Awakener Jeong Jae-ha (1)

From the next day, I began rehabilitation.

"I'll put my faith in a miracle."

With those words, Medic Kim buried himself in every theory of rehabilitation he could find.

A month passed.

One heavy step.

"He did it! He did it!"

"Congratulations!"

"I can't believe that worked."

"Boss! Congratulations!"

I had done it — settled my weight onto the walker and taken a real step.

"Something happen today?"

"Athlete Jeong walked today!"

"What?"

The guards and inmates who knew me broke into cheers.

"Killed all those people, and now look at him thrashing to save his own skin."

"He should have reported it first. Deciding to settle the whole thing himself by swinging a sword — that alone ought to have gotten him thrown off the national team."

There was no shortage of sneering. I paid it no mind. Quietly, I only hoped. Hoped that one day they would go home and find tattooed pigs of gangsters beating their family, and turning next to beat them.

Three months passed.

Breath rasping, I planted a crutch and managed a step. At the thought that I might someday hold a sword again, my hands shook.

"Put the fencing on."

"Sorry?"

"Put it on. There's a tournament, isn't there? We get the sports channels in here, don't we?"

It was the first time I had looked up fencing footage since the day I was shot.

"Y-yes, yes!"

"Right away."

"Boss — you're going to watch fencing?"

The inmates who shared my cell stared in open shock, then snatched up the remote in a hurry.

"Huh?"

But it wasn't fencing.

"What is that?"

"Isn't that a gate?"

"A gate? What kind of weeb nonsense is that?"

The tournament wasn't on, either.

This, clearly, was not the moment for sports.

"Eh, the military will handle it, right? They're monsters, aren't they? Shoot them and it's over."

The inmates, of course, stayed perfectly calm. Bored as they were, they burst out laughing, as if they'd just been handed an amusing story.

"Yeah. Even I, who used to be called the World's Greatest Swordsman, went down in one shot when a bullet hit me. A monster's going to be any different?"

I thought the same.

I still believed it a few days later, when martial law was declared and the residents of northern Gyeonggi Province were evacuated.

Then, across the months that followed — by the time the government had abandoned Seoul, ten million refugees had spilled out of the capital region, and rationing was finally in force.

"This country's fucked, isn't it?"

Not one of us thought of it as an entertaining story anymore.

In the chaos, contact with Chae-ha was cut off. The worry nearly drove me mad. I tried to break out, dragging my ruined leg behind me, and they caught me.

"I understand. I'm losing my mind worrying about my own family."

"......"

"But with that leg you can't swim, so you can't even get off this island. All right. Say you somehow made it out. Then what? You going to walk all the way to Seoul? You know what state the country's in."

"......"

"I'll pretend I didn't see a thing, so don't think about anything else and just do your rehab. Right now, this is the safest place there is."

The warden sent me back to the infirmary.

In the end, my days didn't change. The gates and the demonic beasts had broken out across the capital region, and this was a prison on an island at the southernmost tip of the country.

"Good. Very good!"

A year passed. I could walk with one crutch now, instead of two.

News came that the front, which had been driven all the way down to Sejong, had pushed a little way back north. Letters ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from Chae-ha began to arrive again, few and far between.

"Put some strength into it! And straighten your back!"

Two years passed. I could walk with a cane instead of a crutch.

Word came that the pharmaceutical arm of the conglomerate that had once sponsored me had created a drug called the Awakening Drug.

Around then, a letter arrived: Chae-ha had been hired by Saetbyeol Guild. I had worried she might be struggling just to get by. I was truly relieved.

"Slowly, slowly. Let's try."

Three years passed. With nothing but a cane, I could walk almost no differently from an ordinary person.

The outside world seemed to be growing, little by little, used to gates and demonic beasts and hunters. Then one day, after several more months had passed—

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I made my way to the infirmary on my cane.

"I've been reassigned, as of tomorrow. It looks like I'll be going to a military hospital."

Medic Kim said it plainly.

