[Seoul General Hospital – Sector 9 (Public Ward)] [The "Poverty" Wing]
There is a smell that only exists in the wards for the magically afflicted.
It's not just the usual hospital cocktail of bleach and depression. It smells like ozone and rotting meat. Like a thunderstorm that decided to die inside a closet.
I walked down the hallway, clutching a bouquet of wilted daisies I'd bought from a vending machine for 5,000 won.
[System: You bought the 50% off flowers? Really? You're walking into a hospital, not a gas station bathroom. +1 to Attribute 'Cheapskate'.]
"Shut up," I muttered under my breath, ignoring the weird looks from a passing nurse. "It's the thought that counts. Besides, daisies are resilient. They're like me."
[System: They are literally turning brown as we speak. That one on the left just decapitated itself. It's a bad omen, Ash.]
I flicked the headless flower into a trash can and kept walking.
I hated this place. Sector 9 was where they put the people who didn't have Guild insurance. The walls were peeling, the fluorescent lights buzzed like angry wasps, and the mana filters in the air vents hadn't been changed since the pre-war era.
I stopped in front of Room 304.
I took a deep breath. I fixed my collar, trying to hide the fact that my shirt still had a faint, rusty stain of goblin blood on the hem. I pasted a smile on my face—the fake, cheerful smile I'd perfected over five years.
"Showtime," I whispered.
I opened the door.
The room was small, cramped, and filled with the rhythmic beeping of machinery. In the center of the bed lay a woman who looked like she was made of cracked porcelain.
My mother, Hana.
Her skin was pale, almost translucent, except for the web of glowing blue veins that crept up her neck and arms. Mana Poisoning. It was a rich man's disease in a poor woman's body. Her system had absorbed too much ambient mana during the Great Cataclysm, and now her body was slowly crystallizing. Turning into living stone.
She was asleep. She was always asleep these days. The suppressants kept her in a chemically induced coma to stop the pain.
I walked over and placed the sad daisies in the empty vase.
"Hey, Mom," I said softly, pulling up a plastic chair. "Sorry I'm late. Traffic was a bitch. A Wyvern decided to nest on the Han River Bridge again."
She didn't answer. The machine just beeped. Beep... Beep... Beep.
"I got paid today," I continued, leaning back. "Big payday. Kang... uh, Kang gave me a bonus. Said I did a good job carrying the bags. Can you believe it? The old bastard actually smiled."
Lying to a comatose woman. That was a new low, even for me.
I reached out and gently held her hand. It was cold and hard, like touching marble. The crystallization had reached her knuckles.
[System: Scanning Target 'Hana'...] [Diagnosis: Mana Crystallization Syndrome (Stage 4).] [Prognosis: Terminal. Organ failure estimated in 86 days.]
The text box hovered over her face, cruel and clinical.
"Eighty-six days," I choked out. "Last week the doctor said six months."
The door opened behind me.
I turned to see Dr. Choi, a tired-looking man with dark circles under his eyes and a tablet that probably cost more than my kidney.
"Ah, Ash," Dr. Choi sighed, adjusting his glasses. "I didn't know you were here."
"Doctor," I stood up, wiping my eyes quickly. "She looks... worse. The blue lines are higher."
"We had to increase the dosage of the ether-suppressants," Choi said, not looking at me. He tapped his screen. "The ambient mana levels in the city rose yesterday due to that Dungeon Break in District 4. It accelerated her condition."
"Right," I nodded. "But the medicine works, right? It stops it?"
"It slows it down," Choi corrected. "Ash... we need to talk about the billing."
Here it comes. The second boss fight of the day.
"I have the money," I said quickly. "I just got my settlement. Four and a half million won. I can transfer it right now."
Dr. Choi looked uncomfortable. He scratched the back of his neck.
"Ash, the price of Ether-Suppressants went up this morning. The Red Viper Guild bought out the main pharmaceutical supplier. They hiked the price by 300%."
My stomach dropped. "Three hundred... percent?"
"The monthly treatment isn't three million anymore," Choi said quietly. "It's nine million. Per month."
Nine million.
I stared at him. The number echoed in my head. I had the Core in my pocket—worth fifteen million. That would cover... almost two months.
And then what?
