A Loser Hero's Miracle and the Whale's Prize
A cramped goshiwon room without even a single window. Faint snoring from the next room filtered through the surrounding walls. Hero Nova—Lee Seoha—still wore an incredulous expression as she inspected her body over and over. Under the dim glow of the old bulb, her skin looked flawless. Just a few hours ago, that villain's brutish fist had shattered her bones. Her limbs had twisted in grotesque directions, her entire body smeared in blood she couldn't even tell was hers or someone else's. The horrific pain and the shadow of death crushing her had felt so vivid, lingering at her fingertips even now.
But her body now was pristine, as if it had never endured such tragedy from the start—no scars whatsoever.
'No way...'
No matter her superhuman regeneration as a physical enhancement user, for a mere B-rank like her to recover from fatal wounds in such a short time was impossible—even if the heavens and earth flipped. And even granting that miracle for her body, the tattered suit and smashed gear being restored to like-new condition utterly defied common sense.
"...It had to be that civilian, right?"
There was only one possible cause. When everyone else mocked and passed her by, he was the only one who stayed by her side, gazing at her with worried eyes. His face was a bit intimidating—honestly, scarier than the rampaging villain at the time—but recalling his voice calling her a hero made Seoha's heart pound wildly again.
She clutched her burning cheeks with both hands and plopped down on the creaky bed.
"I've... never heard words like that before."
—You are my hero.
Since starting her hero career, she'd only ever heard she was incompetent or a civilian faker. Those words had pierced straight to her heart's depths. That raw sincerity echoed relentlessly in her mind.
"I should've thanked him properly..."
Before she could even express her gratitude, before she regained her senses, the man had vanished. She should've at least asked his name, or gotten his contact...
Seoha pursed her lips in regret, then tightly hugged the worn-out pillow. Her soft murmur echoed in the narrow goshiwon room.
"...Will I see him again?"
She wanted to deliver those unspoken thanks this time, with a bright smile. The room was as cold and dark as ever, but tonight, the air somehow felt warm.
There's an old saying: daytime whispers are heard by birds, nighttime ones by rats. Literally, it means even the most secretive words can reach others' ears, so watch what you say. But for me, it meant something entirely different. To me, birds and rats weren't threats to beware—they were my most loyal, discreet informants.
"Caw! Caw!"
"Oh, really? Good job, Crow."
"Squeak, squeak! Squeak!"
"For real? Okay, Rat. Good work. Just a bit longer."
Resonance. One of the abilities I gained in this world. Less "communicate and get help from animals" and more "cheaply exploit them to the max." Thanks to it, I could station crows and rats around Nova without lifting a finger, steadily gathering intel.
Hero name: Nova. Real name: Lee Seoha, age 20, freshly adult. Current hero rank: B-rank. Ability: straightforward physical enhancement. Hero career: two years in. She'd earned prodigy buzz debuting young with her license, but then it all stalled. No notable achievements, growth plateaued. Now she was just another dime-a-dozen B-rank hero picked off the street—nothing more, nothing less.
Through my animal scouts, my cold assessment of Nova was... pathetic. If this world were a game instead of a novel, she'd be a 2-star at best—nah, 1-star fodder. Weaker than the tutorial handouts.
Every angle screamed mediocrity—that was Hero Nova in a nutshell.
"Damn, I didn't realize it was this bad."
No matter how I turned it, there was zero potential to exploit. My plan was to shove it to Tanaka-kun—that loathsome author—by turning the Korean character he despised, the early-game villain fodder Nova, into the triumphant protagonist. But we hadn't even started, and I was already stuck.
"Meow, meow."
"Nyang-i, even you think she's just average? Below average?"
Best case, unremarkable. Worst case, utterly unremarkable. How was I supposed to crown this girl protagonist?
The one oddity from my investigation: only one sibling, a little sister.
"Woof, woof!"
"...Yeah, Doggo. Still, she's a good kid."
Her sole sister was hospitalized. Doggo couldn't pinpoint why, but from days of watching, she was on super long-term stay—thick as thieves with the nurses.
Nova poured most of her meager hero pay into those bills, scraping by in this chicken-coop goshiwon just to breathe.
Heroes' families usually got hospital fee waivers, but she was an exception. Probably some rare disease or her low association rank leaving her in the benefits blind spot.
'Long-term like that means conventional medicine can't fix it.'
A low-rank hero. Risked her life for civilians, got cold jeers instead of warm encouragement. Only family bedridden, herself surviving on cup ramen in a shoebox room. A textbook recipe for a villain origin—twisted enough to snap.
"What a headache-inducing loser hero."
Yet recalling those idiotically upright eyes shining through the mess made my lips curl up.
"You guys think so too, right?"
"Caw!"
"Squeak!"
"Meow!"
"Woof!"
The speechless beasts voiced agreement in their own ways, resonating with my will.
Average? So what. Weak? Big deal. Countless novel protagonists started as humanity's weakest or quirkless wrecks. But they got protagonist buffs—miracle encounters—and grew. What, no buff 'cause she's not the protagonist? Screw that. Meeting me was already her miracle, her buff!
This was the novel world I'd devoured to the end. Fortuitous encounters littered the place. I'd snatch every one Tanaka-kun hoarded for his protag and pile them at Nova's feet.
"Kukuku! Nova, I'll make you the protagonist no matter what!"
And look forward to it, Tanaka-kun. I'll trash your story so bad you'll twist in rage and lose sleep!
Near Okinawa waters. I was sprawled flat on the deck of my chartered yacht.
"Ughhh..."
My groans sounded like a zombie's death rattle. Days without proper food—just puking—made me question if I was even human anymore. Whatever, it sucked.
Hell, I wished someone would knock me out. I'd resolved to make Nova the protagonist and flown straight to Okinawa. Our loser hero's instant power-up secret! The core fortune that let the original protag rampage villain-slaying! Knowing it lay at the blue seabed here, I'd launched the boat blindly...
"S-stomach... churning, urp! Bleeegh!"
Seasickness crushed even my novel knowledge. Every wave made my guts dance.
"Ugh... I can't last much longer. Find it quick, guys..."
I'd dry-heaved till even bile was gone. Days on the water already? Resonance-directed sea critter search, but the ocean was vast.
As my mind fogged and I eyed a suicidal dive, my desperate wish connected.
Pfoooo—!
A majestic cry, and a massive waterspout shot skyward.
"Ohhh...! Finally, Big Guy?!"
The signal hit; I snapped awake like death was a joke, bolting up. Churning guts hushed before this hype.
Gripping the rail, I peered down. There, an overwhelming humpback whale—Big Guy—flaunted his bulk on the blue surface.
Spotting me, he boomed a deep wooooong!—eyes asking if this was the prize.
Perched precariously on his broad back: a huge metal capsule. Barnacles and nameless seaweed from long submersion made it grotesque, but I knew instantly.
That was the fortune I'd hunted—the cradle from the future.
"Kuhehe! Finally! I found it!"
Elation at seizing the awaited fortune made me whoop, seasickness forgotten. My thrill resonated; Big Guy wooooonged! happily, slapping the surface with his massive fluke.
Problem: his excited thrashing tossed my tiny yacht like a leaf.
"Khehehehe! Finally... kheurp! Bleeeeegh!!"
Joy's laugh turned to wretched vomit in a second. Stormy nausea crashed back.
Twisted guts screamed, slamming me back to the deck.
"Ugaaah...! N-never sailing again, gueeegh!!"
Success's thrill and gut-wrenching heaves alternating like waves—purely me.