Deep inside the realm, there was an ancient temple. Many people were injured after fierce battles. A healer was treating people, charging high fees.
"One healing pill costs 500 points! No bargaining!" the healer said arrogantly. He was an elder from a famous medicine sect.
Anthony came over with a small scratch on his arm (from protecting Yan Zhuo earlier).
"Elder, can you treat this?"
The healer glanced at him. "Minor wound. 500 points."
"That's expensive. Can you do it cheaper? Or just teach me how, I can do it myself."
"Hah! You do it yourself? Do you know medical arts? Brat, don't be arrogant. Medicine is profound!" The healer sneered. "You probably don't even have 500 points. Get lost, don't waste my time."
"I do have points," Anthony said. "But I think your skills are a bit slow. Look, you are making that patient's arm numb."
"Nonsense! I am a master!"
"Watch then." Anthony walked to the patient the healer had just treated. The patient was indeed grimacing in pain.
"Let me adjust it."
Anthony pressed a few points on the arm. Crackle.
"Ah! It doesn't hurt anymore! I feel light!" the patient exclaimed in surprise.
The healer's face turned green. "Luck! Just luck!"
"Is it?" Anthony picked up a herb. "You are using the Purple Leaf Flower wrong. It causes cold energy to accumulate. You should mix it with Sun Grass."
"You... you know pharmacology?!"
"A little," Anthony smiled. "Enough to know that you are overcharging and under-delivering. Shame on you."
Anthony took out his own pills. "Anyone needs healing? I have pills. One point each."
"Really?! Give me one!"
"Me too!"
The crowd swarmed Anthony, completely ignoring the arrogant healer. The healer stood there alone, his face as dark as charcoal.