Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: The Value of a Superhuman.
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My head is spinning.
My face hurts like I got punched.
Even though I shuddered with stuffiness and wanted to stay asleep, I ended up opening my eyes because of the bright light piercing my eyelids along with someone's presence.
"You're awake!"
A bright woman's voice rang out.
Crimson hair that's hard for ordinary people to have.
Yet it suited her bold and vibrant aura perfectly, creating a unique presence unlike anyone else.
The type who's popular with both men and women.
"Sorry, I couldn't control my strength. I didn't mean to hit you that hard. Your hand felt softer than I thought..."
"...You're pretty."
"Huh?"
"Ah..."
I hurriedly covered my mouth.
What a blunder. Not even muttering to myself.
The woman blinked in surprise, then quickly shifted to a mischievous grin like a playful boy and tapped my forearm lightly.
"Aw, you're joking, right? Anyway, thanks!"
"Ugh...!"
It hurts.
It hurts a lot.
It was just a light tap, so why does it hurt this much?
It felt like a chunk of metal had slammed into me with its full weight.
If I'd come to my senses just a bit later, I definitely would've rolled off the bed.
"Roze. I clearly told you to apologize properly."
"Yeah. I did."
"You didn't cause any more trouble in the meantime?"
"Ahaha."
While my gaze was fixed on the woman called Roze, a man approached the bedside.
He was incredibly tall with sharp eyes.
Unlike the woman's uniform, his was a bit thicker-lined but gave a sense of uniformity, impeccably clean without a speck of dust, exuding an intimidating aura.
In simple terms, a perfectionist.
With natural movements, he straightened me out flat, tidied the bed, and then checked the display on the device attached to the bedside.
"Everything's normal. Vital signs are in stable range. They were dangerously high this morning."
"Really?"
"Yeah. With medical support, you should be back on your feet by tomorrow."
Did I almost die?
Come to think of it, the room looks like a hospital room.
Unlike the ones I know, it's adorned with futuristic devices everywhere, but it definitely seems like one.
Only then did it sink in.
'It wasn't a dream.'
I didn't want to accept as fact the experience of a intruder breaking into my solitary home, having an absurd conversation, and getting sucked into a book.
I can't deny it anymore.
Especially since the pain in my body right now feels too vivid.
I thought it was a serious injury that would take weeks to heal, but this man's words that I'd recover by tomorrow were unbelievable.
No.
If this is really that place, the world from my writing, then it's natural.
Around the 28th century AD.
About six centuries have passed since the space age began.
In other words, it's 800 years into the future from the world I lived in, so this is entirely possible.
Then who is this 'Roze'?
Judging by the uniforms, this is definitely the COH Academy—Cradle of Heroes Academy—where the United Humanity gathers and trains only the top talents.
'Just an extra.'
The world of my novel is vast.
Set in the space of a developed future world, it has a correspondingly large cast.
Even in the important Academy arc, there's no way I'd detailed every single character.
But even so, the name and appearance of 'Roze' felt familiar.
"Ah!"
I remembered.
She's referred to by countless nicknames like 'Blood Roze', 'The Cruel Queen', and so on.
And what precisely indicates Roze's position is the term 'Miracle Generation'.
It refers to the five holders of unbelievable, miraculous talents who appeared like a miracle in the darkest era, the United Humanity's final treasures.
The problem is that the time they're at the Academy is at least 25 years before the main story.
A time when the United Humanity's population dropped by over 30%, and living space shrank even more pathetically.
The protagonist has probably just been born, if that.
I need to check the exact time, but it's clear he's either newborn or around that age.
I couldn't stop my expression from darkening drastically.
Yeah, to chase dreams and hopes, intervening even an hour sooner makes sense.
But this is too much!
I can't go complain to a protagonist who's just been born.
"You're really okay?"
"There might be brain nerve damage. Don't forget he got hit by your fist. No one could come out unscathed."
"What?"
I looked at the man checking the hospital devices again.
If this woman is Roze, then that man is definitely 'Barton Stingray'.
The man called the 'Cold-Blooded Slaughterer', who massacred countless Aliens.
He has the complete opposite temperament to the fiery Roze, like two sides of a coin, but they surprisingly form a decent combo.
To see these two with my own eyes in person.
My heart is racing with excitement.
"Heart rate's up. Pituitary hormone secretion has increased."
"Is it serious?"
"We might need emergency medical support. The system's automated for emergency calls, so no need to worry, but alerting ahead isn't a bad idea."
"W-Wait..."
First, I need to stop this panic.
To prevent Barton from operating the medical device, I propped up my upper body and waved my hand.
Fortunately, they focused on me like model students.
"I'm fine."
"That's a relief!"
"Really? Personal judgment isn't a reliable standard for objective evaluation. Especially after taking a hit from such a barbaric fist... Khek!"
Hey, are you okay?
I swear I just heard something pop.
Roze is the strongest physical powerhouse among the Miracle Generation's five.
Finding someone unscathed after taking a sincere punch from Roze would be hard even searching the entire universe.
Ah, come to think of it, maybe I should worry about myself first.
Since I'm lying here, I must've sparred with Roze or something.
I'm worried.
Fortunately, Barton quickly straightened his posture.
His face was flushed red, probably enduring the pain with superhuman patience, and he showed slight tremors from sudden muscle contractions.
"Ignore this idiot. Anyway, glad you're okay. Get better soon, Lemon."
"Ahem, cough! Don't overlook even minor anomalies. For quick recovery, it's essential to heed the body's warning signals closely."
