Failed Product
The blood pouring from Marie's stomach began to slow, then stop. Instinctively, I knew. About my ability. About what I could do.
More than the joy of awakening, all I felt was desperate urgency to save Marie. The bleeding had stopped, but I couldn't relax yet. This was just a stopgap. Unless I treated the root cause—Marie's wound—death was still inevitable.
Unable to leave her side, I waited anxiously for someone—anyone—to come quickly. Right on cue, a hero rushed toward us.
"Midnight called me. Where's the patient… gasp."
The woman in the white coat glanced at me, then Marie, and her face hardened as she grasped the dire situation. Her outfit and the fact that Midnight had summoned her suggested she was a healer. But with both Marie and me on the brink of death, she hesitated over who to save first.
"She's the patient. I'm using my ability to staunch the bleeding for now—please treat her quickly."
"What kind of ability?"
"I control blood to stop the hemorrhage. But she won't last much longer like this."
"I'll take over the healing now, so stop immediately. You'll die if you keep it up."
"I'm fine. This won't kill me."
I stubbornly held on, but with no time to waste, she began treatment at once. She placed her hand on Marie's stomach, and warm light flowed from her palm, seeping into the wound. It was just that—a simple glow—but the gaping hole in Marie's gut began to close, the injury knitting itself shut bit by bit. Healing power so miraculous it was hard to believe even watching it happen.
"Are you a hero? I don't recognize your face."
"No. I just awakened."
"Oh my. Congratulations. The Hero Association is always waiting for talented young people like you."
"Uh, sure."
"More importantly, what's your relationship with Marie? You were clinging to her so desperately."
"Is that relevant to the treatment?"
I was grateful for the healing, but exhausted as I was, her constant chatter grated on my nerves. I felt like I'd collapse if I let my focus slip even a little; I had no mental bandwidth for small talk.
"If you pass out now, you'll die. So talk to me. If you don't want to die."
"…"
I'd pegged her as clueless and tone-deaf, but she was deliberately keeping me conscious with conversation. I felt a twinge of guilt for misunderstanding.
"Who are you, anyway?"
"Hero Saint."
"Did you name yourself that?"
It felt a bit rude to say, but a hero name like Saint? This wasn't some medieval fantasy world. It was cringe.
"As if. I had a perfectly fine hero name, but people kept calling me Saint, so I had no choice but to change it. You think I'd pick this name willingly at almost thirty?"
I'd just now seen her face, but I knew of the hero Saint. She was a White Knight too. The undisputed weakest in combat. Yet she'd climbed to White Knight solely on her overwhelming healing prowess. Rumor had it she could heal any injury, as long as the patient wasn't already dead. When I first heard of a hero named Saint, I'd thought it was embarrassingly on-the-nose—turns out there was a story behind it.
"I can handle the rest alone now, so stop using your ability. I'll check you over as soon as I'm done."
"Got it."
As Saint said, Marie's complexion had improved dramatically compared to before. No one would believe she'd been on the verge of death moments ago. Only then did I release my ability and catch my breath.
My wounds were serious too, but my regeneration could handle them. The problem was the exhaustion from using the ability—it crashed over me in waves, threatening to drag me under.
Still, awakening an ability was a relief. It let me save Marie. I'd hoped for something to cover my lack of ranged attacks, but this was better than nothing. Even if it was just emergency first aid, being able to help others like this wasn't bad.
Marie saved, ability awakened. The situation didn't allow for pure celebration, but a sliver of mental leeway returned. With the anxiety easing, my eyes grew heavy. Just a little rest, that's all I wanted.
"Hey, if you fall asleep now, you'll die! If you've got nothing better to do, sing the national anthem or something!"
While Jeong Yuseong was busy luring the monsters, Seo Chaerim headed somewhere other than the hideout. The monsters, even in their frenzied state, didn't attack her, so she reached her destination without interference.
She hesitated briefly at the sight of people under assault midway but pressed on. She knew she could help with her ability, but eliminating the culprit behind this disaster would save more lives.
Countless monsters rampaged, united by a single emotion: excitement born of pain and fear. Emotional sharing. A phenomenon only she—who could share minds with monsters—could perceive. And since she shared emotions with monsters, she could trace it back to its source.
So Seo Chaerim headed straight for the origin.
She soon arrived at the suspected source and spotted a young boy who looked about elementary school age. He trembled violently, like he was having a seizure, eyes wild with manic excitement.
"Who are you?"
By now, she had a good guess even without asking, but she spoke to calm him.
"Ha. Haha. Hahahaha!! It was you! Should I call you Mother? Or Senior?"
"Calm down first. Deep breaths. I'll help you. So tell the monsters to stop."
"Why should I?"
"What?"
"Why… should… I?"
His eyes, meeting hers, gleamed with pure malice. A venomous hatred that cursed people, the world, everything.
"You know, don't you, sis? You've been through it. So why should I hold back? Why?"
She had no answer to his rage-fueled question. No one understood that emotion better than she did.
"Right? Tell me. Why can't I kill… please."
"I'll help you. Somehow, I'll make it right."
"Hee. Heehee… Too late. I'm not like you, sis. I'm a failed product. Can't control it at will."
"So it is you…"
His words—"failed product"—let it all click for Seo Chaerim. He was an experiment. After losing her, the Association had coveted her ability, using data from tests on her to create an artificial ability user. But the data was insufficient; the experiment succeeded incompletely. Today's catastrophe was the fallout of that flawed success.
"Truth is, sis, I hate you too. If you hadn't had that power… or if the Association hadn't caught you… none of this would have happened."
"…"
"So… die too, sis."
A massive sandworm-like monster erupted from the ground and lunged at Seo Chaerim. She'd never imagined a monster turning on her, so she couldn't react in time. She dodged late, but it bit off her right arm.
"Weird, right? It ignores my orders but shares my rage."
"Because that power isn't about commands."
"Doesn't it hurt, having your arm torn off?"
"Like I'd feel pain from this now."
Her arm was severed raggedly below the shoulder, nerves and muscle dangling, blood gushing. Yet she gripped the stump with her left hand, expression unchanged, voice flat.
"If you can't control them, I will. Stay put."
The failed boy couldn't command the monsters, but the original—Seo Chaerim—could. With them linked to his emotions, though, she needed to touch him to sever the connection.
"Can't let you do that. My revenge is just getting started."
"What are you—"
The sandworm that ate her arm burst from beneath the boy. Realizing his intent, Seo Chaerim shouted.
"Wait, stop!"
"Not scared of dying. Like you said, no fear left in me now. But going alone would be lonely—so I want as many to come along as possible."
Those were his last words. The sandworm's maw gaped wide and swallowed him whole. With the source of the monsters' link gone, even Seo Chaerim had no way to calm them.