Chapter 8. My Survival Is What Matters, Who Cares About the Original?
Chapter 8. My Survival Is What Matters, Who Cares About the Original?
"Kggeeeeuk·····!"
Inside the pitch-black room right before dawn broke.
Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room, steam was billowing off my shirtless torso.
"Haa····· haa·····"
My entire body was already flooded with sweat.
Sweat trickling down my forehead hung dangling from the tip of my chin before dripping down onto my thighs and the floor.
'·····Ninety-nine out of a hundred.'
Unblocking the mana circuits, which had been torturing me for an entire week.
Now, only a single one remained—the thickest and most brutal bastard passing right next to my heart.
'Huu···· huu····'
Catching my breath, I overlapped both thumbs over the final blockage point displayed by Eye Opening.
'Here goes.'
Ududeuk- ududeudeuk-!
"Kggaaaa····· eup!!"
I ground my molars together to swallow the scream tearing out of me.
Because if a man's scream echoed out at dawn, the back-alley folks would break down the door to see what the hell was happening.
"Eu, eup·····"
As I endured the scream, my vision flashed pure white and my heart beat wildly as if it were trying to shatter my ribs.
And finally, I felt the sensation of the last dead, blackish knot unraveling smoothly under my thumbs.
Ttiring─!
[Thoracic center mana circuit unblocked. (100/100)]
[Full-body unblocking rate: 100%]
[All mana circuits have begun circulation.]
"F-Finally·····"
Still cross-legged, I looked up at the ceiling and exhaled a long, deep breath.
One week.
It was a time far too hellish to describe as merely seven days.
'Fuck····· that was fucking hard·····'
During the day, I had to knead my clients' bodies while casually acting like a blind man, and once night fell, I locked the door and began torturing my own body.
Every time I unblocked a circuit, a pain similar to when my optic nerve was pierced flared up again in my shoulders, down my spine, and through my thighs.
'····If it was just that, it wouldn't have been this exhausting.'
During the dawn hours when everyone was asleep, I pulled a hood over my head, snuck out of the house, and ran like a madman along the deserted path under the castle wall.
As the mana circuits opened, my body needed to become a vessel capable of handling it—that was my instinctive intuition as a physical therapist.
Because if only the engine gets upgraded while the chassis stays paper-thin, it might roll along well for a while, but it will eventually shatter into pieces.
'Fascinatingly, each time a circuit opened, my body grew impossibly lighter. Yesterday, I even ran back and forth to the end of the castle wall path without resting even once.'
A single misstep could have exposed to people that I wasn't blind, so even thinking back now, it was dizzying physical training.
"Now then····· shall I check?"
Staggering to my feet, I stood before the full-length mirror.
And whispered quietly.
"Eye Opening."
[Target Information]
Name: Ian
Age: 23
Affiliation: Roswell Territory Commoner
Physical Condition: Full-body mana circuit unblocking complete. Smooth mana circulation.
Current Psychological State: [Sense of Accomplishment] [Overwhelmed with Emotion] [Anticipation]
"·····Ha."
An amused chuckle broke out.
Weren't the circuits that were entirely clogged and dead-black just a week ago now breathing alive with a blue light?
Without a single blockage or break.
'This is my body·····?'
The sight of a hundred large and small streams of water relentlessly swirling through every corner of my body was as if a tiny Milky Way had been unleashed inside me.
Accelerating when inhaling, relaxing when exhaling····
Mana had already naturally become a part of my body, just like a heartbeat.
'Good. The fuel tank is fully filled.'
The problem was what came next.
'I don't have the engine to burn this fuel····· magic.'
Until now, I had merely crafted the vessel to accept magic.
The issue was that magic was an exclusive privilege that only disciples of the Magic Tower or talented children of noble families could learn.
In short, there was no master anywhere in this world who would teach magic to a back-alley blind therapist.
'However, there's exactly one way that doesn't require a master.'
Skill books, in which ancient magicians engraved their magic.
Magic books that imprinted magic straight into your mind just by reading them—truly cheat-level spellbooks.
And I am a reader who re-read this novel five times from start to finish.
'There is one····· and very close by at that.'
The Belmont Territory, located a three-hour carriage ride from the Roswell Territory.
Sleeping there is a hidden piece that remains untouched by anyone until the mid-point of the original story.
'The problem is····· that's the magic book "that person" is supposed to get in the original novel·····'
An important character appearing in the original novel.
That character, who later anchors a central pillar of the plot, happens to get their hands on that magic book and awakens.
'If I snatch it first····· the original story will get twisted, won't it?'
The protagonist's narrative will get tangled up, and nobody knows where that butterfly effect will bounce.
It also meant that all the "spoilers" I knew might become completely useless.
Do I protect the knowledge of the original work, my sole weapon as a possessor inside the novel?
