Health Center Life (1)

Three days later, at the Sector 4 Temporary Health Center.

A few military trucks rumbled past on the road, kicking up a hazy cloud of dust in their wake. I pinched my nose against the gritty wind and stood at the entrance to the health center.

Is this the place?

I double-checked the address.

Sector 4 Rear Temporary Health Center.

From afar, the distant murmur of crowds filtered faintly over the barrier walls.

The address was right, but...

That second assembly point was packed with people, but this place is dead quiet.

If my stepmom was right—that only those with counselor or therapist certifications had been drafted here—then maybe it wasn't so strange after all.

"Hoo."

I caught my breath and rolled the forged certification around in my pocket as I stepped forward.

A few days ago, my mother's voice echoed in my ears.

—Ji-un, don't worry about your sisters. The company setup got delayed because of this mess anyway. All I care about is you coming back safe. Got it?

The talisman and emergency cash she'd pressed into my hand... Mom had acted like she was sending her son off to war.

Though the sisters just snorted at it.

Still, their eyes had changed a lot compared to before.

This whole thing was like the state classifying me as "specialist personnel" and sending a separate draft notice. In other words, the government had basically certified that I wasn't a fraud but a real certified expert.

Of course, that made my bet with the sisters about bringing in a C-grade magical girl fizzle out too...

Eh, not a bad outcome.

Chae Yu-bin was already in my grasp anyway. Dragging her home after this would have an even more dramatic effect.

Yeah, as long as I handled this job right.

Alright, let's head in.

I steeled myself.

Kiiik—

The automatic doors slid open, and a cool rush of air hit me, carrying a strange mix of disinfectant and coffee scents.

I walked straight to the reception desk without hesitating. A weary-looking woman sat there.

"ID and draft notice."

She didn't even glance up from her monitor, just held out her hand. I handed over the certification.

Silence stretched for three seconds.

"...Jeong Ji-un. Grade 4 mana sensitivity psychological counselor. Confirmed. Head to the second floor."

"Thank you."

"Pick up your uniform and name badge there. Meal vouchers are two per day."

I swallowed a sigh of relief and turned away. Even knowing the fake cert would pass, the nerves were real.

State-certified counselor.

Now I was a real "sir."

My steps felt lighter climbing the stairs.

The second floor was even quieter than the first.

The space looked like a repurposed conference room, already filled with early arrivals claiming seats. People in casual clothes with lab coats thrown over them, just like me.

Mostly counselors.

I gave a light nod of greeting and set my bag down in a quiet corner spot.

Looking around, it wasn't all men. Over by the window, behind a partition, three or four women in white coats clustered together. Faint mana ripples shimmered around them.

Magical girls from the medical side?

Non-combat types handling rear support—healer specialists. I'd heard those with weak combat power or specialized healing got assigned back here.

Click, clack.

Then, the sharp sound of heels approached me.

"Are you the one who just arrived?"

A dry, low voice. I looked up to see a woman blocking my path.

"......"

For a moment, words failed me.

Blonde ponytail, voluptuous figure, but eyes hazy and lifeless like she hadn't slept in days.

Was she in charge here?

"...Ah, yes. Jeong Ji-un."

"Show me your certification."

She ignored my greeting and just stuck out her palm. I pulled the cert and draft notice from my pocket and handed them over. She snatched them, flipping through the pages rapidly.

"Counselor, grade 4."

"Yes, that's right."

"Follow me."

She tossed the papers back at my chest and walked off without looking back.

"This is the break room."

She gave me a tour of the second-floor facilities.

"Coffee, green tea, cup ramen—unlimited. Get caught stealing, and you're out."

"Got it."

"This is the lounge. For naps, but men aren't allowed. No misunderstandings—it's for magical girls only. And this is your station."

She stopped at a secluded partition corner. A desk, worn chair, and single monitor sat there forlornly.

"Job's simple. Patients pre-sorted downstairs come up; you counsel them, check status, assign a grade."

"Grade?"

"Mental corruption level. 6 down to 1. Grade 3 or higher goes to isolation ward; lower gets meds and sent back."

"Why start at 6?"

"...Weird question. It's F-grade."

She smacked the thick manual stacked on the desk.

"Criteria are all in here. No need to memorize—just follow it. They don't expect miracle cures from us anyway."

"......"

"Just pretend to listen, fake some empathy, stamp it good. Got it?"

Classic jaded civil servant vibe.

"Um, excuse me, your name...?"

"Lee Se-yeon."

She flipped her name badge irritably.

B-grade? Higher than expected. Weren't B-grades usually frontline?

"Any more ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠questions?"

"No, none."

"Then sit and read the manual. Patients aren't here yet."

Lee Se-yeon yawned widely and returned to her spot.

She crossed her legs, her skirt hem riding up her thigh to reveal smooth calves. Then she propped her legs on the desk and sank deep into her chairback.

"Haa... wanna smoke."

Her quiet mutter reached my ears.

I sat at my desk and opened the manual. The pages were dense with text, but it wasn't sinking in.

My eyes kept drifting past the partition to Lee Se-yeon's legs.

Dead-fish eyes, B-grade healer, and that body...

The eyes aside, it was a figure that'd draw crowds.

I didn't know the details, but she had a story. And a story meant an opening.

I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pulled out my smartphone, hiding it under the desk, and cautiously launched the Magical Care app.

She's definitely got a corruption desire.

If we'd be working together, better to check ahead—for both our sakes.

At my old level, scanning an active B-grade's corruption desire was impossible. I still couldn't check my sisters' even after reuniting.

But things were different now.

Thanks to Park Min-jeong, I guess.

