena.

The wind blew the tattered flags, stirring up dust that swirled on the blood-stained stone slabs.

The three female leaders stood silently, sweat dripping from their temples, their clothes torn and stained with blood, but their eyes met at that moment.

Then--

"Ha...hahahahaha!"

Fina was the first to burst into laughter, laughing so hard that tears almost streamed down her face.

"You're right! Hahaha! This kind of thing will never end, how could we do something so stupid?"

Dova then burst into laughter, her voice so loud it seemed to shatter the sky.

"...Dova suddenly realized how stupid this was! Even doing something so foolish would only exhaust her!"

Leia clutched her stomach, laughing so hard she couldn't stand up straight, her crimson eyes brimming with glee.

"Hahaha! After that fierce fight, I seem to have completely calmed down now!"

They swung their fists, kicked their legs, and even unleashed primal roars from their dantian.

All the anger, resentment, jealousy, and bitterness that had been building up inside were spilled onto the dilapidated arena along with sweat and blood.

Negative emotions seemed to evaporate bit by bit with the afterglow of the setting sun.

The air, which had been filled with murderous intent, now carried a strange, reassuring tranquility.

The three female leaders sighed deeply and looked up at the sky, which was dyed blood-red by the sunset.

"...There's nothing we can do. Since the doctor has said so, we have no choice but to head home today."

Fina shrugged, a look of relief on her face.

"The werewolf clan has no objections."

Dowa grinned, her gray tail swishing gently.

Forgiveness is also a form of power.

Leia smiled slightly, her voice low and gentle, "This is a proverb passed down from ancient times by our orc race."

The three of them came together, unsure how to express their complex emotions, and simply raised their fists in unison.

Three fists slowly overlapped in the air.

This is the oath of the soldiers, and the promise of the friends.

The three races, having fought with all their might, were now praising each other's strength.

"You're incredibly fast, like a ghost."

Fina smiled and looked at Duowa.

"Your attack power is quite ruthless."

Duowa grinned in response.

"You two are both good, but we orcs are still the strongest in terms of stamina."

Leia laughed and patted her chest.

The three women exchanged a smile.

"Therefore, from now on, the three of us will only have one reason to fight each other."

Fina narrowed her eyes, a provocative smile playing on her lips.

"It doesn't matter, anyway, Dova has a slight advantage in this battle so far."

Dova proudly wagged her tail and shouted back, "This is the only battle I will win!"

Rhea crossed her arms, her crimson eyes burning with renewed fighting spirit.

"Don't underestimate orcs, I'll show you what I'm made of next time."

In the audience, Fufu angrily punched Sherlock on the back.

"What are those guys even talking about?"

Her little cheeks puffed up like steamed buns from anger.

G-chan was laughing hysterically in the live stream:
The three queens of the slums have officially declared war on Sherlock!

This plot development...it's way too much like a romantic comedy!

[Sherlock: I'm really just a regular healer!]

Fufu pouted and muttered softly:

"Mmm... Sherlock, you really are popular with women."

"but--"

She looked up at Sherlock, a hint of doubt in her eyes. "Why would you do something like this?"

Sherlock smiled slightly and ruffled her hair.

"Because, a therapist I knew in the slums once said something."

He squinted, as if recalling a figure from afar.

"A third-rate healer, all he can do is heal wounds."

"Second-rate healers specialize in healing the heart."

"Only top-notch therapists can save lives."

Fufu opened her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open.

"That person... is amazing."

"Yes."

Sherlock smiled, a hint of nostalgia in his voice, "Although he was an oddball, he was indeed very capable."

He withdrew his gaze and looked at the arena before him, which was gradually returning to calm.

"So, even though I'm just a third-rate healer, I still hope... to make the slums a little better."

Fufu's cheeks flushed slightly, and her little hands gripped Sherlock's sleeve tightly.

"Sherlock...you're so handsome...!"

G-chan spammed the chat like crazy in the live stream:
[Waaaaah, Sherlock is so gentle!]

This is the real protagonist!

[Certified Little Sun in the Slums]

Sherlock smiled, then suddenly changed the subject.

"However, this is just an excuse."

"Eh?"

Fufu blinked.

