Isn't This Practically a Terminal Diagnosis?

Isn't this practically a terminal diagnosis?

Following the doctor's recommendation, I went through a battery of detailed tests and finally received the results.

"Well... first, let me explain the patient's conditions. Albinism, sunlight allergy, Mediterranean anemia, Gitelman syndrome, epilepsy... and according to records from another hospital, you've already been diagnosed with insomnia, chronic fatigue, and mana insensitivity. Is there anything else you can recall?"

"Ah, no."

"Hmm... The silver lining is that none of these are immediately fatal. Though calling it a silver lining feels a bit hollow, because... we just got a new diagnostic machine that analyzes a patient's immune system and more. These are the indicators it produced."

"For now... the conditions that have already manifested will be difficult to cure outright, but with careful management, the symptoms can improve considerably. I'll prescribe the necessary medications and write you a prescription..."

"Understood..."

Once I confirmed that everyone had left the hospital room, I barely managed to hold my reeling mind together.

"No way... Even after reincarnating, how do I end up in a body like this...?"

In the novels I'd read, everyone else started with heaven-defying physiques or the eyes of a god—every good trait imaginable. Me? Instant sickly start.

If they were going to make me a slave, they could at least have given me a healthy body!

"Either make me a slave or trap me in a sickly body—pick one!"

If I were a slave with outstanding talent, I could at least earn recognition and find a way to survive. If I were sickly but born into a prestigious family, I'd receive the best medical care and rub shoulders with top-tier talents.

But a frail slave combo? Doesn't that seem a little much?

While I was in the middle of venting my frustration at the reality laid out before me, a strange sensation pricked at my nerves.

"Huh?"

At that moment, the sound of something hard tapping came from outside.

Wondering if someone was throwing rocks, I walked toward the window where the noise was coming from—and saw a pigeon pecking at the glass with its beak.

What the...?

Could it not see the glass because it was a bird?

I stood there watching the pigeon's odd behavior in puzzlement. The creature looked at me as if I were an idiot, then used its beak to fling a scrap of paper that had fallen on the floor toward the window.

"A note?"

Do the birds of this world write letters too? I thought, opening the window. The instant I did, the pigeon shot into the sky and vanished.

"What was that?"

It was far too strange to dismiss as coincidence. I stared at the note the pigeon had left behind.

This doesn't have some drug smeared on it or something, right? I've heard about new kinds of scams these days...

I was a little worried, but the fact that a pigeon had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠delivered a letter won out. Carefully, I unfolded it.

"A goddess...?"

So that woman who seemed like some North Korean spy was actually a goddess?

And she reincarnated me to take down something called the Demon King?

In this chaotic situation, I couldn't even decide whether to believe the letter or not.

"But if this is true..."

That so-called goddess dragged a living person into another world just to kill one Demon King?

Crumple—

I stopped reading and crushed the letter in my fist.

Amazingly, the moment I crumpled it, the letter dissolved into golden dust and scattered into the air—probably a measure to keep anyone else from reading it.

"Haha. Interesting."

Live long enough and you even get to experience something as ridiculous as otherworld reincarnation.

I'd thought being dragged into the military right after graduating college was more than enough of that kind of experience.

"Sure, fine. You can snatch a person if it's to protect your own world."

The military was the same, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wasn't it?

"But at least the military conscripts soldiers from within its own country. It doesn't go recruiting from foreign nations, you know?"

So, to summarize the current situation:

Some reactionary in China starts a revolution, and to stop it, they kidnap a guy from Korea and tell him to protect their country.

And the only weapon they hand him is a rusty old pistol.

Anyone who just lets that slide is a sucker.

"Well then. I've got a goal now."

The Demon King? I'll take care of that for you.

But killing a perfectly healthy person and locking him in a sickly body? That I cannot forgive.

"If you're going to use someone as a mercenary, you at least have to pay a commission fee."

Sending me back to my own country?

That's not a commission—that's the bare minimum you ought to do.

A proper commission fee is something that holds value for me.

"At the very least... I'll need to strip one whole country bare on the way out before the books balance."

After all, mercenaries were the sort who, when a nation's politics went to hell, staged a coup and seized the country for themselves.