"I'm truly glad I get to leave having seen you walk again, Athlete Jeong."

I closed my eyes, then opened them.

"It's thanks to you, Doctor. If I am ever able to hold a sword again, the first medal I win will be yours."

"It will be because you gave everything you had, Athlete Jeong."

He closed his eyes, then opened them.

"There was something I meant to tell you today."

"Yes."

"Are you familiar with a drug called the Awakening Drug?"

"I saw it on the news. The drug that turns anyone into an awakener and grants superhuman physical ability. That one?"

"You may be able to receive it."

"Pardon? I was under the impression it's so expensive people are sick with frustration at not being able to get a dose."

I couldn't believe my ears. Medic Kim began to explain.

"Even with version 1.0, the side effects were in fact extremely severe. The country's situation was simply so dire that they released it at once......"

Rebuilding the economy required an enormous quantity of mana stones, he said, but once people understood how dangerous a hunter's work was, they stopped wanting any part of it. The injection itself was dangerous, and so was the work, and applicants had plummeted. Everyone was already suffering, public opinion had turned ugly at the thought of feeding criminals on taxpayer money, and paroles had grown frequent.

"......So they're running clinical trials of 2.0. If the awakening succeeds, they say your prison term can be served out as hunter work instead. Will you volunteer?"

"How bad are the side effects, that people refuse to take it?"

"The nerves burn out. You become a complete wreck, I'm told. In severe cases, you die on the spot."

"And if it succeeds?"

"As you already know. Every physical ability improves dramatically, they say."

I listened to Medic Kim.

"They say the nerves can't endure the shock of the physical change that hits at the moment of awakening. But you were an athlete, weren't you, Athlete Jeong? Your nervous system ought to be far more developed than most people's, so the chance you'll awaken safely should be high."

"That stands to reason."

I closed my eyes and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠opened them once more. In truth, I already knew. The rehabilitation was going well, but only so far as daily life was concerned. Four years had passed, and I still couldn't run. Recovering enough to compete again was, for all practical purposes, impossible. And yet — every physical ability, improved by a dramatic leap.

There may be nothing more important than one's life. But there are things just as important.

If I could live again swinging a blade as freely as I once had, I would have staked myself on it a hundred times and more. If I could return to Chae-ha's side, a life was something I could stake again and again.

The procedures moved with startling speed. A week later, staff from the Awakener Association entered the prison together with researchers from Samjeong Pharmaceuticals and officials from the Ministry of Justice.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"I hope it goes well."

"Boss. Do you really have to do this? A friend of mine hunting outside says a lot of them die."

"If you're going to do it, then succeed. Weren't you an Olympic gold medalist? Skill like that, plus an awakening — you'll cut down everything in your path."

As I crossed the corridor on my cane, guards and inmates alike called out in support.

"You son of a bitch! Melt into sludge and die!"

"Out already, are you? A man who got ten years. Must be nice."

"You are not being released. This is only alternative service. Go swinging a blade around out there, and it may not end with a single bullet. Understood?"

I didn't so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠much as glance at the ones spitting jeers and venom.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes. I'm ready."

I lay on the infirmary bed and held out my forearm. A Samjeong employee opened a hard case and drew out a syringe of liquid glowing a faint blue.

Thuk.

The needle drove into my arm.

"Kh—!"

Liquid like burning water poured into me.

"Gaaaaaagh—!"

In an instant my back arched like a bow. It felt as if fencing blades were running me through, everywhere at once.

Crack. Crrack. Crack-crack-crack.

My arms and legs bent in directions they had no business bending. Muscle swelled from the inside out. My right leg hurt as if it were being seared over a flame. Which was to say — the pain still belonged to the realm of metaphor.

"Nnngh—!"

I clenched my teeth and endured.

Cr-rack.

My right leg straightened completely.

"Ah."

In that instant the pain vanished altogether. A ringing stayed in my ears, but this much I could call bearable. No — more than bearable. Strength seemed to brim through my body.

