"Thank you," the lady said in a loud trembling voice..

When Bruce turned, he saw tears streaming freely down her face now, no longer restrained by fear alone but by something closer to desperate gratitude.

"I don't… I don't know what you did. I don't understand any of it." She swallowed hard, clutching her daughter closer. "But if she can really heal from this… if she can live… then I swear I'll thank you properly. However you want. However long it takes."

As a mother, she could feel it. Her daughter's breathing, once frantic and uneven, had subtly smoothed out. It was faint, fragile, but no longer slipping away by the second. And yet… that alone wasn't enough to erase the fear gnawing at her heart. Until her child truly recovered, she couldn't be sure of anything.

Bruce studied her for a brief moment, then his expression softened. A small smile tugged at his lips, faint but genuine.

"If you want to thank me," he said calmly, "then I do need your help."

The woman stiffened slightly, then nodded at once, bracing herself.

"I'll be nearby," Bruce continued. "At the library. When you feel ready to help, come find me there. That will be more than enough."

The words caught her off guard. A library? Still, it made sense to her in a strange way. People like him didn't do things for free. They always asked for something in return. Compared to what she had feared, this was… reasonable.

She nodded repeatedly. "I understand."

Carefully, she adjusted her grip and lifted her daughter into her arms. With one last bow, she turned and hurried away, the small crowd slowly parting to let her pass. As she disappeared down the street, the tension that had gripped the market finally began to loosen. Voices returned. Movement resumed. One by one, the onlookers dispersed, whispers trailing behind them.

Bruce exhaled quietly and turned toward the man who had helped him earlier.

He smiled faintly. "Is there a library nearby?"

The man blinked, clearly taken aback. He gave Bruce a strange look, confusion flickering across his face. After all, he had heard everything. Bruce had just told the woman he would be waiting at the library. And now he was asking for its location?

It didn't add up.

But as the man looked closer, at Bruce's composed posture, at the calm authority that still clung to him, whether from Bruce's accumulated Titles or simply from what Bruce had just done, the man's doubts softened. Maybe it was the way Bruce had acted without hesitation. Or maybe it was the fact that a little girl who should have died was still breathing.

Whatever the reason, the man felt, instinctively, that Bruce was a good person.

"Just head straight ahead," he said, pointing calmly down the road. "You'll see a signboard."

Bruce nodded. "Thanks."

He turned and began walking in that direction, his pace unhurried but purposeful. The decision had already been made in his mind. Wandering aimlessly through the market, hoping for answers or assistance, wasn't his style. If he was going to survive and plan properly, he needed knowledge. This world. Its plants. Its poisons. Its physiology. Its rules.

A few days of research would be far more valuable than blind movement.

And there was no guarantee that the next injured person would react the same way that woman had.

'It's a good thing she didn't question me too much,' Bruce thought quietly as he walked. 'Now I can only hope the kid heals quickly with the fundamentals I applied.'

Given the presence of magic in this world, physical strength and regenerative ability should far surpass that of humans on Earth. At least… that was his hope. If so, then she should recover faster than expected. All he could do now was trust his work and hope the woman would be kind enough to return and keep her word.

As for Akashic…

Bruce hadn't received any feedback. No Heal Points. No confirmation.

Which likely meant only one thing.

'The healing hasn't completed yet,' he concluded. 'She has to actually recover first.'

He let out a quiet sigh. All he could do now was wait and hope that one patient would be enough to start things rolling.

Lost in thought, he suddenly slowed, then stopped.

Without realizing it, he had walked much farther than he thought.

Ahead of him stood a simple wooden signboard. No grand design. No embellishment. Just a carved symbol indicating a library, with an arrow pointing toward an inconspicuous house tucked away nearby.

Bruce stared at it for a moment, then let out a low sigh.

"Well," he murmured.

And without hesitation, he turned and walked toward it.

There was no guard.

That alone was noteworthy.

Pushing the door open, Bruce stepped inside and glanced around. It was, at a glance, exactly what one would expect of a library. Rows of shelves lined the walls. Stacks of books rested quietly in place. Tables sat undisturbed, as if waiting for readers who never came.

And yet… something felt off.

The place looked old. Not merely aged, but neglected. The shelves were worn, their edges chipped and dull. The air carried a faint, dry scent. Paper and dust mingled together. More importantly, the books themselves were strange. The pages weren't white like the paper he knew from Earth. Even in Velmora, most books had been refined to a clean, pale shade.

But these pages were brown. The color of treated wood. Dark, uneven, almost depressing to look at, as if time itself had stained them.

And the library was completely empty.

No librarian. No scholars. No casual readers.

Just silence.

"Interesting…" Bruce muttered under his breath.

His gaze drifted across the shelves until a particular title caught his eye.

Foundations of the Nether Realm.

His brows lifted slightly.

Bruce reached out, fingers brushing against the thick cover before pulling the book free. It was heavier than expected. Solid. Old. Carrying a weight that had nothing to do with mass alone.

He moved toward a corner of the library, sat down, and opened it.

The interior was dim, shadows pooling between the shelves, but that wasn't an issue. His eyes had been enhanced back in Velmora. Reading in low light was effortless now, almost natural.

The very first line made the corner of his lips lift.

'Nether, the energy our overlord Hades blessed us with, is the core of our existence...'

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