Chapter 64
Chapter 64
Chapter 64: The Cure (2)
Translation: godtl
"I was seriously shocked! I never dreamed you'd participate in the Debut Match alone!"
"Same here, Oppa. There were three promising candidates being discussed as future Rankers, you know."
"I'm more curious about the magic you used, Mr. Si-mun. Or should I say alchemy? What on earth did you create?"
From the moment the door opened.
Until they settled on the sofa with tea in hand.
The barrage of questions never stopped.
Facing what felt like a press conference under the relentless questioning from Korea's three top Players, Si-mun shook his head repeatedly while giving measured answers.
Surprisingly.
'They're not asking for details about Traits or Stats.'
Though their faces clearly showed curiosity, perhaps because all three were top-tier Players?
They avoided delving too deeply into anything related to abilities.
'Not that it'd be a problem if I told them...'
Not only the two juniors he'd practically raised.
But even Park Jin-uk, the Night Hunter—given his past life experiences, Si-mun knew how fiercely loyal this man of principle was.
'But no reason to volunteer what they're not asking.'
The more people who know, the more likely information leaks.
Gratefully accepting their goodwill, Si-mun wrapped up his Debut Match story.
As Jin-uk sipped his now lukewarm tea, he finally broached the main topic.
"Mr. Si-mun, you received the message I sent earlier, right?"
"Of course."
Si-mun glanced at Lee Yu-jeong and nodded.
"Don't be shocked. The sales amount came to a staggering 5.5 billion won."
"Wha—?!"
"Kuh—kuh-hack!"
Kim Si-hyeok and Lee Yu-jeong gasped in shock.
Yu-jeong, despite being a Ranker, actually choked on air—a miraculous sight.
And rightfully so.
Before the Galaxy Arena's emergence.
The world's most expensive medication—the treatment for spinal muscular atrophy (SMA)—cost approximately $2.2 million per dose.
That's roughly 2.8 billion won per injection, an astronomical price.
Yet the Mana Sclerosis Cure sold for over double that at 5.5 billion?
"And that's per bottle. You gave me ten bottles initially."
Ten bottles at roughly 5.5 billion each.
While minor price fluctuations were possible.
It was easy to calculate that total sales exceeded at least 55 billion won.
'Wow... I had a rough estimate, but this is insane.'
Considering the Mana Sclerosis Cure's price in his past life, this was practically creating something from nothing.
'At this rate, it's like turning stone into gold.'
-Gurgle gurgle. In a way, our Oppa really is an alchemist economically too. Ouch! Stop that!
'Philosopher's Stone, you... never mind.'
Si-mun chuckled wryly at the stone's praise.
Shaking his head slightly, he turned to Jin-uk.
"Mr. Si-mun, I guarantee—if you hadn't set a price ceiling, each bottle could've easily surpassed 10 billion won."
"I imagine so."
"'Imagine so'? That's an understatement! The Black Market was foaming at the mouth over it. Asking if there were side effects or something."
Jin-uk's disgusted tone suggested he'd been thoroughly pestered.
Naturally.
A minimum of 10 billion per bottle.
Ten bottles meant over 100 billion—yet the seller himself slashed the potential earnings in half with a price cap.
From the Black Market's perspective, he must have seemed utterly insane.
Si-mun asked in a peculiar tone:
"But you followed through on our agreement, didn't you?"
Once a Diamond-ranked celebrity.
After retiring due to Mana Sclerosis, he'd even run an intelligence agency in the underworld.
Even for Jin-uk—who lacked nothing financially—100 billion was hardly pocket change.
At Si-mun's probing tone, Jin-uk responded with a carefree laugh.
"Honestly? It stung a little. A hundred billion is nothing to scoff at—could've made even more. When demand calls, price follows."
Even Diamond Players like Jin-uk weren't immune to the disease.
Others in similar situations would bid their entire fortunes—a given.
"You should've seen it yourself, Mr. Si-mun. From celebrities to governments—the auction frenzy was beyond imagination."
"Yet you kept your word to me."
"It's a deal with our VVIP, isn't it? Well..."
Jin-uk trailed off awkwardly.
Scratching his cheek with an uncharacteristically sheepish expression, he added:
"After suffering from an Arena Disease myself... I couldn't view the cure as just money anymore."
