It Started to Crack.
The undertaker's name was Jeff. And the Brock Lesnar lookalike who'd been gushing blood from his wrist went by Ollie.
A close look at Ollie's wound was a relief—no transfusion needed. From what they said, the blood soaking his clothes wasn't even his; it'd gotten on him while chopping chicken necks.
What kind of people chop off chicken necks themselves...? At least it didn't hit an artery.
Eyeballing it, Ollie weighed around 110kg. That meant his blood volume was roughly 9.2 liters. Blood was mostly water, after all. Humans got dizzy from just a 1% loss, and over 5% led to serious dehydration. The blood on his clothes looked like at least a liter—nearly 11% blood loss. He wouldn't be standing there fine if it were his.
At 11%, the kidneys fail. 15-20% and you're dead.
"Hmmm..."
Surgery done, Ollie eyed the 15cm stitched gash with sharp, flickering glances.
"Sewing up human skin like knitting? Wild."
"Hahaha! Good thing, kid! We'd barely peeked at this dungeon before nearly losing an arm!"
"Heh heh heh, yeah."
My head was spinning. Not just from these bruisers barging into my hospital out of nowhere.
Where the hell am I...? Some isekai transfer?
The alien scenery outside, that mysterious language with its eerie familiarity, their shady behavior and chatter. Piecing it together, the reality of my isekai shift was sinking in.
Problem was, the more these self-proclaimed adventurers talked, the less I grasped about this world.
"Hey, mage dude."
"Mage? I'm a doctor."
Jeff and Ollie had called me a mage nonstop before surgery. No clue why.
"Haha, right, doctor dude. So, surgery cost?"
Isekai'd or not, no insurance here, obviously. Not my specialty, but uninsured, a suture like this ran about 100,000 won back home.
But that's not the issue. I don't know local rates.
I racked my brain, then decided on honesty. My damn reality: transferred from another world.
"Actually, I'm..."
* * *
"Thanks, bro! We're out!"
"Catch ya later, bro! Oh, stitches out when?"
"Two weeks."
"Got it! Bye, bro!"
"...Come back anytime."
Jeff and Ollie—faces weathered between their late thirties and forties—looked like battle-hardened heroes. But surprisingly young: Jeff was 21, Ollie 20 in local years.
Ten, eleven years younger than me...
Hadn't met other locals yet. But odds were, they aged like these two. Better brace myself—no more gawking at faces.
"At least the first guys weren't assholes."
Nice didn't mean smart, though. They were dim as bricks, fitting their brawler looks. I gave up repeating the "other world" bit and dumbed it down: transferred via East Continent magic.
No point overexplaining to thick skulls. Hospitals here are 'magic towers'? Doctors are 'mages'? Ridiculous.
Even hearing it firsthand, I couldn't buy it. Shaking my head in denial, I inspected the local coins Ollie paid with.
"Pure gold..."
Currency: copper, silver, gold. Self-explanatory: copper, silver, gold. Universal metal value, even on Earth.
"1 silver = 10 copper, so 1 gold = 10 silver or 100 copper?"
Basic meal: 5-7 copper. Beer: 2-3 copper. Fancy dinner: 1-2 silver.
1 copper ~1,000 won, silver ~10,000, gold ~100,000. Easy.
I never forgot money-makers. Copper density: 8.96g/cm³. Silver: 10.49g. Gold: 19.32g. Copper lightest, gold heaviest. Coins: copper biggest, silver like 500-won, gold like 100-won.
Scale check: 1 copper 15.23g, silver 12.88g, gold 8.226g. Opposite of Korea's pricey-yet-small bills.
"Perfect. Pure gold's the best part... Huh? What's with the lights?"
Sitting in the first-floor cafe, coins spread on the table. Ceiling lights flickered like a seizure, then blackout.
"No way... Power out again? This shouldn't happen."
Hospitals needed voltage restore in 10 seconds on outage, plus UPS for data. But I'd specced solar from day one—no grid reliance. Black solar panels gleamed on the 11-story facade like obsidian. Isekai or not, second outage made no sense.
Check now. Power's everything.
People meant water, food for cash. No power? Game over. No surgeries, no money.
Tak-tak—
Emergency stairs to B5F. B1: staff lounge. B2-4: parking. B5: boilers, tanks, solar controls.
"Wha—what's that stain?!"
White epoxy floor like marble. Spots caught my eye; I held my breath.
Blood?
Heart pounding like it’d burst. Past the emergency door, fresh crimson footprints.
Gulp—
Throat dry, breath ragged. Traced the trail to the solar controller.
What happened...?
But the scene froze me. Controller pulled power from rooftop panels, distributed floors.
"...Huh?"
Blood puddle before the metal panel. Inside: glowing golden oval, like an ostrich egg. Sucking power? Spitting plasma sparks like a Tesla coil.
Hard to tell if absorbing or emitting. But that egg was the culprit—no doubt.
Awe and dread mixed. Snapped to, scanned for intruder via footprints.
No prints. Then...
Shh—shh—
Quiet steps to B1 lounge.
"Damn it! No idea where it came from, but it's wrecking my generator! Gotta smash it!"
Squatter egg in my basement? Death sentence.
Gloves, boots from storage/sink. Grabbed leftover 2x4 from parking corner. Crept back to B5.
Power or no? Crippled my practice. No power? Broke.
Good I caught it early. Calm down.
Urgent, but cautious. Isekai—monsters? Egg-thing could be beast.
Deep breaths calmed my heart. Farmer-swing: hoisted timber high, smashed down.
Tik—
Roll—
Full force, pathetic echo. Egg bounced low like ping-pong, rolled my way.
No more plasma from controller—just hum. Relief. Legs buckled; plop.
Splash—
"Ugh, gross!"
Blood pool under me. Jumped up, sticky dread.
"Wait... not staining?"
Viscous crimson, metallic tang—yet slid off pants like mercury, pooling back.
"What the...?"
Curiosity over ick. Isekai: weird expected since 'magic tower' talk.
Didn't think this soon.
But just another oddity. Shake it off.
"Later. Check generator first. Deal with egg."
Brushed red from pants, stomped to egg. Hoisted timber, hammered repeatedly.
"Die, thief spawn! Die! Break!"
Tik! Tik! Tak! Tak!
Roars vs. puny thuds. Pressed end—no scorch.
Plan B!
Guts up, grabbed egg.
"Heavy. 5kg? Eat this!"
Isekai rage fueled full smash to floor.
Thud—
Roll—
Thud-thud—
Roll—
Breathless repeats. No scratch.
"What is this? Not beast egg?"
Rare metal? Money vibe. Save, ask Jeff/Ollie later.
Like volleyball movie—draw face, pet till they return.
Craaack!
Craaack!
"...Wha?"
The golden egg started to crack.