Chapter 4: Pride or progress

"Hey, were the hamsters scary?"

"Are you sure you didn't go to the beach for that pearl? It barely has mana in it!"

"I heard that they just smashed the core. Saying that it was stunted."

Leander kept his head down as he did his thirty minutes before the faucet. His dungeon delving was the talk of the town. But it had brought him no glory.

Instead, people ridiculed him openly, when before they had at least whispered behind his back. He forced his eyes to remain dry, but it was a hard task.

What was he doing all this for? Was there any purpose behind him trying to lose weight? Doing chores for someone? He felt a tap on his shoulder and prepared himself for more mocking.

"Don't listen to them. They would have probably been stupid enough to take the sapphire before they neutralized the core," Leander turned to look at the mountain of muscles that was next to him. He had a big axe strapped on his back and was looking at the poster behind the faucet. "So, you want to lose weight?"

"Yes," Leander managed. He was not good at talking to people. Most of the children had avoided him, growing up. So, he had had only books for company.

"That is a good start. Did you know that fatty liver is one of the main reasons people gain weight?" And much to Leander's amazement, the teen, who looked about his age, began doing the same exercise as him. "Hey, this is nice. Relaxing."

And, just like that, the crowd that had gathered to mock Leander dispersed, probably bored now that Leander was not alone. Leander blinked at the teen, who seemed to be having a much easier time than him, and went to stare back at the poster.

"It was an obvious trap. Surely, no one would have fallen for it," Leander cycled back to the dungeon delving because he didn't want to admit that his liver might be covered in fat. Or that he didn't know the significance of that fact.

"You'd be surprised. There was this person in my party, Yolk something, who tried to extract a marble from a stone slime while it was still alive. He got his hand bitten off for his trouble. We didn't have a healer with us, so it got infected. He is in the clinic now," the teen said, sighing.

 At that, Leander sighed. Greed was one of the biggest occupational hazards in the adventurer's line of work.

"But, back to the fatty liver," the teen's smile was back, as Leander turned to look at him. "The liver is what burns fat the most, followed by muscles. If your liver doesn't work properly, then you won't burn fat. No matter how much you exercise."

Leander wanted to snap at the teen that, no, he wasn't giving up his daily trips to the poster. But then. He got a thought:

Pride or progress?

It was easy to alienate someone, but this person didn't seem mocking. He didn't sound like he wanted for Leander to give up. So, Leander decided to bite the arrow.

"So, apart from a surgery, what can fix the liver?" The teen turned his head and gave Leander a nice dimple-filled lopsided smile that made the healer's knees weak.

"One thing: Smoothies!"

 Leander blinked. Wait, what?

"For real now," Leander said; the teen chuckled.

"I am being real with you. Smoothies, when taken as snacks between meals, are easier on the liver than normal snacks that the liver will actually have to work through. People with diabetes heal their sickness by drinking two smoothies per day, for breakfast and dinner, and their liver does the rest. It is how I got better!"

"You are sculpted like a statue, though," Leander blurted out, the teen tilted his head at him.

"You should have seen me a couple of years ago. My ribs were showing, and I had fainting spells constantly. Then, my mother took me to a hedge healer, and he told me about the smoothies. I liked bananas already, adding milk was a no-brainer. After two years, I was as right as rain," the boy even showed him a thumbs up.

 Leander nodded, amazed. Not knowing why the boy was being so nice, or even if he was going to continue being civil. People rarely did.

And yet…

Could it be possible that the fault for his extra layers of fat really laid in his liver? Why hadn't the medical check-ups shown anything? And, if this teen had turned his life around, then, why couldn't Leander do the same?

"Hey, what is your name?" The teen asked as the final sand grain fell down. Leander stopped moving and noticed that his kneecaps hurt less than usual.

"Leander, and you?" Leander extended a sweaty hand to the teen, who took it.

"Morris, nice to meet you, Leander. Same place, same time, tomorrow?"

 Leander wanted to cry then. This was the first time that someone had reached out to him, instead of Leander having to offer for them to spend time.

"Sure," Leander did not like how weak his voice sounded, but he still squeezed the Morris' hand. Hoping that he will find him the next day.

Bathing in the warmth, the tall adventurer gave out simply by smiling.

Morris waved and went on his way. Leander looked at the poster again. Sure, the day had started off like shit, but he had made a friend, or at least he hoped he had. It was too early to tell.

With a bounce to his step, he went to the library. He spent some time looking up how to prevent a wound from getting infected. And, after that, how to treat infections.

Leander found out that there were four main types of infections which could be seen in the humanoid inhabitants of the continent of Fluia.

 Viral, fungal, bacterial, and parasitic.

 Each with different subcategories and different causes. He focused on the bacterial and parasitic, as they sounded like your average adventurer's occupational hazard. And then, he took notes and went to practice on dolls in the practice room.

When closing time came, the librarian once again had to ask him to leave. Leander went back to the inn. The sapphire alone had netted him enough for a month-long stay. He wasn't worried about the rent.

The dungeon core was not destroyed but used in farming because of its potential for quick meat yield, he had found out back in the library. That made Leander happy.

The core had just tried to protect itself. It hadn't even been capable of thought. So, he was glad nothing had happened to it apart from a change of home.