"—! —!"

"——!"

The Association staff and the Samjeong employees were shouting something.

I braced one hand against the bed and tried to push myself up.

BOOM.

"Huh?!"

And just like that I flew into the opposite wall, slammed into it, and dropped.

Shards of the prison's concrete pattered down over me. Where I had struck, the wall was crazed with spiderweb cracks. Insane. I stared at it, blank. If a staffer had been standing in that space, it would have been a disaster.

"......Athlete Jeong!"

Guards, Samjeong staff, Association staff — every one of them threw both hands up, gesturing for me to calm down. I rose very, very slowly, the way I had taken that first step back in rehabilitation. I nearly misjudged my strength and shot ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠forward like a cannonball all over again, but somehow I set one foot down. Another two or three steps, and I began to get a feel for how the power had to be controlled.

"Ah — hahahaha!"

The laugh tore out of me. It might have been a sob. Five years. For the first time in five years, I took a step on nothing at all. I couldn't hold the excitement down. I hurled that damned cane aside and threw myself at the infirmary door.

"Athlete Jeong!"

"G-grab him!"

"No. Leave him. You know how badly he's wanted to run."

Right now I couldn't hear a word from anyone. The long corridor opened in front of me. I drove a lunge into the floor.

BOOM.

My body lifted low and shot forward.

"Huh?"

When I looked back, the concrete was gouged in the shape of my foot, and scraps of torn shoe lay scattered across it. I had to have launched thirty meters at the least.

"Ha — hahaha!"

I had once been an elite among elite athletes, so I understood better than anyone how outrageous this was. The Olympic long-jump record, as I knew it, didn't even reach nine meters. A mark set by the pinnacle of humankind, concentrating on nothing but jumping far — and I had blown past it with a single light advancing step. Power flooded my whole body.

Pat. Pat-pat-pat.

I worked my feet as if I meant to stamp out every step I hadn't been able to plant in the last three years. Short advances and retreats, over and over; diagonal steps braided with attacking steps, moving in full dimension. In the middle of repeating it—

"Huh?"

Lurch.

The strength ran out of my right leg again.

"Athlete Jeong!?"

"Mr. Jeong Jae-ha!"

I tumbled across the floor, a disgraceful mess. What was this?

"The awakening itself was a success. However......"

"However?"

"Neural activity in the right leg is markedly lower than in the left. Maintain ultra-high-speed movement like that for more than five minutes, and the nerves appear to overheat until the motor signals cut out."

I was carried back to the infirmary. The Samjeong Pharmaceuticals research team began a precise examination at once.

"Didn't you say every injury and disability I already had would be restored, and my physical ability improved across the board?"

"It cannot be said that it wasn't. Even now, by an ordinary person's standards, you are exerting a more than sufficiently enhanced physique."

It felt as if the sky had fallen in on me all over again.

"You see, the effect of the Awakening Drug is a kind of multiplication. Let us say it takes the strength, the durability, and the reflexes you possess, and multiplies them all by ten."

"Yes."

"But a great deal of the nerve in your right leg is dead, Athlete Jeong. So even after being multiplied by ten, it doesn't balance with the left."

"......"

"If before it was 5 and 50, now, shall we say, it is 50 and 500. The ratio is unchanged, but the absolute gap itself has grown."

I nearly vomited where I stood. At the same time, a thread of relief ran through me. If I hadn't clenched my teeth and ground through the rehabilitation, the problem would have been far worse. Follow that same analogy, and it wouldn't have been something like 50 and 500 — it would have been 0.5 and 500, and I would have been left truly unable to do anything at all.

"Even so, looking at these figures, the recovery itself should occur. Your regenerative ability has risen considerably as well. At this rate, both legs ought to balance within ten years."

"Ten years?"

"Ah — of course there are ways to recover faster. Fortunately, there is no shortage of precedent on that side."

"What is it?"

"You need only slay demonic beasts."