"After all, the three of them are the VIPs of this shabby treatment center."

Sherlock shrugged, a helpless smile on his face like that of a businessman. "I can't lose them over something so trivial."

Upon hearing this, Fufu's face turned red with anger.

"...You're lying."

Sherlock didn't answer, he just smiled and patted her head.

Because they all knew it perfectly well.

If relations between the three races improve, the number of people injured in fights will naturally decrease, and the income of treatment centers will also decrease sharply.

Sherlock couldn't possibly be unaware of this principle.

But he did it anyway.

Fufu bit her lip, her eyes slightly moist.

She gripped Sherlock's sleeve tightly, as if afraid that if she let go, she would lose something important.

"Sherlock, Fou has something to tell you."

"Huh? What's the matter?"

Sherlock looked down at her, his eyes tender.

Fufu's face turned bright red, and her soft voice was almost blown away by the wind.

"Actually... Fufu likes you the most."

Sherlock was taken aback, then laughed.

"Yes, I like Fou too."

"Well……!"

Fufu stomped her feet in anger and punched his chest with her little fists.

"The 'like' that Fufu talks about isn't that kind of 'like'!"

"Huh? What kind of liking is that?"

Sherlock tilted his head, feigning confusion. "...No, I won't tell you!"

Fufu, her face as red as a ripe apple, turned her head away, huffing and puffing as she faced away from him.

Sherlock chuckled softly, turned around, and looked up at the sky, which was now completely dyed red.

In this chaotic, filthy, and hate-filled slum—

Perhaps the future will indeed get a little... better.

……

The afterglow of the setting sun fell on the dilapidated arena, and the warm golden light elongated the two figures.

Sherlock dusted off his hands and turned to the little elf girl beside him, saying:
"Fufu, let's wrap this up, collect the money, and head home."

Fufu blinked her big blue eyes, seemingly still somewhat immersed in the previous chaos and reconciliation.

Hearing Sherlock's words, she puffed out her cheeks slightly and said reproachfully:

"Are you still going to take the money?"

"of course yes."

Sherlock answered matter-of-factly, a lazy smile on his face, "It's exhausting to treat so many people all the time. I won't be polite about taking the money I'm owed."

As he spoke, he opened his palm, his knuckles still faintly glowing—the faint traces of magic left after casting healing spells repeatedly.

Fufu looked down at the hand and suddenly chuckled softly.

"Ha ha……"

She reached out her little hand and grabbed Sherlock's sleeve.

They were bathed in the setting sun, their shadows overlapping on the broken stone slabs, warm and serene.

"Turns out, no one died this time."

Fufu tilted her little face up and said with a smile, "I wonder if Miss Ophelia will feel... a little disappointed?"

Sherlock thought for a moment, then shrugged.

"Maybe. Serves him right."

"...However,"

Fufu covered her mouth and chuckled, her blue eyes curving into crescents. "I think she should be very happy too. Hehe."

In the sunset, the little girl's smile was pure and bright, as if adding a new touch of color to this once bloody arena.

that's it--

An unlicensed therapist, in his own unique way, ended years of conflict and antagonism in the slums.

And all of this has quietly sown the seeds of enormous changes in the future along the trajectory of fate.

**
Meanwhile, on a distant green plain, a carriage was speeding by.

Outside the carriage, the vast grassland stretched as far as the eye could see, the wind blowing through the verdant waves of grass, like countless green rivers undulating and rolling.

Four magnificent horses, with golden coats and strong, powerful muscles, galloped across the land, pulling a beautifully carved carriage.

Inside the carriage, thick velvet carpets were laid out, and the gold and silver trim shimmered brilliantly in the sunlight.

Louis sat lazily in the soft chair, his legs casually propped up on the small table opposite him, holding a wine glass in one hand and swaying it leisurely.

"This is so enjoyable."

He sipped his wine and sighed.

Pierre, the assistant mage sitting to the side, pushed up his monocle on the bridge of his nose and gazed at the vast green mountains and clear waters outside the window.

"However, this way there's absolutely no sense of tension like going on a mission."

"This is the treatment we deserve."

