Safe City Ch.33.1

Chapter 33.1: Big Fish

The doctor’s name was Yuan Ben.

In truth, although he was a doctor from Velvet Star, his position hadn’t been particularly high. He had been nothing more than an ordinary resident physician at a hospital.

If hospitals had a food chain, resident physicians were at the very bottom of it.

No days off all year round. On call twenty-four hours a day. All the dirty work and exhausting tasks fell to the residents. Every senior doctor could order them around to run errands and assist with procedures, and they were especially likely to end up taking the blame when something went wrong.

Back when he was utterly worn out from work, Yuan Ben had complained countless times about why he had ever chosen medicine as his field of study.

In the end, he simply couldn’t endure it any longer. His health deteriorated, his anxiety worsened, and the pressure kept mounting.

Finally, gritting his teeth, Yuan Ben resigned.

Then the apocalypse arrived—and unexpectedly, being a doctor saved his life.

Other survivors often had to compete for grueling manual labor just to earn enough survival points to stay alive. He, on the other hand, only needed to pass an examination to join Blue Sea’s medical team.

Though the doctors in Blue Sea… were a little unusual.

That morning, Yuan Ben woke up.

He looked around. The room was a bare cave dwelling. It wasn’t very large—just enough space for a bed, a table, and a chamber pot.

A faint glow filtered in from outside. Every night, the central area of the outer city remained illuminated. Residents who didn’t want the light shining into their homes had to spend a small number of points to rent cloth curtains to cover their cave entrances.

But almost no one in Yuan Ben’s residential area bothered to do that.

Because most of the people living there were Velvet Star natives.

After the zombie outbreak, all technology had failed. Most survivors had endured a chaotic and terrifying first night.

They couldn’t see the roads clearly. They couldn’t tell whether the figures approaching them were living people or zombies. All they could do was flee in panic and helplessness while listening to the growls of zombies in the darkness and the screams of other people.

The darkness magnified fear and bred despair.

As a result, light became one of the greatest comforts for survivors.

Yuan Ben was much like most other survivors.

After waking up, he cautiously poked his head out and surveyed the residential area.

Rationally, he knew this was a very safe city. Troops were stationed outside, armed drones patrolled the skies, anyone entering the city had to spend a required period in quarantine, and above the city floated airships capable of observing the distant surroundings.

But emotionally, his body was still afraid.

He worried. He feared the past repeating itself.

He had to use his own eyes and ears to carefully scan his surroundings and confirm that everyone here was normal—that no one would suddenly let out a growl and lunge at another person.

So Yuan Ben stayed inside his cave dwelling, observing quietly as though he were hiding in a safe house.

Only after he saw that most residents were already awake—peacefully tidying themselves up or climbing onto ladders to head down for work—did he finally breathe a sigh of relief.

He had to admit that Blue Sea’s residential quarters were a stroke of genius.

This small cave had allowed him to enjoy a good night’s sleep for the first time in a long while.

At the very least, if someone really did turn into a zombie, the smooth walls that zombies couldn’t climb, the staggered arrangement of the cave dwellings, and the ability to clearly see the residents living across from him all gave Yuan Ben an immense sense of security.

To be honest, he didn’t want to leave this safe haven at all.

But he knew he couldn’t keep hiding forever.

He needed work. He needed points. He needed to prove his value.

Yuan Ben was not a follower of Blue Sea’s Creator God, so his residence was located in the Outer City. The hospital where he worked—or rather, the temple—was also in the Outer City.

That made him uneasy.

Instinctively, he wanted to become one of the “insiders” of this powerful force rather than remain in the Outer City as an outsider forever.

Yuan Ben gave himself a little pep talk.

Following the directions provided by the AI assistant on his phone, he boarded Bus Route 453.

Blue Sea’s AI assistant had recently released translation software. It had already incorporated the complete languages of four civilizations, and according to reports, more languages would continue to be added in the future.

This made it much easier for Yuan Ben to integrate into life in Blue Sea.

The phone he was using had been issued by the temple.

