Legends Never Die

After our team was named first place in Round 3, I stepped back from the stage and checked the new title I'd just received.

Undying…?

Recovery +50%. There was a title with a similar effect before, if I remembered right.

Thinking back, I'd gotten For Teamwork during the obstacle relay. Comparing For Teamwork with Undying, the former boosted stamina recovery speed by +20%, while the latter raised recovery by +50%.

An upgraded version, then?

Undying was definitely better than For Teamwork, which they'd handed out to just about anyone who showed up. Higher recovery was never a bad thing. I decided I'd sleep with it on from now on and equipped the title.

Undying. Reading it left a faintly strange feeling, but so what? As long as the effect was good, that was enough.

"Eh?"

I'd more or less accepted it and was hanging back listening to the Rose team's critiques when Yoo Min-seong made a weird noise. I turned and found his palm smeared with blood.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"What is this."

"Huh?"

He looked just as startled, staring only at his own hand, so I moved closer and looked. Had he hurt himself somewhere?

"Blood!"

"What? Blood?"

Min Ho-su had somehow already appeared at my side; his shrill scream made nearby heads turn. I hurriedly pulled Han Min-hyeok and Song A-seong in from either side to block the view. We were still on air.

Hidden behind the taller ones, I checked the audience — they didn't seem to have noticed the commotion — then took Yoo Min-seong and slipped behind the others. As we moved somewhere the lights barely reached, the hand I was holding fidgeted.

"Did you cut your palm? Does it hurt a lot?"

"No, it doesn't hurt at all…"

He tilted his head, looking bewildered, which only left me more confused. Song A-seong, who'd followed us, studied Min-seong's palm with a grave expression, then grabbed my shoulder hard.

"Hyung."

"Yeah? What is it?"

"Your waist…"

And the hand Song A-seong had pressed to my waist came away wet with blood. Huh.

"Is this your blood?"

Yoo Min-seong startled and started pawing at my damp clothes; I stopped him. The jacket was dark enough that blood wouldn't show, but underneath I was wearing a white shirt. I finished sizing up the situation in an instant. Apparently this dampness wasn't sweat — it was blood.

When did I get hurt?

If I was bleeding, I must have snagged something and torn the skin, but I had no memory of it. During the performance? After? On the way back up?

I was sifting through my memory when Song A-seong's face in front of me looked far too pale. Spooked by the blood, maybe.

"It doesn't hurt. Don't worry."

Fortunately the area was almost numb, so there was no pain. I said so honestly, telling him not to worry since it didn't hurt — and Song A-seong's already bloodless face twisted all at once.

Far from calming him down, I seemed only to have made him angrier. I quietly looked away and checked on Han Sang-jin, who was delivering his comments up front. This would be wrapping up soon.

"Shouldn't you get down and get treated ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠right away? When did you even get hurt?"

"It looks like it's about to end, so let's just go down quietly."

I reined in the fussing Yoo Min-seong for now. We stayed buried in the crowd until near the end, then stepped forward to bow and left the stage. Thankfully, with forty-two people up there, no one seemed to have noticed.

"Hyung, hurry to the infirmary."

"Is Min-seong's hand badly cut?"

But the moment we got offstage and hands started peeling off my jacket, the blood-soaked shirt was fully exposed.

"What the. What's wrong with him?"

"Is that blood?"

Through the rising murmur I looked at the jacket they'd taken off. There was a hole punched through it — torn by something sharp, by the look of it.

There were all kinds of structures below the stage; maybe I'd snagged something in the chaos without noticing. What about the waiting room? I'd seemed fine then…

It was my own wound, and yet I had no idea when I'd gotten it, and since it didn't hurt there was no sense of reality to it. Just a mild sense that this had gotten annoying.

With more eyes on me than expected, I turned with a troubled look and met Kwon Do-ha's gaze — his face set, without a trace of a smile.

"Hyung, just get to the infirmary first."

"A-seong, grab the jacket. This way."

A voice prodding from the side. Guided by the hand that took my shoulder to support me, I ignored the talk of ambulances and 119 rising through the noisy trainees and headed for the infirmary. And I really did end up in an ambulance.

"This is going to need stitches."

In the blink of an eye I was loaded into an ambulance with one of the infirmary staff and found myself sitting blankly in an ER chair while the doctor clicked his tongue.

It had torn through to the tissue underneath. Still, while it was a bit deep, the wound itself thankfully wasn't that large.

When he asked whether it had hurt, stabbed that deep, I gave an awkward smile and got a scolding for it. After the awkward smile I glanced away and counted through the schedule.

Until now, the dorm life had always ended along with each stage. This time, though, it ran straight through to the finals, so there was still additional filming at the dorm tomorrow.

I'd better hope that new title works well.

As it turned out, I was going to get a chance to test the effect right away.

After five stitches in the ER and instructions not to get the wound wet and to keep it well disinfected, we headed for the dorm.

And in the car heading back to the dorm on the outskirts of Gyeonggi Province, I sat in the passenger seat and glanced at the driver.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Ah… yes."

I was sitting next to the person who'd been introduced as my aunt. An aunt. I swallowed a sigh. In my previous life I hadn't even known she existed.

"I've been watching you well on TV."

Someone who carried a similar air to the mother I'd only seen in photos spoke slowly. She, at least, seemed to have known about me.