Since I'd only gone to the hospital for simple exhaustion, there was no need to linger. Less than a day later I left and returned to the mansion, where I found Julia sitting on a garden chair waiting for me.

"Seo-hyuuuun! I'm soooorryyy!"

"Ah, young miss. I'm fine, so if you could just step back a little..."

"Seo-hyuuuuuuuun!"

Ugh, so loud...

Even though we had known each other for less than a day, Julia clung to me without pause, as if we'd been close forever.

Whether she was simply that sociable by nature or whether it was just me, I couldn't tell—but it didn't feel bad.

Having someone who liked me was...

After roughly soothing Julia, I went up to the second floor of the mansion, where a relatively calm-looking maid guided me to a room at the far end of the corridor.

When I first arrived at the mansion before the hospital, I'd had no time to unpack—I'd been forced to play with Julia instead—so this was my first time seeing my own room. For some reason, I felt a flicker of anticipation.

I opened the door and stepped inside. A clean, monochrome space greeted me, every corner painted in muted tones.

Whether by coincidence or not, it reminded me a little of the office I'd set up in my previous life, and a faint sense of familiarity settled over me.

"This will be your space."

"It's... really nice?"

"One of the Wittelsbach family's advantages. We have money. Though we also have a lot of work that needs doing."

"By the way, Nu— I mean, unnie, how did you end up working at this mansion? Did you come here as a slave like me?"

My words could easily have offended her, yet she showed no sign of it as she answered.

"No. I came to make money. Places that pay this well are hard to find. You could say I earn about as much as a big-company starting salary? And building connections is easy, so the competition is actually pretty fierce."

She explained that much, then checked her watch once.

"It's already ten. Get some sleep for today. I still have work left. You can use any bathroom except the one on the first floor, and meal times are six to seven in the morning, one to two in the afternoon, and seven to eight in the evening—just come to the kitchen then. If you have any other questions, ask."

I had nothing further I particularly needed to know, so I saw her out and examined the room more carefully.

About five pyeong in size, with a bed I could sleep in alone, a desk and chair that still had nothing arranged on them, and a small wardrobe built into the wall.

Nothing unnecessary—only what was needed. It suited my tastes perfectly.

There's just one inconvenient thing...

No computer.

The symbol of modern humanity—the all-purpose device designed to handle ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠every kind of work and administration—was nowhere to be found in this room.

I'll have to buy one myself.

The very first plan I made after coming to this world was to purchase a computer.

"What? A computer, you say?"

"Yes. There are all sorts of uses for it."

At my words, Ludwig seemed to ponder for a moment.

He was probably wondering whether it was appropriate to give electronic devices to a five-year-old.

"I'm not asking you to buy it for me. I'm asking whether I may install a computer in my room at my own expense."

It was vocabulary no five-year-old would ever use, but the only goal in front of me right now was a computer.

"...Is... that not allowed?"

I made my voice as tearful as possible while pleading for help. Ludwig finally sighed and pressed a hand to his forehead.

"Why do you want to buy a computer?"

"I'll need to use electronic accounts and the like, and there are far too many spatial constraints when it comes to earning extra money. I can't think of anything better."

"A five-year-old child talking about money..."

Ludwig wore the expression of a man whose common sense was crumbling as he watched behavior utterly unlike his own daughter's.

Frankly, that wasn't my problem. I simply sent him a look that said he only needed to tell me yes or no. Ludwig exhaled another sigh and accepted the request.

"No... Fine. There's no need to use your own money. I'll speak to the butler. It will be installed by the end of the day."

"R-Really?"

"However—if the computer causes any disruption to your duties, it will be confiscated immediately."

That much was only natural.

Being guaranteed a certain degree of freedom even as a slave was already a major achievement in itself.

"Of course, this isn't the end of it. Starting tomorrow, report to the head maid at seven in the morning. There will be additional work for you."

What kind of work?

I had plenty of questions, but right now what mattered more was the fact that I had secured a computer.

Mana? Innate abilities?

Plenty of concepts that hadn't existed in my previous life were more than enough to pique my interest—but the field that held my greatest fascination had always been hacking and programming.