Two months later, I'd be broke again. And in three months, she'd be dead.
"I... I see," I said, my voice sounding hollow. "I can pay half now. I'll get the rest next week. I promise."
"The hospital policy is strict, Ash. If you miss a payment, we have to move her to the hospice ward."
Hospice. The place where they unplug the machines and give you a morphine drip until you turn into a statue.
"I'll get the money," I said, my voice hardening. "Don't you dare move her. I'll get it."
Dr. Choi nodded sympathetically, but his eyes were cold. "You have until Friday."
He left.
I sank back into the chair. Friday. Three days.
"Nine million won," I laughed bitterly. "I might as well try to rob the National Bank."
[System: Or... you could actually cure her.]
I froze.
I looked at the blue window floating in the air.
"What did you say?"
[System: I said, you could cure her. Suppression is just putting a band-aid on a bullet hole. It's inefficient. It's stupid. I hate stupidity.]
"There is no cure for Mana Poisoning," I hissed. "The S-Rank Healers have tried. It's impossible to reverse the crystallization."
[System: Impossible for them. They use Mana to heal. Trying to cure Mana Poisoning with Mana is like trying to put out a fire with gasoline. You, however... you are the Wasted Potential. You are the Glitch.]
A new window popped up. GOLDEN text this time.
[Hidden Quest Generated: The Alchemist of Life] [Objective: Brew the 'Elixir of Reversal'.] [Ingredients Required:] 1. Core of an Undead Knight (Acquired) 2. Sun-Fire Lotus (Location: D-Rank Dungeon 'The Burning Garden') 3. Blood of a Regenerator (Troll or Hydra) [Reward: Elixir of Reversal x1, Level Up x2, Unlocking of 'Alchemy' Sub-System.] [Failure Penalty: Your mother becomes a very nice garden ornament.]
I stared at the screen.
"You're joking," I whispered. "You can really save her?"
[System: I am the System. I don't joke about loot tables. I only joke about your terrible haircut. Yes, it will work. The Undead Core provides the negative energy to neutralize the mana. The Sun-Fire Lotus burns away the crystals. The Troll Blood repairs the organs.]
I looked at my mother. Eighty-six days left. Or... a cure.
A D-Rank Dungeon.
I was an F-Rank Porter. Entering a D-Rank Dungeon without a party was suicide. Entering it with a party meant I'd have to share the loot, and nobody would let me take a Sun-Fire Lotus (worth 50 million won) for free.
I stood up. The chair scraped loudly against the floor.
"Friday," I said. "I have until Friday."
I looked at the wilted daisies. I grabbed the vase and threw the flowers into the trash.
"No more half-measures," I said.
I turned to leave the room.
"Mom, hang in there. I'm going to go shopping."
[System: Shopping? You have 4.5 million won. You can barely afford a happy meal in this economy.]
"I have the Core," I patted my pocket. "I need to sell it. But I can't sell it at the official Exchange. They'll ask questions. 'Where did an F-Rank get a C-Rank Core?' 'Why is he still alive?' 'Let's dissect him.'"
[System: So, we're going criminal? I love it. Breaking the law is the fastest way to gain XP.]
"I'm going to the Shadow Market," I said, stepping out into the hallway. "And I need a disguise. I can't go as Ash the Porter."
[System: Suggestion: Wear a mask. And maybe some pants that don't have holes in them. Presentation is key, darling.]
I walked out of the hospital, the automatic doors sliding open to reveal the grey, smoggy sky of Seoul.
The despair was gone. Replaced by a cold, sharp clarity.
I had a target. I had a method. And I had a System that was an asshole, but a useful asshole.
"Hey, System," I asked as I headed toward the subway. "If I allocate more points into Control... can I change the shape of my face? Like plastic surgery?"
[System: Theoretically? Yes. You can manipulate the muscle tension and bone density of your facial structure. But it hurts. A lot. Like, 'shoving your face into a blender' hurts.]
I grinned. "I've had a headache for five years. Bring it on."
[System: Initiating 'Face Sculpting' Protocol. Please find a public restroom so you don't scream in front of children.]
I headed for the nearest subway bathroom. It was time to die, Ash.
And it was time for someone else to be born.
[End of chapter 4]