If it had been in the past, perhaps.
But Park Jin-uk had already experienced the fall from the pinnacle—forced retirement due to Mana Sclerosis.
Knowing that desperation firsthand, he couldn't bring himself to exploit the cure for profit.
"After the auction ended, I finally understood. Why Si-mun—no, Sir Si-mun—had set a price ceiling."
Jin-uk switched to honorifics without hesitation.
Despite his rough, gangster-like face, his gaze at Si-mun was filled with deep admiration.
"You prioritized people over money. I suppose it's because you've suffered from an Arena Disease yourself."
Si-mun answered with a silent smile.
'The misery of contracting an Arena Disease... is something you can't truly understand unless you've lived through it.'
If one had been born powerless from the start, it might have been easier.
At least then, they wouldn't know the agony of losing and deteriorating.
But Arena Diseases only afflict the Awakened.
The despair of losing what was once whole—that grief was beyond words.
'Knowing that, how could I play games with a cure?'
Moreover—
'This is also preparation for the upcoming official Arena.'
The more healthy Players there were, the more would survive the coming trials.
And that would determine whether nations—or Earth itself—endured.
Si-mun smirked and spoke.
"I'm greedy for money too. All alchemists are, aren't they?"
"And yet, you sold your cure—something priceless—at a fixed ceiling price?"
"I'll mass-produce it anyway. And as a Diamond Player, you should know—55 billion per dose is still insanely expensive, right?"
"Hah! Fair enough. Then let's just say Sir Si-mun foresaw the future and planned accordingly."
Jin-uk laughed heartily.
His younger brother might have chimed in with something like "That's our hyung for you!"—
But Kim Si-hyeok simply observed the scene in silence.
Si-mun, who understood why his brother was acting this way, naturally shifted his gaze—
"......."
—toward the beauty staring at him in a daze.
Perhaps because his eyes had turned to her—
"B-Brother. Unless I misheard just now..."
Lee Yu-jeong's voice trembled as she barely managed to speak.
"Yu-jeong, I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner."
Si-mun gently clasped her hand.
"You're right. I'm the one who made the Mana Sclerosis Cure that appeared in the Black Market."
He gave her the answer she had anticipated.
"Ah... U-uh... Hic!"
Before she knew it, Yu-jeong's brimming tears spilled over as she burst into sobs.
"I... I searched... so hard..."
Her words dissolved into incoherence.
Si-mun quietly embraced his weeping sister.
After calming Yu-jeong down from her prolonged crying, Si-mun—
—found her emotions stabilizing surprisingly fast as she asked about her mother's chances of recovery.
"As much as I'd love to say it's possible, I need to know her exact diagnosis first."
"Two conditions. Mana Deficiency and Circuit Reversal."
"Good heavens! Two?!"
Si-mun's eyes widened like a startled rabbit's.
And for good reason—even across his past life,
he had rarely encountered a Player suffering from two Arena Diseases at once.
The reason was simple.
'Most people with multiple Arena Diseases die quickly...'
Though Si-mun himself had been slowly dying from Mana Disability,
he had barely clung to life by doping on every Spirit Elixir and item he could find.
"Endured" would be the better word.
But with two or more Arena Diseases? The story changed entirely.
A handful of Players with multiple conditions did exist—
but even before the official Arena began,
they never escaped an early grave.
"Yu-jeong, how long has your mother had these conditions?"
"She collapsed seven years ago, but the tests suggested she's been sick for about ten."
"Ten years..."
Si-mun's expression darkened.
'This is far worse than I thought.'
Surviving ten years with two Arena Diseases?
'Is it because she's my aunt that she's held on this long?'
Having suffered Mana Disability himself,
he knew the general progression of Arena Diseases—first, the loss and deterioration of abilities,
then, once there was nothing left to lose, the body itself began to fail.
In that sense, it made a twisted kind of logic that Yu-jeong's mother had lasted a decade with two conditions.
Because...
'She was originally a 1st Generation Ranker.'
A 1st Generation Ranker.
Though there might be some differences compared to current Rankers due to the systematic growth methods like the Prodigy System and Spirit Elixirs that exist now...
She would still surpass most Diamond-ranked players in terms of specs.
However.
'It's highly likely she doesn't have much time left.'
Even if she was a 1st Generation Ranker.
