I opened a clinic in the Abyss World

Towa Street.

West Bar.

"That damned tailor, hasn't he brought his daughter in for her bandages yet?" a burly, pig-headed orc asked in a low voice, half-reclining in a recliner.

Beside him, two human girls who looked only eight or nine years old were massaging his shoulders and legs, their eyes filled with fear.

"Yeah, boss, this dead tailor hasn't come to buy medicine for two days. Could he... be dead?" said a dog-headed orc who looked like a bartender.

"Dead?" Siba straightened up, a sinister smile spreading across his face. "It's not impossible. That old bastard was a hopeless drug addict. If he weren't dead, he would have come begging to me long ago. His daughter is quite pretty and lovely. Go to his house tonight and bring her back to me."

"If that old bastard hadn't died..."

"Then let him die, a worthless tailor whose only remaining value is his daughter." Siba reached out and stroked the little girl's face beside him, his smile growing increasingly lewd.

"Boss, I understand." The dog-headed beastman nodded knowingly.

……

As night falls, the abyss, shrouded in darkness, becomes exceptionally silent.

Occasionally, the roars of monsters could be heard from above the abyss, inspiring fear in all who heard them.

The screams and cries, sometimes near, sometimes far, added a dangerous touch to the night.

In the clinic lobby, Charlotte looked at the wooden cage she had made herself and nodded in satisfaction.

Ten wooden cages, each about the size of a shoebox, were stacked in two rows, with a small door facing the same direction. Small iron bars were used as railings to facilitate observation.

Each cage contained a small white mouse, which was now mostly huddled in a corner, trembling with fear.

"Huh? Which one is Jerry?" Charlotte stroked her chin, lost in thought.

"They all look the same, how can you tell them apart?" Vivian leaned closer and looked intently at the white mice in the cage.

At this moment, Anna jumped onto the cage, patted the second cage, and looked at Charlotte and Vivian with the same expression as if they were looking at a foolish human.

"This one?" Charlotte leaned closer to take a look. Upon closer inspection, this little mouse was indeed a bit fatter than the other mice. It seemed that the food at the clinic these past few days had been quite good, and it had gained weight.

Charlotte and Vivian simultaneously gave Anna a thumbs up.

Charlotte moved Jerry to the first seat in the first row, and with a wave of her hand, said, "From now on, they'll be called Jerry Number 1, Jerry Number 2, Jerry..."

"Boss, you've been too casual with this name!" Vivian complained.

"A name is just a code; they won't care." Charlotte moved the cage to an empty room on the second floor, which he temporarily used as a laboratory.

"It's getting late, you should wash up and get some rest too," Charlotte said to Vivian, then slammed the bedroom door shut.

Change your loose, casual long shirt into a black bodysuit, and tighten the sleeves and trouser legs with straps to prevent things from going wrong at a crucial moment.

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Charlotte was caught in a dilemma as she picked up a piece of black cloth and the scissors.

Should I cut it into a triangular scarf to cover my mouth, or cut it into a long strip and cut out two eye holes to cover my face?

Traditional skills cannot be lost, so Charlotte ultimately folded a triangular scarf in half and covered the lower half of her face.

Then Charlotte donned the judge's black robe, pulled up the hood, and carried the judge's sword, hiding it beneath the wide robe.

It's a pity there's no mirror in the room, otherwise Charlotte would definitely have taken the time to admire her own appearance.

Fully armed, Charlotte opened the window a crack and carefully observed the movements outside.

Tonight is quiet; no orcs have come to cause trouble. The long street is shrouded in an inescapable darkness, with only a few oil lamps hanging in front of the shops, which look like the eyes of monsters in the mist.

After waiting for a while, Charlotte slowly opened the window, braced herself on the windowsill, and landed on the ground like a nimble cat, closing the window as she did so.

The moment he landed, he lightly touched the ground with his feet and turned into the alley next to the clinic.

A street in the abyss is not just two rows of houses on either side of a long street.

Every street has many alleys. Most residents live in these nameless alleys, while a small number of shops choose to open in the alleys because they cannot afford the high rents on the main street.

Charlotte ran wildly along the alley, consciously practicing the flashes of inspiration she had learned in the mysterious space. This open space was more suitable for practicing footwork.

With a tap of his right foot, he suddenly shot forward, his blurry figure leaping five meters in a single stride, instantly arriving at the locust tree at the alley entrance.

Charlotte gripped the hilt of her sword, resisting the urge to draw it and strike.

Now he is completely certain that all the training he underwent in the mysterious space has been etched into his body, and there is no need to practice it again.

Those thousands of fierce battles, with hundreds and thousands of heads chopped off, were exchanged for invaluable combat experience.

His martial arts skills are devoid of any fancy tricks; they are true killing techniques.

Taking a deep breath, Charlotte disappeared back into the darkness and headed towards Tuowa Street.

Compared to Bacca Street, Towa Street is much more lively.

Bonfires were lit everywhere in the streets, and potion vendors sold potions on the street and in the alleys, day and night.

Drug addicts lay everywhere, on both sides of the street and in the dark corners of the alley.

Some have already died quietly, while others, suffering from drug addiction but unable to afford the potion, are banging their heads against the wall in agony.

No one pitied them, because they were already too busy taking care of themselves.

Even before he died, people had already started searching his belongings, stripping him of even his tattered clothes.

Charlotte hid in the shadow of a stone pillar, watching the orcs approaching from a distance, carrying oil lamps.

He had just been to this alley today and had already figured out the escape route. Once he succeeded, he could guarantee that he would leave immediately.

At the far end of the alley, two Black Magic Guards stood guard, responsible for protecting the potion from being stolen by a crazed and irrational individual.

Towa Street has been run by the Judson family for many years. Due to the Black Guard's strength and cruelty, theft of potions is extremely rare. Few addicts are confident of escaping from the Black Guard, and once caught, their lives are worse than death.

So the orc responsible for selling potions walked leisurely down the alley, a box with a dozen or so bottles of potions hanging in front of him, a beast oil lamp in one hand, humming a little tune.

Occasionally, a resident would open their door and pay for the potion. If they were slow to pay, they would be verbally abused. The resident who was verbally abused would not dare to talk back, and would take the potion and go back with their head down.

The money pouch hanging from his waist was heavy, and the orc became even more smug, his humming tune sounding lighter.

Just then, a dark figure staggered towards him, saying in a low, trembling voice, "Buy...buy medicine..."

"Old man, hurry up, or I won't sell it to you." The orc stood still, his face full of mockery.

The dark figure stumbled towards him. Judging from his gait and hunched figure, he was probably an old man. His hand was inside his black robe, as if he was taking out money.

The orc raised the lamp in his hand and caught a glimpse of the man's face, which was hidden in a hood and covered by a black cloth. He was immediately stunned.

The person didn't take out any money; instead, they handed over a long black sword.

It was as dark as the night.