Or do I kick the original work away for my immediate survival?
"·····"
So I deliberated for exactly three seconds.
'Ah screw it, who gives a damn whether the novel gets ruined or not?'
In the first place, I possessed a guy named "Ian" who didn't exist anywhere in the original work.
Besides, I didn't have the slightest intention of forming relationships with the characters who appeared in the original work in the future.
'My survival is what matters, who cares about the original story?'
Protagonist or whatever, whoever picks up the magic book first is the owner.
'Alright, it's decided. Soon, to the Belmont Territory·····'
Clenching both fists tight, just as I was mapping out the itinerary in my head, right then.
Ddok-ddok—
"·······!"
Every nerve in my body went on high alert at the sound of the knock.
'There's still a long time left before any reserved client is supposed to arrive?'
Hurriedly putting back on the top I had stripped off, I wiped my sweat-soaked face with my sleeve.
At the same time, I erased the focus from my pupils and overlaid my face with the vacant expression characteristic of a blind man.
"·····Please come in."
With a dalkak sound, the door opened, and the ttogak-ttogak sound of shoe heels slowly spread through the room.
"·······"
There wasn't even a greeting.
The sound of footsteps went straight in a circle around the room.
A presence sweeping over every corner, like a merchant who came to appraise merchandise.
"It's fairly····· neat."
Right from her first words, it was unabashed informal speech looking down on me.
Even though my eyes were aimed at the air, I could tell.
Judging by her voice, she was a woman in her mid-to-late thirties.
"Welcome."
At the lack of a response, while pretending to stare into thin air, I subtly took in the woman with the edge of my field of vision.
'·····What's with that beauty?'
A dazzling appearance that made my guess of mid-to-late thirties feel absurd.
Glossy black hair was elegantly pinned up, and below her snow-white nape, an expensive pearl necklace shone brilliantly.
Moreover, her languidly drooping eyes and red lips dripped with mature sensuality, and her skin was taut enough that one would believe it even if she insisted she was in her twenties.
"You're Ian, aren't you?"
"·····That is correct. But excuse me, whose referral brought you here?"
"Referral? Nonsense, I just came after hearing the rumors."
"Ah, is that so?"
"I twisted my ankle a bit, can you treat me?"
"Understood."
Without a reservation or anyone's referral, at this crack of dawn?
An uneasy feeling crept up, but no commoner existed in this world who could refuse a noble's request.
"Treatment clothes are prepared behind that partition over there. Please change and then sit on the edge of the bed."
After guiding her politely, I turned around and showed my back.
Even though I was a blind man who couldn't see anyway, turning my back while a client changed clothes...
It was a habit inherited from the original owner of this body, as well as a service to put clients at ease.
"I'm done. Come take a look."
"Yes. Then, excuse me—"
The moment I turned around like that.
"·······!!"
My heart almost leaped out of my throat.
Why?
Because the woman wasn't wearing the treatment clothes I had prepared.
"Is there some problem?"
A woman sitting leisurely on the bed with her legs crossed, stark naked without a single thread on her.
At the end of her smoothly crossed legs, her toes were swinging kkaddak-kkaddak as if keeping a rhythm.
'What the hell is this crazy bitch?!'
Chewing back the scream rising up to my throat, I carefully opened my mouth.
"Ah, no. May I know which ankle you twisted?"
"Hmm, rumors say you can figure out where a client hurts just by hearing their footsteps?"
Right now, that woman is sitting stark naked in front of a "blind" therapist who "can't see."
Therefore, the moment even a single eyebrow of mine twitched here, my neck would be bidding farewell to my body.
'Let me stay calm.'
With an innocent face that knew nothing, step by step I approached the bed.
"Haha····· Since it's early dawn, I suppose I'm not fully awake yet and couldn't figure it out."
"It's the right side."
Carefully kneeling in front of the bed, I wrapped my fingertips around her right ankle.
Then, beneath her skin as smooth as silk, a very minute swelling was felt.
'It's true she twisted it, but····· it's hardly swelling that warrants seeking out a physical therapist, isn't it?'
I felt a heap of doubts about this woman blooming inside me.
Tilting my head, pretending to stare into empty air, I stole a peek at the woman's face with the edge of my sight.
"·······!"
The woman's pupils glistened like a snake's, her gaze crawling over my face.
It was far too chilling to be called the eyes of a patient.
"Why are you doing that again?"
"Ah, it's nothing!"
The eyes of a predator drenched in thrill, looking down at a blind man prostrate beneath her feet.
Her toes moved playfully inside my palm with a 'kkaddak'.
"Ah····· now that I think about it, my greeting is late."
"·····I am Ian."
At my words, the woman slowly switched her crossed legs to the other side, hanging a relaxed smile on her lips.
"Chloe. I am Chloe Roswell. The mistress of this territory."