The Envoy of Abundance from Onphalus

　As for the truly heinous villains? They might be in the warm Goethe Hotel in the upper administrative district right now, enjoying exquisite pastries and looking down at this forgotten suffering below.

　"Doctor! Please stay! Let us... let us do something for you!"

　Old Joey, holding his grandson who had recovered from his fever and was fast asleep, choked with emotion. His suggestion instantly ignited the crowd.

　"Yes! Let's have a recovery banquet!"

　"Although...although we don't have anything good here..."

　Some people looked at the bare shack and lowered their voices.

　Russell smiled slightly, his fingertips shimmering with emerald light. To everyone's astonishment, plump, unfamiliar fruits exuding a sweet aroma, roasted golden-brown synthetic poultry glistening with oil, and even several buckets of clear, refreshing water appeared out of thin air in the center of the open space.

　After a brief silence, a louder cheer erupted. Worn tarpaulins were spread out and discarded metal sheets were used as a dining table, and an unprecedented slum feast began on the ruins of despair.

　"Doctor, try this! Old Jack, I've been hiding this for half a year... well, it's not as good as what you conjure up..."

　A burly man handed over a small piece of smoked meat jerky that was hard enough to be used as a weapon, with an embarrassed yet sincere smile on his face.

　Russell accepted it without hesitation and chewed it carefully: "A very special flavor, carrying the tenacity of survival."

　People gathered around Russell, eager to share their stories. Food and health briefly dispelled the gloom, but the conversation inevitably veered towards the heavy realities of life.

　"It's all because of that damned blockade!"

　A middle-aged miner, whose leg injury had just healed, took a swig of water and said bitterly, "With one order from Lord Cocolia, the connection between the upper and lower levels was completely severed! All that's left is that broken pipe to haul down a few meager supplies, and we have to exchange them for the marrow we dig out with our lives!"

　"The price for ore from above keeps dropping, and they're so picky, it's like they're giving money away to beggars! If they're so capable, they should come down and mine the ore themselves."

　"If it weren't for Oleg and his brothers from the subterranean fire keeping things going,"

　Another voice chimed in, "This Rocky Town was torn to shreds by bastards like Scott and those gangs that would kill for a bite to eat!"

　"Scott?"

　Russell noticed this recurring name.

　"Pah! That old beast!"

　A man whose arms had been twisted and deformed but had now fully recovered slammed his fist on the ground. It was the same consumables from the boxing gym.

　"Doctor, please look!"

　He excitedly showed off his powerful arms, saying, "Just to make money for him by fighting in underground boxing matches! This arm and this leg of mine were broken by his ace fighters!"

　"When they saw I couldn't fight anymore, they threw me out like trash, without a single penny of compensation! My wounds were festering and infested with maggots! If it weren't for you..."

　His voice trembled with anger and lingering fear.

　"More than that!"

　A woman standing nearby chimed in; she was a former member of the mutual aid group. "His shady boxing gym routinely throws fights and manipulates wins and losses! So many young men have been swindled out of their fortunes by him, and in the end, they have no choice but to sign contracts to fight for him until they're crippled!"

　Why is no one resisting?

　Russell asked.

　"Resist?"

　An old miner with white hair and beard sneered and spat on the ground. "Before the blockade, he had people up there! Silvermane Iron Guards? Hmph! They just turned a blind eye!"

　"After the blockade, relying on the national reserves and the thugs he recruited, his power actually grew even greater! If it weren't for the Earth Fire suppressing him and restricting him to doing business only in the boxing gym, he would have already extended his reach to the entire lower district!"

　"Then, hey..."

　The old man didn't finish speaking, but everyone understood that it would be a purgatory even more terrifying than the erosion of the rift.

　Russell listened quietly, his food unknowingly finished. Scott's business acumen became clear in his mind: a boxer is just a expendable asset; injuries? It's better to discard him and replace him with a new one than to spend resources treating him.

　Recovery period delays making money? Worthless after peak period? Squeezing out the last bit of value and then throwing it away like slag is the most cost-effective.

　If you don't go boxing, someone else will.

　A naked, cannibalistic chain. A cold, disgust flashed deep within Russell's jade-like eyes. He'd seen countless such repulsive people, yet he'd never become numb to them.

　He lightly patted non-existent dust off his clothes and stood up.

　"doctor?"

　Everyone stared at him in astonishment.

　"You have recovered,"

　Russell's voice clearly reached everyone's ears: "This is the greatest asset. Cherish it, use it to live, to strive, and don't let it be easily destroyed by others."

　He looked around at these people who had just struggled back from the brink of death, their eyes now rekindled with a faint flame of hope.

　"But doctor,"

　Old Joey held his grandson, his voice bitter, "The price of living is to keep going down into the mines, to keep wasting our newly regained health... In this world, we have no choice."

　Russell's gaze fell upon the dim dome in the distance, cut by massive rock walls and cold supporting pillars, as if piercing through the thick layers of rock to see the Beloborg suspended above suffering.

　"There will be."

　His voice carried a strange certainty: "Soon, things will change. Healthy bodies shouldn't be used only for enduring suffering. That's unfair to everyone."

　"Wait! Doctor!"

　The crowd stirred, and old Joey cried out urgently, “Please tell us your name! You are a benefactor to all of us! We…we need to know who we should thank!”

　Russell's figure had already disappeared into the deeper shadows beyond the slums, only his gentle voice drifted back, clearly imprinted on everyone's hearts:

　"Russell. Just a passing doctor. Remember health more than me. I really hope you don't see me a second time."

　His figure blended into the intricate alleyways of Panyan Town, as silently as he had arrived.