Enduring two Arena Diseases for ten years couldn't possibly leave her unscathed.
Especially since Circuit Reversal, even when successfully treated, left behind extremely brutal aftereffects.
Perhaps because Si-mun's expression had grown grave.
"U-um... Oppa, is it... perhaps difficult...?"Lee Yu-jeong asked with a face full of unease.
"Ah! Sorry. I was just lost in thought for a moment."
Si-mun quickly shook his head to reassure Yu-jeong.
But he couldn't lie to her.
"First of all, if we have the materials, I can make the cure. The problem is the Circuit Reversal."
"Ah."
A myriad of emotions crossed Lee Yu-jeong's face.
"Oppa, even if we can just cure one, that's fine! Just tell me what materials you need and I'll get them right away—!"
"Wait, Yu-jeong. Calm down and listen first."
Si-mun gently soothed her and continued carefully.
"Let me make one thing clear. I'll say it again—both diseases are treatable."
And true to her sharp nature—
"The treatment... itself, you say?"
Yu-jeong quickly grasped the nuance in his words.
"So there's something about the Circuit Reversal you mentioned earlier."
"Yeah."
"I know Circuit Reversal is a high-risk Arena disease. Is it because the cure is difficult to make?"
She was well aware that alchemists frequently failed during the creation or synthesis process.
But Si-mun firmly shook his head.
"No. While making the Circuit Reversal cure is somewhat difficult, it's not impossible for me."
This was Kim Si-mun, who had already created an Elixir at Level 1 to cure Mana Disability.
He had memorized the recipes for all Arena disease cures by heart.
The Circuit Reversal cure's manufacturing process was just particularly vicious, but as long as they gathered the materials, creating it wouldn't be a major issue.
In fact.
'My current specs are far beyond my past life's.'
This was completely different from his Level 1 days when he couldn't use mana.
The problem was—
"It's because of the aftereffects of the Circuit Reversal treatment."
"Aftereffects...?"
Si-mun nodded heavily.
"Circuit Reversal is exactly what it sounds like—a disease that causes mana circuits to reverse. And the cure works by forcibly normalizing them."
"Are you saying... that forcibly normalizing them might damage Mom's mana circuits?"
"Exactly. I'm not a doctor, but I know that from the moment Circuit Reversal sets in, it puts inherent strain on the mana circuits. And your mother has endured in that state for a full ten years."
A dark shadow fell over Yu-jeong's face.
Unless she was an idiot.
There was no way she wouldn't understand what Si-mun was implying.
"Her mana circuits must already be severely weakened. If we use a forceful cure in that state..."
She probably wouldn't be able to function as a player ever again.
Unable to voice those words himself, Lee Yu-jeong finished the thought for him.
"Her mana circuits would be completely ruined, right?"
"Yu-jeong, honestly, the fact that she's holding on like this is already a miracle."
"I know. That's what the doctors always say too. That any normal patient would have died long ago."
"Yu-jeong..."
"So it all comes down to my decision in the end. Since I'm Mom's legal guardian."
At those words, both Kim Si-hyeok and Park Jin-uk, who had been standing nearby, held their breaths.
They were both top-tier players.
From their perspective, the idea of losing all one's abilities as a player wasn't something to take lightly.
But.
"It's okay. As long as Mom can wake up, I don't care about anything else. I've always prayed that I'd be willing to pay any price."
Yu-jeong answered with a bright smile.
"Yu-jeong."
But what about the responsibility?
What if, when your mother wakes up, she asks, 'Why did you choose to make me lose all my abilities?'
What if, by some chance, she blames you for it?
'Of course, knowing her personality, she probably wouldn't...'
But who could predict the heart of someone who's been ill for so long?
Yet.
"Actually, Oppa, everything you just said... I've already heard it all from the doctors. Word for word, without a single discrepancy. That's why I want to ask you even more."
Yu-jeong simply gazed steadily at Si-mun with her usual serene smile.
"So please don't worry and just make it for me. I'm begging you, Oppa."
Her eyes conveyed the unspoken words—I'll take full responsibility.
Perhaps sensing Yu-jeong's resolve—
"...Alright. First, let's gather the materials and assess your mother's condition."
Si-mun looked back at his younger sister, who had grown up so admirably, with a proud smile.