"I'm sorry for calling so suddenly."

I was a minor. We'd made it to the ER, but treatment required a guardian. I didn't know my father's number. I'd only gotten a phone recently to begin with.

Honestly, even if I'd known it, I probably wouldn't have called him.

Either way, I needed a guardian's consent, and while I was stuck I suddenly remembered the emergency contact saved in the drive file and tried calling it.

It was an unfamiliar voice, but the moment I gave my name the tone turned abruptly gentle. I explained the situation, and she came to the hospital herself.

It was the capital region, sure, but the location was awkward enough that getting there couldn't have been easy — yet my aunt showed no sign of annoyance at being dragged to an ER late at night. Only concern was plain in her eyes.

"No. Thank you for calling me. How are you feeling? Is it hard to move, or anything like that?"

She'd been badly startled that a nephew who'd never once contacted her had first called from an emergency room; she'd asked the same questions over and over since arriving less than an hour after the call.

Having been brought in with only the bleeding stopped, jacket off and white shirt still on, the bloodstains stood out. I must have looked pretty rough.

"I'm fine."

I nodded readily again. It was the same exchange we'd repeated the whole way to the ER. I had no idea how many times I'd said I was fine today alone.

She still looked unconvinced, but with nothing more to say she closed her mouth, and silence settled over the car again.

In that slightly uncomfortable quiet, my aunt carefully spoke up.

"Um, Han-hee. Would it be all right if I saved your number? There might be other times you need a guardian…"

My mother's younger sister. I didn't know exactly how many years apart they were, but she looked quite young — a late child, maybe — and she went on in a cautious voice. Come to think of it, this was the first call I'd made since getting the phone, so she wouldn't have had my number either.

"Yes. Thank you."

If she was willing to act as my guardian, I was grateful. It was something I'd already been fretting over. I was the one who should have been asking the favor, and yet the relieved smile on her face felt awkward.

My mother had been with me longer than I'd known, and she must have had some connection with my aunt as well — every time our eyes met during the treatment, I saw a lingering, tender expression like an afterimage.

"You're not having a hard time, are you?"

In the dark of the hour, the car had already arrived at the dorm and come to a smooth stop. The eyes that met mine carefully searched my face.

"No, I'm not."

I put on a smiling expression, and after holding my gaze for a while my aunt murmured softly.

"Right. I see."

For reasons I couldn't place, there was a careful quality in the way she treated me. With a gentle smile that said she had no intention of forcing unwanted involvement, she went on.

"If you ever need help, anytime. Contact me."

"Yes. Thank you."

As it happened, I suspected I'd need to call her again before long. Once the program ended there would be any number of things to handle, so I might even see her often. She seemed to read that much and smiled, satisfied.

"All right. Auntie is going to talk with this person, so you go in first and rest."

She nodded toward the staff member who'd come along to the ER and sat quietly in the back seat on the way, and waved me inside.

Leaving them behind, I stepped into the familiar dorm. Somehow I felt a little tired.

"Hyung! Are you okay?"

When I got back to the room, Song A-seong — already in comfortable clothes, as if he'd been waiting — rushed over at full speed.

The thought of why he was even here lasted only a second before my eyes locked onto his charm stat, which had shot up in the meantime.

With this successful stage, the charm that had been stuck at 89 had finally hit 90 — and because of his trait, it had rocketed straight to 92.

No wonder his face looked sharper than before. I checked the trait beside him.

A boost to charm and contest win rate. Right after Lee Jae-jin's, another broken hybrid trait had shown up.

A mix of I Can Feel the Aura and Competitive Spirit?

As expected, the Step Up versions came with a lot of broken traits. Just not for me. I was shaking my head when Min Ho-su, crouched on the living room floor, spoke up.

"Hyung. What did the doctor say? Did he say it was bad?"

"I just bled a bit — he said it wasn't that bad. Just take good care of it for about five days. Nothing serious."

Given the schedule, I needed to recover within the next five days and start preparing for the finals, so I'd framed it that way. It would be nice if an injury recovery ticket dropped in that window. They'd barely shown up again after the one I'd gotten, so maybe they were rarer than I'd thought. If I'd known, I would've saved that one.

"Five days? Whew, that's a relief. You bled so much I really freaked out."

"That's just because it was around the waist."

I patted Yoo Min-seong's shoulder as he spoke in relief, then went into the bathroom. I washed my face to take off the stage makeup and peeled off the bloodied shirt. Not being able to shower because water couldn't touch the wound was a little ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠inconvenient. It felt gross.

I wiped myself down with a damp towel and let out a long sigh. One wrong snag, and now everything was just a hassle.

"Hyung, hurry up and lie down!"

I finished roughly cleaning up and came out of the bathroom to find Woo Cheong-hee carefully arranging the bedding and urging me to sleep, his face full of earnest care. Cheong-hee was here too? I thanked him and got into bed. Come to think of it, I should probably report that I'd gone to the hospital.

"Um, thinking about it, I should probably tell them I went to the hospital…"

"Don't worry and just sleep."

Through my fading consciousness I heard something about them handling it, so please just sleep already, and decided to do just that. If I couldn't, tomorrow's me would deal with it.

The faint murmuring receded, and my consciousness sank under. It was a sleep like blacking out.