　Behind them were crowds of people holding food, stroking their recovered bodies, and lingering for a long time.

　The seeds of hope have been quietly sown, and Russell's gaze has turned to the malignant tumor known as Scott.

　Abundant compassion can heal ailments, but some deep-seated lesions require a more thorough approach to eradication.

　This is what Russell has been doing and the principles he has upheld for the past decade or so, and we must continue to practice them today.

　……

　Chapter 105 Eradicating the Root Cause.

　Russell stood at the entrance of Scott Boxing Gym, his gaze calmly sweeping over the Earthfire members who surrounded him.

　Their knuckles turned white as they gripped their weapons tightly, their eyes were wary, yet they trembled uncontrollably.

　He was merely offering his own way of admonishing the wicked Scott and his cronies—to let them vanish like dust, to be completely wiped from the world.

　This power to turn people to ashes with a mere wave of the hand has already stirred up a storm in the lower levels of the city, like a boulder thrown into stagnant water.

　A few minutes earlier, a man in a clean white suit walked into the boxing gym, and soon an argument broke out. Then came a piercing scream, followed by a panicked rush of people screaming, "Murder! He killed someone!"

　The ground fire, meant to maintain order, quickly amassed and surrounded the scene. When Russell calmly walked out, clapping his hands, he was met with a chilling atmosphere of impending conflict.

　"Everyone,"

　His voice was gentle, yet carried an undeniable penetrating power: "I've removed a malignant tumor for you. Even if you don't thank me, there's no need to welcome me like this, is there?"

　The guards exchanged bewildered glances. They knew all too well what kind of people Scott and his henchmen were.

　But rules are rules, and violence cannot be tolerated—even though their hands, which were holding weapons, were trembling slightly because they were facing this "merciful doctor."

　Rumors about him had already spread throughout the lower classes: free medical care, miraculous cures.

　He was a rare glimmer of light in the midst of suffering. And now, they are pointing their weapons at that glimmer of light.

　In the midst of the stalemate, a hearty laugh broke the tension.

　"Alright, alright! Put them away, put them all away!"

　A burly, white-haired man strode over; his epaulets indicated his status within the Earthfire organization. "It's just a minor dispute; there's no need for such a grand display. This is a guest of our Earthfire."

　"Commander Oleg! But..."

　The squad leader immediately reported.

　Oleg waved his hand, but his gaze fell on Russell, sharp and clear.

　“I’ve heard about what happened. Sir, please go ahead and do as you wish. We will handle the rest.”

　"Also... Dr. Natasha would like to see you, if it's convenient for you."

　Russell raised an eyebrow slightly. He studied Oleg—his demeanor was composed, his words were precise, like a standard soldier, but deep in his eyes lay a calculated assessment of the situation.

　He doesn't seem like the one who makes the final decision; he's more like a steady executor.

　"Dr. Natasha..."

　Russell repeated the name. He had heard too many praises of her from the poor: how she had managed to run a clinic in the depths of drug scarcity and treated almost everyone for free.

　Even if we can't save them, we'll do our best to alleviate their suffering.

　Moreover, Dr. Natasha went to great lengths to care for orphans; it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that she was the warmest ray of light in this terrible downtown area.

　A soul that upholds kindness even in despair. This is far more difficult than the circumstances he faced back then.

　He suddenly became genuinely interested in the trip. Perhaps, he didn't need to stay here any longer.

　Perhaps, with a proper blessing, one can find the best place in the lower realms.

　"I have time,"

　Russell stepped forward and smiled at Oleg, "I'm not familiar with the way, could you please take me to see this Dr. Natasha?"

　Oleg gave him a deep look, then nodded.

　"follow me."

　The members of the Earthfire group made way for them, watching the two leave with complicated expressions.

　Russell followed Oleg through the narrow streets of Rocky Town. Beneath the oppressive rock walls, the air was thick with the smells of engine oil, dust, and a barely perceptible hint of rust.

　On both sides were crowded shacks and broken machine parts. Occasionally, a sallow-faced, thin child would peek out, but would shrink back when he saw Oleg. When he saw Russell, however, a glint of curiosity would flash in his eyes.

　"They seem to know you."

　Oleg said without turning his head.

　"Perhaps it's because my clothes are more eye-catching."

　Russell spoke in a relaxed tone.

　"It's not just clothes,"

　Oleg stopped and turned to look at him. "You cured old Bondi's cough. His grandson tells everyone that a good doctor has come who dresses like an uptown gentleman but has the heart of Natasha."

　"Easy to do."

　"And Scott? Was it also 'just a small favor'?"

　Oleg's gaze was calm, yet weighty.

　Russell met his gaze, his face still bearing that faint smile.

　“Some lesions are beyond the reach of gentle medicine and can only be completely removed. I believe that those who maintain order should understand this principle.”

　Oleg was silent for a moment, then continued walking.

　"Natasha wouldn't like this approach."

　"So I'm really looking forward to meeting her."

　They stopped in front of a relatively sturdy old house, with a simple white curtain hanging at the door and a miner's lamp emitting a soft light beside it.

　This is Natasha's clinic.

　Oleg lifted the curtain.

　"It's inside. You two talk."

　He didn't intend to go in; he simply stepped aside.

　Russell nodded in acknowledgment and walked into the room alone.

　The smell of disinfectant mixed with the bitter scent of herbs wafted through the air. The space was small but tidy, with medicines neatly categorized and arranged on shelves.

　A woman dressed in a simple white coat, with a gentle demeanor, was standing with her back to him, tiptoeing as she tried to reach a jar of bandages on the top shelf.

　Russell silently stepped forward and easily took it down for her.

　"Thanks……"