Zenon sat at the edge of the hospital bed, stretching his arms. His body felt fine now—no soreness, no lingering pain. The healer really did a good job.
After an hour of resting, he decided it was time to leave. Hospitals weren’t exactly his favorite places. He walked out of the room, heading to the reception desk to settle his bill.
The nurse at the counter smiled as she handed him a printed invoice. “Here’s your total, sir.”
Zenon glanced at the paper. And then his eyes nearly popped out of his skull.
"Excuse me, what?"
The number on the bill was ridiculous. He stared at it again, convinced he had misread it. But no, the digits were still there, taunting him.
He slowly turned to the nurse. "I was only here for an hour. Why does it feel like I just paid for a full-body transplant?"