Louis chuckled softly, his golden curls shimmering gently in the sunlight.

after all--

This was a commission personally assigned by Minister Cohen, one of the seven noble families.

Before setting off, they received ample funds to replenish their equipment and were even escorted by luxurious carriages.

The target this time is the fire fox monster in the caves of the northern snowfields.

Although the journey was long, taking more than ten days from the capital, they had already booked luxury hotels at various post stations, ready to enjoy a luxurious trip along the way.

"I feel like I've become an aristocrat."

Pierre remarked with emotion.

The archer Mary, with her legs crossed, chuckled as she replied:

"In fact, we will indeed become aristocrats after we retire."

Upon hearing this, Louis raised his glass, smiled, and took a small sip of wine.

"As long as I maintain my current performance, becoming an Obsidian-level adventurer is only a matter of time."

Gold-level adventurers are extremely rare throughout the entire kingdom.

Obsidian-level adventurers, on the other hand, are national heroes, whose status is comparable to that of true nobles.

The director of the Royal Healing Center, as well as several central ministers, were all born Obsidian-level adventurers.

As long as one cultivates a good relationship with powerful figures like Minister Cohen, becoming a true aristocrat is almost a certainty.

The carriage sped across the plain, the crisp, rhythmic sound of hooves echoing in the wind.

G-chan excitedly provided commentary in the live stream:

Holy crap, is this the world of the upper-level adventurers?!

[Horse-drawn carriages, wine, luxury hotels—the treatment is even better than that of a prince!]

The Golden Phoenix Team truly lives up to their name!

Mary leaned against the car wall with a smile, her long golden hair falling to her shoulders, her eyes full of confidence.

"Speaking of which, we've really made something of ourselves."

"Yes."

Louis gently swirled the wine in his glass, the deep red ripples of the wine seemingly reflecting the path of blood and fire they had traversed.

“In the past, we had to walk step by step to get to the maze.”

Pierre pushed up his glasses and recalled the hardships of those years.

"Yeah, but thankfully there was someone to carry the luggage, so the trip wasn't actually that tiring."

The three exchanged a smile, and their loud laughter echoed through the luxurious carriage.

The wind continued to blow across the vast plains.

On one side is the slum that has just ended its chaos, and on the other side are the golden adventurers who are about to step onto an even more glorious stage.

The gears of fate are turning silently.

The carriage galloped smoothly across the plain, the sound of hooves echoing on the ground, surrounded by a sea of ​​grass bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.

The carriage was luxurious and comfortable.

The soft, plush velvet cushions envelop the body, and the gold and silver details reflect a warm glow in the dim light.

Louis leaned against the window, holding a glass of clear, deep red wine, looking completely content.

He raised the glass and gently swirled it, the wine rippling in circles.

"On another note,"

Mary leaned lazily against the opposite side, her slender fingers playing with a strand of blonde hair, and said with a smile, "Louis, you're really smart. When I first heard that you were going to let that kid from the slums join the team, I thought I misheard."

She raised an eyebrow, her tone clearly mocking.

"As a result, that brat only had to eat leftovers, didn't need to stay in a hotel room, and was even responsible for cooking and carrying luggage. When danger arose, he could be sent to his death as bait... It's like we got a free slave."

Pierre pushed up his monocle on his nose, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"The cost is so low it's almost touching."

Olivet chuckled softly, took out a sapphire-encrusted wand from his pocket, and casually began to polish it.

Louis listened, a haughty smile playing on his lips.

"Ha, Sherlock is indeed a good scapegoat."

He gently swirled the wine in his glass, the red wine rotating within, much like a beautiful dream about to shatter.

"He must have had a beautiful dream too."

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes carrying a hint of condescending condescension.

I wonder how that kid is doing now.

Although he gave Sherlock a small sum of hush money to keep him quiet about his time with the "Golden Phoenix" team, to be honest, that money could have been saved.

After all, he was just a poor man.

In this world, the lives of the poor are not even worth a copper coin.

“He can’t find a decent job, and nobody will pay attention to him.”

Louis muttered to himself, a mocking smile playing on his lips, "He probably thinks he was happiest when we took him in. Now, he's probably dead on the roadside, full of gratitude." (End of Chapter)