A blessing in disguise? Digesting the overflowing poison qi from Park Min-jeong had finally unlocked the app's next stage.

The new system I'd gained: poison qi sampling. It absorbed a tiny bit of the target's poison qi to reveal the source corruption desire.

A bit underwhelming for a 'new feature,' but... if it lets me scan B-grades and up—A, even S—then it's game-changing.

It acted like a tollbooth.

Higher-grade magical girls had stronger poison qi, meaning greater pain as the price.

This wasn't "digestion"—it was raw intake, so the agony would be intense...

Tricking myself into it, but no choice but to time the digestion.

At least I could store the poison qi in my body.

Yeah.

Frontline magical girls were C-grade and up anyway. I'd encounter plenty of B-grades over the next few days—perfect time to test.

Hoo.

Done!

I'd deferred the pain to future me, but success—my first B-grade corruption desire scan!

With trembling hands, I checked the screen.

The analysis floating there was—

Eh?

Voyeurism?

I blinked in disbelief. That dead-eyed woman who looked like everything bored her?

I stole a glance past the partition.

Lee Se-yeon hadn't budged.

No sign of it at all...

Dunno the details, but gotta watch out.

One thing was clear: getting tangled with her would be exhausting.

She might turn into some creepy stalker if she got interested.

...Better just read the book. Stock up on painkillers later when I get the chance.

Time to plan for the backlash anyway.

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

I'm the type who listens to superiors.

With nothing else to do, I read the manual twice.

Bottom line: it was just a dense stack of paper.

She'd said no need to memorize. Agreed.

My role was fake listening, fake empathy, and slapping on an appropriate stamp. No need to bother memorizing.

Sweet gig.

Before coming, I'd dug deeper into magical beast season.

Gate precursors spotted three days ago, small waves hitting Sector 4 outskirts since last night.

Made sense the Association locked down half of Sector 4 and rushed these temp bases.

But.

It's quiet.

Too quiet. I'd expected a flood of patients on arrival; even the corridors barely had footsteps.

It was barely past 9 a.m., but patients didn't punch clocks.

Maybe because there are so many counselors here?

If this was a specialist counseling team, that changed things.

Magical girls' bodies weren't normal.

Gutted one day, healer pumps mana, back to running the next—monsters.

Physical injuries got handled at front-line aid tents; no need to drag 'em here.

Mental's different. Doesn't need instant fix, but pros in the rear for proper care.

Watching comrades get chomped or limbs severed was one thing; contacting magical beasts' corrupted mana was another.

Lost in thought, a chair scraped beyond the partition.

"Get ready."

Lee Se-yeon's dry voice.

"First transport's here."

Finally.

No sooner had she spoken than murmurs swelled from the corridor end.

In came the women.

All magical girls.

Every one a mess: blood-soaked frilly skirts, half-torn transformation outfits, dirt-caked hair.

No visible trauma, though. Limbs intact.

Just.

"Ugh... aaah...."

"No, I don't wanna go... Mom... Mommyyy...."

Eyes completely glazed.

Staring blankly into space or gnawing nails, curling into corners.

"Haa."

Lee Se-yeon sighed irritably, stood, and thudded over to the first magical girl in line.

"Name."

"......"

"Name. Now."

"Hic... I-I didn't do anything wrong... She... she started it...."

"Check her ID."

Lee Se-yeon beckoned a counselor behind her, then roughly grabbed the girl's chin and yanked it up.

"Pupils normal. No trauma. Mana levels stable."

She turned the girl's face this way and that like appraising an object, then dropped her indifferently.

"Just spooked. Grade 4."

"Pardon?"

"Meds and sleep her for three hours, then back to duty."

"Ah, yes sir!"

Starting with Lee Se-yeon, magical girls got assigned to us.

The one at the front of the line shuffled hesitantly toward me.

Mud-caked boots. White thigh-high stockings torn in places, revealing minor scratches.

C-grade magical girl. Badge read [Sector 4 Defense Force / 2nd Platoon Lee Ji-hyun]. She plopped into ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the chair by my desk.

"Name, please."

"L-Lee... Ji-hyun."

She whispered, gnawing her nails. Fingertips ragged.

"Symptoms?"

"I-it's... keeps... keeps seeing things."

"What things?"

"Magical beasts... dead ones... close my eyes and they stare... ugh...."

Her shoulders trembled.

"Can't sleep... food won't go down... just... wanna quit everything...."

Classic PTSD?

A normal counselor would build rapport here, empathize, probe for ten minutes at least to activate their mana circuit.

But I don't play that.

I could fake it, but...

Why bother with the hassle when I've got a better way?

I shifted my phone-holding hand under the desk, thumb-tapping the screen.

A short vibration.

Text popped up.

28%? Rookie numbers.

Even in "breakdown," this was just malingering to go home.

I typed into the Excel on my monitor.

"Lee Ji-hyun."

"Y-yes, yes... sir... I-I'm really bad, right? Need admission?"

She looked up hopefully. Please isolate me, pull me from the front—pleading eyes.

"No."

"Huh?"

"Simple fatigue buildup. Grade 5."

"Gr-grade 5...?"

"Yes. Third floor, sleep six hours, report back."

I slammed the stamp.

Thud!

"S-sir?! W-wait! I'm really sick! Hallucinations... hands shaking...!"

Lee Ji-hyun shot up, slamming the desk in outrage. I didn't flinch.

"All from sleep deprivation. Get a sedative from a therapist, crash hard, you'll be fine."

"But still...!"

"Next. Out."

At my firm tone, she flapped her mouth, then grabbed the script with a teary face and left.

"Tch... quack...?"

I ignored the grumble from her retreating back.

Quack?

Scientific data-backed diagnosis, thank you very much.