"It’s not a gathering? You brought here to see sothing?"
Listening to Jas’ words, Harold spoke with a puzzled expression. Having just arrived in Igwynt not long ago, he had received an invitation from Jas, one of Igwynt’s prominent figures. He had assud it would be a gathering of the city’s upper class, yet instead, Jas had said he wanted to show him sothing. This left Harold sowhat confused.
"Uh… Mr. Jas, may I ask what exactly you want to show …?" Harold asked in confusion as he glanced at the hospital behind Jas, wondering what there could possibly be to see in a hospital.
"Heh, please follow ."
Facing Harold’s question, Jas smiled slightly, then turned and walked toward the hospital entrance. Seeing this, Harold, though puzzled, did not hesitate to follow.
Trailing behind Jas, Harold walked through the corridors of the Saint Tenet Hospital. The pungent sll of disinfectant made him pinch his nose, and he swept a look of disgust at the frail patients lying on the benches along the hallway. His eyes flashed with disdain at the commoners lined up in long queues for treatnt. The noisy environnt of this public hospital made him extrely uncomfortable. If not for the fact that Jas had invited him, he would have turned and left imdiately.
Following Jas, Harold turned left and right through the hospital until they reached a secluded corridor. After passing through a large iron door guarded by security, they arrived at a special section with iron bars sealing its windows. Strange noises echoed through the space, as if many people were howling in the distance.
Entering this slightly eerie area, Harold felt a bit uneasy but still forced himself to follow Jas. Soon, they reached another corridor, where the rooms on one side all had heavy iron doors with barred windows, through which he could see the patients inside.
These patients were all children around ten years old. Each was confined to their own room—so wailing, so struggling, so biting their bed sheets, and so strapped tightly to their beds. The sounds of fists pounding on doors and agonized cries intertwined, painting a scene straight out of a madhouse.
"Mr. Jas, this is an asylum, isn’t it? These are lunatics, aren’t they? Why—why did you bring to such a dangerous place?"
With a look of alarm, Harold turned to Jas, who responded calmly.
"Lord Harold, these are not lunatics. They are children whom Viscount Field adopted through his charitable efforts in recent years. Unfortunately, Viscount Field’s carriage was attacked by a pack of wild wolves in the mountains, and he tragically passed away. These children were all in the carriage at the ti, witnessing the brutal scene of wild beasts devouring people and the viscount’s death. The trauma left them in this state."
Jas slowly explained, and upon hearing this, Harold paused for a mont before glancing at the children in the ward. He then forced a look of sympathy onto his face and spoke with a tone of regret.
"Oh… so these are the children that Viscount Field adopted. How pitiful. Born as orphans, they were finally taken in by my kind-hearted cousin and given a prosperous life, only for fate to be so cruel. Now, they’ve ended up in this miserable state. Will they have to live like this for the rest of their lives? Oh, Holy Father… why did You call back my benevolent cousin so soon? Could You not have let him do a few more good deeds on this earth?"
Harold sighed, his expression filled with emotion and sincerity. By the end, he even took out a handkerchief to dab at the corners of his eyes. Seeing this display, Jas spoke again.
"Lord Harold, there is no need to grieve. Their condition is not beyond hope. As long as they receive continuous treatnt and sufficient funding, they all still have a chance to recover."
"What? They can still be cured?!" Harold blurted out in surprise at Jas’ words, and Jas nodded slowly in confirmation.
"Yes. As long as the treatnt continues, their symptoms at this stage are still reversible. However, this requires significant funding. Since they are not in a sound state of mind, they are unable to inherit Viscount Field’s properties.
"So, Lord Harold, if you do succeed in inheriting the properties in the future, I hope you will take on Viscount Gary Field’s responsibility and provide these children with the dical expenses needed for their treatnt.
"Though the viscount is no longer with us, I believe his spirit of charity is sothing worth carrying on. Don’t you agree, Lord Harold?"
Jas turned to Harold, who visibly frowned at these words. He remained silent for a mont before speaking slowly.
"Ah… about that… Well, to be honest, Mr. Jas, you know as well as I do that Viscount Field passed away suddenly—he had no heirs, no will, and no close relatives. That ans several of us distant relatives, including myself, have co to Igwynt to compete for his inheritance. The competition is quite fierce, and I don’t even know if I’ll win in the end. So, I can’t make any promises here. If I fail to inherit the properties but have made commitnts, that would just make a laughingstock.”
"I think, Mr. Jas, you should perhaps speak with so of the other claimants instead. They might have a better chance than I do."
With a polite smile, Harold said this to Jas, who responded quietly.
"I have already approached the others. They either rejected outright or gave answers similar to yours. Lord Harold, you are now these children’s only hope."
"Ah… you’ve already asked them all?" Harold was slightly taken aback by Jas’ words. He glanced around anxiously before turning back to Jas with a grin.
"Haha… Mr. Jas, I think it’s still a bit too early to discuss this matter. Let’s wait until I officially confirm my inheritance first."
At Harold’s response, Jas’ expression darkened, and he replied, "Sir Harold, compared to Viscount Field’s wealth, the cost of treatnt is a re pittance. Spending such a small amount to earn a good reputation—are you really not considering it?"
"If I’m going to consider it, it will be after I inherit the properties. In any case, now is not the ti. Oh, and—I just rembered sothing urgent I need to attend to, so I’ll be taking my leave here, Mr. Jas."
With an obvious attempt to brush him off, Harold spoke to Jas. He then gave a slight bow and prepared to leave. Seeing this, Jas tried to stop him.
"Wait a mont, Harol—"
"There’s no need to stop him, Mr. Jas."
At that mont, a clear, youthful voice rang out from the other end of the corridor. Upon hearing it, both Jas and Harold paused and turned toward the source of the voice.
Standing at the far end of the hallway was a small figure.
Dressed in a white hospital gown, with a thin fra, long, flowing blonde hair, and bright blue eyes, before them stood a girl of about ten years old.
"You are… one of the children?" Jas murmured, trying to recall. anwhile, Harold, who had been preparing to leave, scowled at the scene before him and spoke harshly.
"Where did this brat co from, daring to interrupt our conversation?!"
At Harold’s words, the girl gave a slight bow, then straightened her back and introduced herself.
"My na is Anna Field. I am the seventh adopted child whom my respected father, Lord Gary Field, publicly and legally acknowledged before the esteed gentlen of Igwynt. And now, I am also his only rightful and legitimate heir—the next Viscount Field."
As she spoke, Anna turned her gaze toward Jas, who looked at her in astonishnt. She continued speaking.
"Mr. Jas, you do not need to place your hopes in outsiders. These poor, tornted souls are my brothers and sisters—I will not abandon them."
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