"Come on, out you go, ice block. Lemon needs rest now too."
They came like the wind and left like a storm.
As they left, the chaotic atmosphere settled completely.
My agitated mind calmed down even more.
Now it's time to check the most important thing.
I recalled the name they called me.
'Lemon.'
The chances this is my real name are slim.
It's probably a nickname or a shortened form of a longer name.
To find more clues, I looked around.
There wasn't anything notable within arm's reach.
Instead, right next to the door they exited, I spotted an Academy uniform hanging on the wall.
On the pocket near the chest, a name was embroidered in bright thread.
'Leonard Monarch'
Leonard Monarch.
Memories came flooding back.
Scenes flashed by like a film reel.
From the moment of birth up to losing consciousness from Roze's punch.
And at the same time, I understood why I ended up possessing this person called 'Lemon'.
He's dead.
The Lemon who sparred with Roze didn't almost die—he actually died.
In an Academy that emphasizes practical training, it's something that happens often, always.
Why wouldn't it?
The very purpose of the COH Academy is to produce superhumans who can effectively eliminate the enemy known as Aliens.
The United Humanity is fully aware of this and has no intention of just churning out strong but green rookies, so some sacrifices are an inevitable outcome.
But to me, it was shocking for a different reason.
'A character who exited stage left.'
In my writing, Lemon definitely died.
Who saved him?
The damn protagonist who pulled me from the story and shoved me here?
Or me, who suddenly intruded into Lemon's body—where the will to live was nearing zero due to complicated family issues—and revived it.
I don't know.
'Ah, whatever. What do I do now.'
It's bleak.
In this world, people die anytime, anywhere, and it's not strange.
I didn't intend for talents like the Miracle Generation—which even I called insane when setting them up—but Lemon is problematic.
He's not a complete extra.
He's an extra who died pathetically before the curtain even rose.
Of course, just getting into COH proves he's one of the United Humanity's top talents, a one-in-ten-million prodigy.
But it's ambiguous.
Being mediocre is worse than not existing at all, or so they say.
After graduating from here, where I end up is the battlefield.
Discharge? Doesn't exist.
Until you're crippled from injury or die of old age, it's a lifetime job.
You sign and swear an oath at enrollment.
On live broadcast with over 30% ratings, no less!
Ah, there's one exception.
'Until the Aliens are exterminated.'
One of the oath's phrases.
COH's founding purpose is, naturally, the Aliens.
Aliens are the only enemies; it doesn't interfere in any political conflicts.
Humanity, which was sharply divided and fracturing before the Aliens appeared, unified its interests, established the United Humanity, and spared no support or benefits in founding the COH Academy.
Thus, extermination of Aliens means discharge is possible.
But is that easy?
'Or a safe rear position... No, don't even think it.'
I imagined being stationed in a safe zone sucking honey, but it's impossible.
In the war against Aliens, superhumans are the most reliable and efficient option. The United Humanity doesn't waste such assets.
Decisively, nowhere in this world is truly safe.
Meaning, dying suddenly for any reason wouldn't be odd.
A sigh escaped me naturally.
How can I survive?
Only after ending up in this situation do I realize how shitty the story I wrote is.
'Come to think of it, what was this guy's ability?'
By Academy standards, Lemon is average.
His grades barely maintain mid-tier.
Yet, in 'physical limits'—one of the most important metrics for evaluating talent—he's borderline failing.
So what allowed Lemon into the Academy?
His ability.
The other power granted to humanity in the space age.
It was the biggest catalyst for internal division and conflict, but it also became the light protecting humanity against the Alien invasion.
Lemon's strength lies in this ability.
Abilities are broadly divided into two types.
Orthodox: Those who receive a planet's power and possess that planet's inherent ability.
Heterodox: Those who receive a planet's power but possess an entirely new ability, not the planet's inherent one.
Lemon is heterodox.
Among heterodox, he had a particularly unique ability.
'This guy totally misused it.'
Lemon's ability could be termed [Analysis] [Application].
It analyzes the body of a contacted Alien to extract information, then applies that extracted information to his own body.
But Lemon clearly failed to use it properly.
The source of the information currently applied to Lemon's body comes from a Mammoth, one of the representative land-exclusive entities.
As a charge-type, Mammoth has immense strength and extremely tough armor to break through the United Humanity's firepower net.
It especially has near-immunity to beam weapons, making it one of the trickiest entities to handle.
Lemon used his ability on such a Mammoth, elevating his failing physical body to mid-tier Academy performance.
However, his proficiency in handling the ability was so poor that he lost most of the information during application.
It was probably unavoidable.
In Lemon's life, he only used it once against a Mammoth.
And that was on a dead corpse, preserved for display with heavy anti-contamination treatments.
'There's potential.'
It's not a total bust.
If honed properly, it could become a joker card.
No matter what, it seems impossible to compete with the 'Miracle Generation', but being able to do something is what's important, right?
'That said, the Monarch family...'
There are more than one or two problems to solve.
No.
First, shouldn't I worry about surviving the Academy?
The current COH Academy, with its highest sparring mortality rate, is like a demon's den in itself.
I felt cold sweat trickling down my back.
The body, abused by Roze in the last spar, still ached to the bone, crying out in pain.
'For now, sleep.'
Sleep is best to shake off worries and regain peace.
I closed my eyes.
The fatigued body quickly settled my mind.
And that day, I had a nightmare of being chased by a monster embodying dreams and hopes.