When Harry finally broke free from the intense pain, he saw Dekisugi looking at him with concern—and a hint of guilt.
Seeing that he seemed better, Dekisugi spoke up, "Are you alright? I'm sorry for making you feel so awful… I really am."
Harry shook his head. "No, actually I should thank you. You helped me remember some things."
Dekisugi lit up. "Really? What did you remember? Can you tell me?"
"Yeah. My name is Daichi Yayahara. I'm the same age as you. My parents… they died trying to protect me. They're buried beneath the glacier now. And now, I don't even know what I'm supposed to do next."
As he spoke, Harry felt tears slip from the corners of his eyes. He reached up to touch them—they were real. Strange… he didn't feel sad. It must've been Daichi's own feelings bleeding through.
"Even if the consciousness fades, the body still remembers love like that? If I really died just like that, my parents from my old life must've been heartbroken too… How am I ever going to face them? What a headache."
Then he asked something that had been bothering him: "So… who's paying for all my medical bills?"
That kind of money wasn't small. In his past life, he'd seen countless families fall apart under the burden of medical debt. Letting others cover such costs made him feel uneasy.
"Don't worry. Most of your medical expenses are being covered by the government. As for the rest, we covered it for now. You can pay us back when you're able. Anyway, you really shouldn't worry about this stuff right now. Focus on resting—your health comes first."
After saying that, Dekisugi carefully straightened out the blanket Harry had messed up.
They chatted for a little while longer before Dekisugi glanced at the time, stood up, and said, "Sorry, I've got to go make lunch. I'll come back later to check on you. Don't go walking around, okay? You're still recovering." He waved and closed the door behind him.
As soon as he left, Harry let out a long sigh—finally, he could do what he really wanted: practice magic.
According to the knowledge he'd obtained, magic wasn't a power exclusive to the demon race. But since he had it now, no matter who it originally belonged to, he had to give it a shot.
He slowly recalled the content of Magic Extraction Chapter One and, still somewhat skeptical, tried guiding the forces of nature into his mind.
Thin streams of elemental energy entered his consciousness, blending with his spirit to form a new kind of power—this was the "magic" described in the book.
What surprised him most was how little spiritual energy it consumed. It was like scooping a single drop from a full bowl—after a few minutes of rest, he was fully recovered.
Feeling that trace of magic power, Harry tried casting a Lesser Healing spell. But he couldn't even complete the opening gesture.
"Guess I should wait until I've formed my first sigil in my consciousness before trying again. Can't do much without it."
Condensing a sigil marked the start of a mage's first stage. It only took a simple, single-stroke rune.
Besides being symbolic, the rune would help accelerate spiritual recovery, improve magic extraction, and allow for passive cultivation. A level-one mage could store up to ten single-stroke runes in their consciousness.
With that in mind, Harry went right back into training. After an hour, he had gathered over ten strands of magical energy. He felt exhausted—and very hungry, having gone so long without eating. Just then, as if on cue, the world's ultimate supporting character reappeared: Dekisugi.
"How's the rest? You must be starving, right? I made some porridge for you. Here, eat it while it's hot!"
He lifted his thermal lunch box with a little flourish.
Harry tried sitting up. His body was still stiff and in pain, and even his mind felt unstable. Must've been aftereffects from taking over this body—he'd need time for his soul and body to fully sync.
He took the lunchbox and reached for the porridge with trembling fingers, but they shook uncontrollably from the frostbite and the imbalance between soul and body.
"If you don't mind, I can feed you," Dekisugi offered again, ever helpful. But Harry hesitated.
He'd lived for over twenty years, and in all that time, he'd never been spoon-fed—especially not by a nine-year-old kid.
"It's okay… I think feeding myself might help with my recovery."
In the end, Harry declined. He just couldn't bring himself to accept.
Plus, doing something—even small—seemed to help sync his soul and body a bit more. The connection was faint, but clearly improving.
Dekisugi didn't push him. Instead, he picked up his own portion and started eating.
After they finished their meal, Harry made small talk with him and casually asked how long until school started.
"A little over ten days, I think. Still worried about homework? Don't worry, you can apply for an exemption in your case."
Then Dekisugi stood up and said, "Alright, I've got to go help Gian and the others with baseball this afternoon. If I don't show up, Nobita's gonna get yelled at."
With that, he picked up his lunchbox and walked out. At the door, he turned and added, "Don't worry, I'll be back tonight to visit. Get some rest, okay?" He waved again and gently closed the door.
Once he was gone, Harry resumed magic training. Of the nearly five hours in the afternoon, he only managed to train for three before exhaustion knocked him out cold. He dozed off until around five in the evening, groggily waking up.
After two hours of rest, Harry still wasn't fully recharged, but it was enough. Dekisugi returned with dinner—once again, by himself.
After they ate, Harry asked, "Dekisugi, where are your parents?" It was something he'd been curious about for a while. As far as he remembered, Dekisugi's parents never really showed up in the original story.
"Oh, them? They usually get home pretty late, so I'm the only one who can come visit you."
Hearing this, Harry couldn't help but admire him. Studying deep into the night with no one pushing him—no wonder he'd end up working on Mars someday. With discipline like that, high achievement was only natural. But…
"Isn't it lonely, being by yourself?"
Dekisugi smiled and scratched his head. "Not really. Whenever I feel lonely, I just read a book. Oh! Speaking of which, I brought you one too, so you won't feel alone tonight." He pulled out a book and handed it to Harry.
Harry looked at the cover: The Hunchback of Notre-Dame. He stared for a moment. What kind of kid reads something that deep at this age? Shouldn't he be into 100,000 Whys or Andersen's Fairy Tales?
Wait a second… he looked at Dekisugi again.
Yeah. Maybe he really would.
(End of Chapter)