Hospital Awakening and Teammate's Loss
Nam Gyuil lay in a bed in the four-person ward, blinking his eyes repeatedly. The stark white ceiling of the hospital room filled his vision. A doctor entered through the door, checked his condition, and asked a question.
"Are you with us?"
"Yes."
Right after regaining consciousness, his vision was slightly blurry. The doctor's face appeared to split into two, then three, but as time passed, his focus gradually sharpened.
"Sir, can you see my hand? How many fingers am I holding up?"
"Three."
The doctor let out a sigh of relief. "Good, your consciousness has fully returned."
"Yes."
"Your wounds are severe, so movement will be difficult. Focus on recovery for at least a month."
The doctor repeatedly emphasized to press the nurse call button if anything happened, then left the room. Turning his head to look around, Nam Gyuil saw critically ill patients lying unconscious in their beds. It seemed this room was reserved for those without awareness.
Soon after, his family arrived at the hospital.
"Hyung-!!"
"Aigoo, Gyuil! What on earth happened?"
His parents and younger brother teared up in front of him. Seeing Nam Gyuil, who had been perfectly fine just yesterday, now hospitalized, their hearts shattered.
"My son might die like this."
"Hyung, you okay?! Do you recognize me? It's Seonu."
His mother clutched his hand and wept. His brother bowed his head, frustratedly brushing back his bangs. His father was too overcome with grief to speak.
Nam Gyuil looked at his brother and deliberately raised his voice to sound fine. "Hey, I'm okay. Still too spry to die."
The atmosphere wouldn't allow reassurances, so he tossed in a joke instead. But despite his words, his body ached all over.
His brother was dumbfounded. "Seriously? Joking around in that state? You almost died, hyung."
"Doc said just rest a month and I'll be good. No permanent damage, so quit freaking out."
That's what Nam Gyuil said. His brother bit his lower lip, then raised his voice. "Hyung, just stay hospitalized for four months straight. That'll fill your service term and get you discharged."
"Seonu."
"What?"
"Law changed. Hospital stay now extends your mandatory service."
The Hunter Agency extended national hunters' terms with all sorts of excuses to keep them as long as possible. Naturally, this sparked massive backlash. To quell it, they offered a perk: items or monster byproducts from gates would be recognized as personal property. In the end, service time kept accruing during hospitalization.
Nam Gyuil's expression remained impassive. His brother, face flushed red, yelled in fury. "Damn it, even the military counts hospital time toward service. Why don't national hunters get that?!"
His brother's fists trembled. Nam Gyuil beckoned him closer. The doctor had said movement would be hard, but thanks to his trip to the Akashic Records, his recovery felt strangely swift. Any other awakener couldn't have twitched a finger. Of course, every motion still hurt like hell, but he was grateful even for that.
His brother approached. "What?"
"Quiet. Got something to say."
His brother leaned his ear to Nam Gyuil's mouth. Nam Gyuil whispered softly. "Go buy what I tell you from now."
"...Huh?"
"Ginseng, galan, mandrake, pomegranate."
"??"
His brother stared blankly. Like, why the hell those?
"Hurry up and get them!"
Urged loudly, his brother dashed out of the room. The items Nam Gyuil requested were ingredients for crafting an elixir. Knowledge from the Akashic Records. He planned to use it to make one.
Ginseng and pomegranate were earthly ingredients, but galan and mandrake were not. In the early gate crisis, humanity starved. Monsters raided farms, making it impossible for farmers to even plant rice seedlings. A botanist studying gate plants discovered humans could eat galan and mandrake. High in carbs, they matured in a month. Humanity barely averted famine.
Nam Gyuil recalled Akashic knowledge. Right now, I can only make a low-grade elixir. Weak, but it heals and grows mana—perfect for me.
Of course, just swallowing it wasn't enough. He needed mana cultivation to activate it.
Earth has mana cultivation methods, but I didn't know they were wrong until the Akashic Records. Earth's way is flawed.
Earth failed in many fields. World-class scientists once tried crafting elixirs and all failed.
This low-grade one only works initially; effects diminish later.
Later, he'd make higher-grade ones. Though they'd require heaps of powerful monster inner cores.
Think on that later.
For now, priority was low-grade elixir for quick recovery. He gazed out the window. Countless national hunters must be rolling in sewer-like gates with monsters right now.
Sadly, casualties too.
But he couldn't share Akashic knowledge recklessly. The gates brought chaos, yet some fattened themselves on evil deeds. Caution was key. In wrong hands, it could worsen everything.
Once I'm strong enough...
Only then could he share without issue, no matter what others did. Plus, not all awakeners were in the Hunter Agency or guilds.
Criminals exist.
Deserters hating service. Veterans turning criminal from resentment. Understandable, but still dangerous. Worst case: kidnapped by them, letting villains monopolize dimensional knowledge.
So first, I get strong.
Nam Gyuil set his first goal.
