Chapter 60: Benefits of Doing Good Deeds
She knew how valuable those stones were.
The Association and the Imperial Palace kept them under tight control. They were used to stabilize psychic energy, or as emergency treatment for miasma corruption. Even a small stone cost more than an ordinary family made in a year.
"They’re used Pure Energy Stones," the vendor said again. "Hollow now. Whatever was in them got scraped out a long time ago. Some might’ve even picked up a bit of dark energy just sitting around."
"Then why sell them?" Aisha asked.
The vendor sighed. "Real stones don’t come cheap, miss. Not every family can afford one when someone’s dying from miasma. So people buy these instead. Hoping to scrape out whatever’s left. A drop’s better than nothing, they figure."
Miasma was in everyone from birth. Ordinary people suffered from it the same as Sentinels did, and needed regular cleansing. But they didn’t have psychic power to fight it, and no Guide to purify them. A Pure Energy Stone was their only shot.
Even the White Energy Pills the academy produced for the students were in high demand.
No wonder Kane and the others stopped her the moment a Pure Energy Stone option showed up on her terminal.
Aisha frowned and looked back down the row of tents.
Most of the people here looked nothing like the ones in Sector 3, or the ones in the shops she’d passed earlier.
Dark marks covered their skin. She could see them on faces and arms — there were probably more, hidden under clothes.
That was when she noticed them.
An old man stood in front of a neighboring stall, his back bent from age and sickness. A boy stood beside him. Both of them were thin, and both had the dark spots.
The boy’s spot was only on his forehead, and he still looked healthier. The old man had it spreading down his neck and across half his face.
"Please," the old man said. "Just two more stones. I’ll pay the rest next week, I swear."
"Can’t do that," the stall owner said. "You still owe me from last time."
"I’ll work for it. I’ll do anything—"
"I said no. Move along."
The boy tugged at the old man’s sleeve and said something low that Aisha couldn’t hear. The old man shook his head and kept begging.
"My granddaughter needs this. Please, just these two—"
The stall owner turned his back on them. So did most of the other vendors nearby.
The old man’s shoulders dropped. He muttered something about how his granddaughter would be fine without it, though he didn’t sound like he believed it.
People walked past without looking at them.
This was probably normal here.
Aisha had no plan to get involved. She walked up to the stall owner anyway.
"I’ll take three," she said, setting down the money.
The stall owner wrapped up three stones fast, all smiles, and handed them over.
Aisha held them in her palm and checked what was left inside. The first vendor had been right — barely anything. Enough to dull someone’s pain for a few days. Not enough to heal anyone.
Useless to her. That’s probably why they got thrown out after one use.
She looked over at the old man and the boy, still standing there. The boy was trying to comfort him.
She walked over and held the stones out to the boy. "Here. Take these."
The old man blinked at her. "Miss...?"
"Take them. I don’t need them."
The boy’s eyes went wide. Before she could stop them, both of them dropped to their knees on the dirt, bowing.
"Thank you, miss! Thank you! We don’t know how to repay this!"
"Get up," Aisha said, thrown off. "It’s fine. You don’t owe me anything."
The old man was already digging through his pouch, trying to push money into her hands.
She stepped back. "I said it’s fine."
"We can’t take this and give nothing," the old man said. "Please, miss."
The boy glanced at the bag on her hip. He’d seen her buy monster meat from another stall earlier.
"That stall you bought from... was that monster remains?"
Aisha paused. "Yes. Why?"
"We have one too!" the boy said quickly. "Not just remains — a whole carcass. If you won’t take our money, take that instead."
The old man looked at him, startled. "Anshelm! You can’t just offer something like that. What if it offends the young lady?"
"It’s not the same as what’s sold out there," the boy said, ignoring him. "It hasn’t been cut into or moved."
Aisha thought about it. She hadn’t found much worth buying in the black market so far. If the boy really had a whole carcass, it was worth a look. If not, she’d lose nothing checking.
"Alright," she said.
The boy’s face lit up. Even the old man relaxed, a little.
They led her off the main stretch, through narrower alleys where the buildings leaned into each other. This was clearly the slum end of the floating island — the part reserved for people who couldn’t afford anywhere better.
Their home turned out to be a single room, patched together from rusted sheet metal and scrap. Barely enough space for a family.
"Wait here a moment," Anshel said, pointing at the spot by the door. "I’ll get it from the shed once I’m done inside."
Aisha nodded and stayed put while the boy and the old man went in.
Alone, she looked around. Narrow alleys between rows of tin houses. The smell of cheap food cooking somewhere close. Laundry strung up between buildings that barely had a gap between them.
Then a shout came from inside.
Aisha went still, hand already on her bag. If anything came out of that house at her, she’d cut it down before it got close.
"No more! I told you — no more of those stones!" A woman’s voice, sharp with pain.
The old man’s voice, trying to calm her. "It’s alright, it’s alright. Just absorb this, you’ll feel better."
Something hit the floor.
"Sister, why’d you throw it!" Anshel shouted. "Grandpa worked so hard to get those for you!"
"Because it’s useless!" the woman cried. "Don’t you get it? I’m never getting better. Those fake stones don’t do anything — they never have."
"There has to be a way," the old man said, his voice breaking. "I’ll go to the Association tomorrow. Line up for the free Guide Purification program again. Maybe this time our number gets called—"
"You said that last time too."