Because his current status was that of a member of the clergy, the temple covered the rent for his residence, provided a commuting allowance, helped him obtain a phone, and also gave him a cafeteria card.

In other words, even though Yuan Ben was only a deacon at the moment (and was still doing the work of a resident physician), his salary, combined with the various benefits provided by the temple, already placed him in the upper-middle income range among Outer City residents.

For someone who was used to low pay, heavy workloads, unpaid overtime, and endless night shifts, Yuan Ben felt almost overwhelmed by the generosity.

“But I’m only a newly arrived deacon.”

The first time he learned how much he would be paid, he cautiously asked a Blue Sea deacon:

“Can I really receive such a high salary? Honestly, I could accept much less. The temple is already covering my living expenses, and I’m deeply grateful for that.”

What if the temple realized he wasn’t actually worth that much? Would they just fire him?

The Blue Sea deacon looked at him strangely.

“Why would you think that, my friend? You possess the ability to save lives. Naturally, you deserve to be treated well.”

At the time, Yuan Ben hadn’t known what to say.

But he knew that he had begun to like the temple.

Back to the present—

After arriving at Blue Sea’s Third Temple in the Outer City, Yuan Ben first went to the cafeteria for breakfast.

Looking around, the dining hall was filled with clergy members. Everyone wore sacred robes in various colors, and whenever acquaintances met, they would nod slightly and greet one another:

“May Our God watch over you. May you be blessed with good health.”

Although Yuan Ben had only been working at the hospital for a few days, he had already become familiar with several deacons who worked alongside him.

Using somewhat clumsy Blue Sea language, he imitated the others and offered his blessings to his colleagues.

After sitting down with them, Yuan Ben also skillfully began the customary prayer before the meal.

He hadn’t completely memorized the prayer yet, but fortunately, the Blue Sea people didn’t mind. They only cared about whether they themselves were reciting the prayer properly and paid little attention to what others were doing.

In fact, even if Yuan Ben didn’t recite the prayer at all, the Blue Sea people wouldn’t think badly of him. However, because he wanted to integrate into Blue Sea society, he felt he should join in.

After the prayer, everyone ate.

Much like doctors back on Velvet Star, Blue Sea’s clergy chatted while they ate.

They gossiped, talked about patients, discussed newly arrived medical equipment, made plans to watch movies after work, or spoke about their families.

After breakfast, as Yuan Ben walked through the temple, patients and their family members who saw the pale white robes that marked him as a deacon would place a hand over their chest and give a slight nod.

“Your Reverence.”

When Yuan Ben first encountered this, he had no idea how to respond. His colleagues told him that a simple nod in return was enough.

“They’re expressing their respect for us. You should nod back so they know you’ve acknowledged that respect.”

It wasn’t just passersby who acted this way—even the patients did.

That made Yuan Ben even more uncomfortable.

Back when he worked at a Velvet Star hospital, most patients had been perfectly reasonable. But after working as a doctor long enough, everyone eventually encountered difficult patients and family members from time to time.

There were those who distrusted doctors and believed medications were prescribed unnecessarily.

Those whose illnesses simply couldn’t be cured, yet blamed the doctors for lacking ability.

Those who caused problems themselves but shifted the blame onto medical staff.

Those who used emotional manipulation.

Those who treated doctors like customer-service attendants.

And so on, and so on.

But in Blue Sea, none of that existed.

Every patient behaved remarkably reasonably. They trusted the temple completely. Everyone was courteous and cooperative. Whatever medical instructions the deacons gave, patients followed them. And if they failed to follow them, they would openly admit that the mistake was their own.

“Could it be because we’re clergy?” he wondered.

Yuan Ben was genuinely astonished.

After working as a doctor for so many years, this was the first time he had encountered such a positive medical environment.

His colleague shook her head.

“No. It’s because every member of Blue Sea’s clergy takes an oath before the Great Creator God when they enter the temple.”

“What kind of oath?”

“The Clergy Oath.”

She pulled up the declaration on a hospital computer and translated it for him.