Soon, his brother returned with the low-grade elixir ingredients. "Hyung. Got 'em."
Nam Gyuil eyed him. "Don't tell anyone I told you to buy this."
"Why?"
"Reasons."
"Got it."
His brother nodded. Nam Gyuil kept the low-grade elixir ingredients secret to prevent Akashic leaks. His brother always obeyed him unquestioningly.
At 14, monsters hit their neighborhood. Parents at work, just him and brother home. He chose hiding over fleeing—kids couldn't outrun them. Saved, while runners became corpses. Since, brother followed him blindly. He'd keep this promise too.
Nam Gyuil continued to his brother. "Leave me alone. Take Mom and Dad for a walk."
"What? Why?"
"Just do as I say!"
"...Fine."
His brother eyed him worriedly—hiding pain to spare parents, probably. Decided to give him space. Brother led family out briefly.
Nam Gyuil scanned around. Only unconscious patients, but he drew the bed curtain anyway.
This should hide it.
He turned left. Bedside shelf had a coffee pot and paper cups.
Time to craft the elixir.
He mixed ingredients by Akashic ratios into the pot, added water. Click. Turned on, it bubbled, decocting them.
Drip. Finally, poured the finished elixir into a paper cup. Crimson liquid. Sour scent wafted.
Nam Gyuil blew on it, sipped slowly. Tasted better than expected—like thick ginseng tea, slightly bitter after.
Then, deep breath. "Huuuup."
Entered mana cultivation to draw out the elixir. Not Earth's flawed way, but Arnia's correct method.
Post-gates, mana permeated the air. Absorbed via breath. Earth's method just stimulated muscles lightly—like breathing muscle training.
Arnia's was a dimension higher. Captured inhaled mana at the heart. Required massive mana influx at once. Earth's atmospheric mana was still too sparse.
Nam Gyuil solved it with low-grade elixir.
Thump-thump-thump. Heart pounded wildly. Mana pooled, heart stimulated intensely. Felt like a vortex in his chest. Torrent surged. Absorbed mana purified.
"Huuuup."
Breath in again. Heart calmed. Suddenly, heat surged. Cold sweat beaded, senses sharpened.
Drip. Sweat from forehead gathered at jawline. Heat faded gently. Sweat-soaked body felt cool.
Nam Gyuil clenched and opened his hand. Rolled shoulders, checked body.
No pain.
Body that ached at slightest move felt better. Especially mana—much stronger.
Pure mana from heart circulated stronger than before. Wounds eased too. Not a month—one week enough.
Great. Daily low-grade elixirs for a week, focus recovery.
Nam Gyuil's lips curved up.
A week passed. The doctor reviewed charts and Nam Gyuil's condition, face incredulous. "Heh."
A dry chuckle escaped. On admission: severe thoracic/abdominal stab wounds—three sites. Visible bleeding, acute hemorrhage in bloodwork. Comatose. Needed a month bedridden.
"A miracle."
Slow recovery could've meant two months. Hence, "miracle."
Nam Gyuil healed in a week via elixir and cultivation. No one knew.
"Discharge tomorrow. You've been through a lot."
"Yes, thank you."
Doctor issued full recovery, approved discharge. Nam Gyuil nodded.
Alone post-doctor, he lay staring out window. What knowledge next to grow strong?
Organizing thoughts, someone knocked. Knock-knock.
Teammates visited.
"Gyuil hyung, you okay?"
"Heard you're conscious—how's the body?"
Nam Gyuil slowly turned, eyed them. National hunters drafted post-military, all sergeant rank. Promoted staff sergeant on discharge; during service, brothers.
Same rank, but eldest Nam Gyuil led as team leader.
Teammates asked. "Hyung, what'd doc say?"
"Discharge tomorrow. What'd you bring?"
"Apples."
"Hey, get melons for visits."
"Just sit up, we'll buy anything."
Nam Gyuil munched knife-cut apple, glanced around. "Where's Dongseon? I got hurt saving that punk."
Teammates' faces darkened. Shadowed grief.
"What?"
Nam Gyuil probed the mood; they hesitated. One finally spoke. "Hyung. Dongseon died."
Shock froze him. Teammates continued.
"Funeral yesterday."
"While you were here, gate in Gyeonggi... happened."
"Other rookies crippled, medically discharged. Replacement for Dongseon coming tonight."
Nam Gyuil's brow twitched. Rookie injuries shocking, but Dongseon's death hit harder.
He's gone too.
He closed eyes slowly. Smoked with Dongseon, swapped dumb jokes. Thought he'd last long, discharge alive.
Dongseon, who'm I gonna smoke with now?
Grief choked words.
"Hyung, you survive and discharge."
"You're the strongest."
Teammates left after chats, urging survival.
Now alone. Silence lingered.
Appetite gone, he set apple aside. Sigh escaped.
Need to get stronger faster.
Chin-propped, his eyes burned with resolve.
No more deaths in my 01 Team.