Mrs. Ryan was about to move some clutter aside when Glenn stopped her with a gentle smile.
“Madam, you’re with child. You shouldn’t be lifting heavy things.”
Her eyes widened in astonishment. “How did you know? I only just found out myself!”
“I studied a little medicine. It shows,” Glenn replied lightly as he worked.
With his heightened senses and a grasp of basic medical knowledge, discerning a pregnancy was hardly difficult for him.
“That’s incredible!” she exclaimed.
“By the way,” Glenn said, pausing briefly, “I thought I heard someone coughing earlier. Is that your husband? Has he fallen ill?”
From the moment he approached the house, Glenn had caught the faint scent of something unusual—not from Mrs. Ryan, but someone else.
A look of worry clouded her face. “Yes… my husband works at the constabulary. There was an accident during a mission yesterday. Since then, he’s been weak and bedridden. A doctor has already examined him, but no one can find the cause.”
After noting down the doorframe’s measurements, Glenn hesitated for a moment before saying softly, “May I have a look at him? As I said, I’ve studied some medicine. Perhaps I can help.”
“Truly!?” Mrs. Ryan’s face lit up with hope and gratitude.
She had spent the entire day fretting over her husband’s strange illness—so much so that she had nearly forgotten about replacing the door until Glenn arrived.
If no one in town could treat him, she had planned to take him to the main city’s hospital, though the cost would be enormous.
Even if Glenn’s help turned out fruitless, his kindness alone moved her deeply.
“I can only try, madam,” Glenn said humbly. “Don’t pin too much hope on it.”
“That’s already more than enough. Thank you, kind child.”
Following her upstairs, Glenn entered the bedroom and immediately recognized the mustached officer he had met once before.
The man lay on the bed, racked by bouts of coughing. When the door opened, he assumed it was his wife—until he saw Glenn and blinked in surprise.
“This is the carpenter I hired to replace the door,” Mrs. Ryan explained, gently helping him sit up. “He says he knows a bit of medicine, so I asked him to take a look at you.”
“We meet again, Officer,” Glenn said, bowing politely.
“It’s you?” The man coughed twice, peering at him. “Glenn, wasn’t it? I thought you were a butcher. Since when do you do carpentry?”
“You two know each other?” Mrs. Ryan asked curiously.
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“We’ve crossed paths on a case,” the officer explained simply.
“I dabble in several trades,” Glenn said with a sheepish smile, scratching his head.
The officer chuckled. “Many skills make for easy earnings—but I imagine it keeps you busy.”
“I manage,” Glenn replied.
After a brief exchange, Glenn turned serious. “Your wife mentioned you’ve been unwell. I know a little about medicine—would you allow me to examine you, Captain?”
“People usually call me Captain Daugherty,” the man said. “My team just calls me ‘Captain.’”
“Understood, Captain Daugherty. May I?” Glenn asked respectfully.
“Of course. It’s kind of you to offer—I’d be a fool to refuse.”
Glenn stepped forward and gently took Daugherty’s wrist, adopting the composed air of an experienced physician.
The couple exchanged surprised glances. They had never seen anyone diagnose illness in such a way. Glenn seemed almost mystical.
In truth, his medical skill was limited—basic knowledge required during his time in the army.
The real reason he volunteered was that he found the man likable—and his heightened lupine senses had detected something unusual.
When the others weren’t looking, a single claw quietly extended from his index finger, piercing the skin just enough to release a trace of wolf venom into the bloodstream.
He guided it with precise control, letting it flow through the veins in search of the disturbance he had sensed.
Daugherty felt only a faint tingling in his arm, unaware of what was truly happening.
When the venom reached the region around his heart, Glenn’s eyes flickered.
There it was.
Something—an unknown energy—had lodged itself near the heart, slowly leeching away the man’s vitality.
Even the venom seemed drawn toward it, as though the force were feeding on life itself.
Carefully, Glenn manipulated the venom, wrapping the malignant energy and drawing it out from the body.
Done, he thought, relief settling over him. He looked up with a calm smile. “I’ve found the cause.”
“Truly!?” the couple gasped in unison.
Glenn nodded. Then, bringing his fingers together like a blade, he said solemnly, “I’ll use a healing method my teacher once taught me.”
As the final word fell, his fingers struck several points along Daugherty’s chest, then released his wrist. A faint violet mist coiled around his fingertips before he subtly concealed it behind his back.
Almost instantly, Daugherty felt warmth surge through him. The weakness, dizziness, and tightness in his chest vanished as if swept away.
“This… this is a miracle!” he exclaimed.
He knew full well that something unnatural had invaded his body the night before—a wisp of violet mist, dark and malign. Yet somehow, Glenn’s strange technique had purged it entirely.
“Are you… a mage?” he asked in disbelief. “This kind of healing shouldn’t even be possible!”
Mrs. Ryan covered her mouth, her eyes wide. “He’s cured!?”
Their astonishment was exactly what Glenn had expected. He smiled faintly and said, “It’s an old family art—specialized in rare and difficult ailments. The captain’s condition happened to match its use.”
“Family art?” Daugherty echoed, bewildered—but it did sound impressive.
“Thank you, Glenn—was it? Good lad, what do we owe you? We’re not wealthy, but we can pay well enough,” Mrs. Ryan said, her voice trembling with emotion.
“It was nothing,” Glenn replied modestly. “Let’s say… ten copper coins. That should be fair.”
“That’s far too little! Treatment in the capital would cost a hundred times that! Take ten silver coins instead. You don’t know how desperate I was this morning—I thought I’d lost him forever! Please, you’ve earned this.”
Without waiting for protest, she fetched a small pouch and pressed ten silver coins into his hands.
The gesture, open and sincere, showed how deeply they trusted him—a frank and generous family.
“Take it,” Captain Daugherty said warmly. “A police captain’s pay is decent enough.”
Glenn fingered the coins, then quietly removed nine of them and returned them to Mrs. Ryan.
“Thank you,” he said softly, “but I know ten silver coins is no small sum for your household. You’ll have a child soon—keep it for your family. Consider this one coin my blessing for the little one.”
No matter how they insisted, Glenn refused to take more.
And as he left, the couple’s eyes lingered on him—filled with gratitude, awe, and something far deeper that neither could quite name.