[Before the Great God, I, [name], swear upon my life that I willingly dedicate myself to the Temple and become the most loyal follower of Our God.

I will save lives, spread love throughout the world, keep myself pure, never oppress the weak, never shrink from danger, and give my utmost effort. I will place life above all else, honor this vow for my entire life, and remain faithful to it until death!]

Yuan Ben looked at it in confusion.

This wasn’t all that different from a physician’s oath.

The deacon respectfully bowed toward the Creator God’s statue standing at the center of the temple.

“Our God watches over us. Once we swear an oath before Our God, we must fulfill it.”

“Our God loves all people. Therefore, we are willing to sacrifice ourselves for others. Whomever God loves, I shall love as well. Throughout history, the Temple has always been this way.”

Yuan Ben listened, dumbfounded.

This really sounded like the sort of thing religions used to indoctrinate people.

As far as he knew, many religions preached one thing and practiced another.

Yet after work, using a hospital computer (the AI translation software was incredibly useful), he did some research and discovered that the deacon had actually been telling the truth.

Throughout history, the Temple had always been this way.

Clergy members are people who have dedicated their entire body and soul to God.

God’s will is our will. The direction God points is the direction we shall go.

The Temple had heard the voice of God.

God loved all people—

God wished for more people to survive—

And so the Temple’s medical system was born.

Every clergy member who joined the Temple devoted themselves wholeheartedly to healing and saving others.

Whenever there was a major disaster—war, war, and more war—the Temple would ignore the flames of conflict and send large numbers of clergy directly into the battlefield.

The Temple had no national allegiance, nor any entanglement of interests. It existed purely to save lives.

Once they entered a battlefield, they would treat any soldier, regardless of which side he belonged to.

They would not interfere in the politics of any country, nor would they attempt to mediate the war itself.

You fight your war; I save my patients.

If a soldier they saved recovered and later returned to the battlefield, the Temple would not stop him. And if that same soldier was later carried back again, the clergy would still treat him just as before.

In normal times, the Temple earned money through medical services. But when large-scale disasters struck, the clergy would offer free treatment and even proactively go into the most dangerous areas to rescue and heal the wounded.

Throughout Blue Sea’s development, during several major crises, the Temple once emptied itself almost entirely to save people, reducing its population to barely one-thousandth of its original size—leaving behind only a few very young children.

Yet when the next crisis came, the Temple would once again throw itself in without hesitation.

And whenever it weakened due to such losses, regardless of the era or how many nations existed at the time, those nations would fund its reconstruction.

At the same time, wave after wave of people would join the Temple and become new clergy members.

The people of Blue Sea believed in the Great Creator God, and they also believed in the Temple that carried out the will of that God.

In daily life, the Temple also received enormous donations from civilians—truly enormous sums.

If there was any institution in Blue Sea that was the richest, it was undoubtedly the Temple.

And yet none of its clergy would ever personally touch that money.

The funds might be used to improve medical facilities, support impoverished patients, increase clergy salaries, or develop new medical equipment. Whatever it was used for, the people of Blue Sea fully trusted that the Temple would never misuse it.

“Because we have sworn an oath before Our God,” they said.

The deacon changed into his uniform and, noticing Yuan Ben’s expression of a worldview collapsing, smiled and explained:

“You haven’t truly joined Blue Sea yet, so you can’t understand this. An oath sworn before a deity is the most valuable promise we people of Blue Sea can give.”

“That’s also why, while you are in the Temple, you can only work within monitored areas. Because you are not yet a true member of the clergy—you haven’t made that commitment. So you must be supervised. The Temple is responsible for its patients.”

Yuan Ben genuinely couldn’t understand it.

Pure trust was something humans found extremely difficult to maintain. Anyone who had lived more than twenty years would have a deep understanding of that.

Yet Blue Sea seemed to possess exactly that kind of pure trust.

The clergy faithfully upheld their vows.

And the people of Blue Sea, in turn, placed complete trust in the Temple.

Everything looked so perfect that it felt unreal—almost like a fabrication.

<< _ >>