Chapter 237: Half a Salvation
The fruit that helped with hair loss had been handed off to the boss, so there was nothing left for me to worry about. The plants grew perfectly well on their own, after all. I knew I had to stay nearby, of course, and so the farming went on in earnest within the reach of my energy. One by one, the buildings around the Starlight Research Institute were coming down. When I asked the boss about the plan going forward, I was told they meant to demolish every last building and turn the land into fields. The ones I actually needed, of course, had been left standing.
"Mmm..."
I was fiddling with the tablet the boss had left me, lost in a video. The world of the elves hadn't been bad, but for someone used to the digital age, it ran a little short on fun. Modern society, plugged into the internet like this, was simply the best—though both worlds had their strengths and weaknesses, of course. Either way, I had officially become a full-time slacker.
It was summer break, so I didn't even have to go to school, and aside from the greenhouse in my backyard, Starlight Foods was growing everything for me. There was nothing at all to worry about. I decided to savor this leisurely stretch of days. Maybe it was because I'd spent the past month being hauled from place to place as the World Tree's incarnate vessel, but lying in bed and watching videos on a tablet felt perfectly fine. It might even have been better. Feeling the plush give of the mattress while videos dumped dopamine straight into my brain—that was something I simply couldn't do in that other world!
I was watching a movie hands-free, propped on a tablet stand. Last time I'd asked for one that clamped to the bed, and not long after I mentioned it, it had been bought for me. I wondered how they got their hands on things so quickly. Whatever I wanted seemed to show up within a day, or two at the outside.
Watching the movie like that, sleep came drifting in, and I didn't fight it. On a bed this soft, with the air conditioner breathing out a cool breeze, it would have been strange not to grow drowsy. I settled my head on the pillow and sank deep into sleep.
"Ugh..."
I woke to a burning thirst, drenched in sweat as if I'd been outside. Unable to bear the heat, I forced my eyes open. Why was it this hot? I found the reason soon enough: the air conditioner had broken. Hot sunlight was streaming through the gaps around the window, doing its steady work of baking the room. It felt like being shut inside a greenhouse—except the greenhouse in my backyard was a cutting-edge smart farm with climate control, and this was far hotter than that. A sweltering steam room of a bedroom.
"Hnngh..."
I let out a strained wail and climbed down off the bed. Choosing the thick blanket had been my fatal mistake. The air conditioner in my room was never supposed to shut off, so I'd picked an autumn quilt instead of a summer one, and that was why I'd woken into this steambath of heat.
There was a quiet thrill in burying yourself under a thick blanket while cool air-conditioning washed over you in the middle of summer. The sheer fact of using a heavy quilt despite the season was an enormous pleasure. But with the air conditioner broken like this, it had backfired completely.
I slipped on my slippers, opened the door, and stepped into the hallway. It was wonderfully cool out there. The temperature of my room a moment ago felt as if it had all been a dream. I shuffled into the office, and Bora was there to greet me.
"Hana. Weren't you asleep just a minute ago?"
Every so often the office staff came in to check that I was all right. They entered slowly and carefully, of course, so I never noticed a thing. It seemed Bora had slipped into my room and back out again just a little while earlier.
"Bora, the air conditioner in my room broke. It's so hot I can't sleep."
"Oh my, oh my. Hana, look at you—you're soaked in sweat!"
Sweat was running down my body. Set against the cool of this office, it was a sight that made no sense. The moment Bora saw me pouring sweat, she went straight into my room, then came back out clicking her tongue.
"It's way too hot. Hana, you'll have to sleep with the door open today, won't you?"
The hallway unit hadn't broken, so leaving the door open would let the cold air flow inside. Bora made a separate call and booked a repair technician. It being summer, they were booked solid, and it would take a little while. I threw my door wide open, willing the cold to make its way in, and fanned with my hands so the cool air in the hallway would drift into my room and drive the heat out.
But it was going to take some time, so I decided to go hang out in the office instead. I'd probably need to leave the door open for a good hour before the room filled with cool air. Sleep was a lost cause anyway, and loafing where the air-conditioning actually worked was far more comfortable. Besides, I had my own spot set aside in there—a space the staff had made just for me, since I came to play so often. I went in, picked up my tablet, and settled in to watch a movie.
The fruit that was good for hair loss—the one given a name of its own, Tangle—had successfully finished its trials. There were no side effects, yet nearly half of those suffering from hair loss saw little effect at all. The other half, however, experienced something astonishing: hair sprouting from their scalps. They had only eaten a sweet fruit, and yet their hair grew. There was nothing more wondrous, nothing more miraculous, than that.
The researchers who had tested Tangle chose to be satisfied that they could save nearly half of those with hair loss. Unfortunate as it was to say, the rest would likely still need wigs or transplants. Even so, half a cure though it was, the people who had taken part in the trial could break into wide, beaming smiles.
"The more we refine it, the more people we'll be able to free from hair loss."
Hearing the researchers say so, the trial participants could tuck a little hope away in one corner of their hearts. Their own scalps were so bare that sunlight would have glanced straight off them, but they had seen the person beside them sporting a full, lush head of hair. Having witnessed the effect so clearly with their own eyes, they couldn't help hoping that they, too, might be cured in time. Hair loss was no threat to one's life, so they could wait as long as it took. They had already spent their lives waiting for a treatment; they could gladly wait a few years more.
Hana had said something once, while she planted the seeds herself: the more fruit a plant bore, the stronger its effect would grow. Following those words of hers, the Tangle cultivated from then on would be able to save even more people. And saving even half of them was already a feat worthy of a Nobel Prize. No one had ever conquered hair loss, and yet Hana—half a cure though it was—had freed half of those who suffered from that most vicious of afflictions.
"This is insane...!"
Kim Jiho, as luck would have it, was one of that fortunate half. He couldn't believe the face staring back at him from the mirror. By all rights the crown of his head should have been bare, and yet hair was growing there now, thick and close. It was still short, but the mere fact that it was growing was enough to bring tears to his eyes. He had unquestionably been a balding man, but he had become someone it was hard to call bald at all. One of the greatest insecurities he carried was vanishing before his eyes, and that alone was reason enough for him to cry.
"My... my hair!"
Kim Jiho ran a hand over the crown of his head, feeling around. Short hair met his fingers. If it would only grow in properly, he could have his old hairstyle back. He had given up on the salon after the balding set in, but now he had hair worth taking to a stylist again.
"Thank you, Doctor!"
Kim Jiho bowed deeply to the doctor who had overseen his trial as he spoke. From this moment on, that doctor was the savior of his life.
"You ought to thank Starlight Wellbeing, not me. I didn't do a thing, heh heh."
The doctor said it while looking at him, because, just as he claimed, he truly hadn't done a thing. All he had done was feed them the fruit Starlight Foods had provided and watch how things progressed. Not a single participant in the trial had felt any side effects. If anything, some had liked the taste of Tangle so much they'd asked for more.
Starlight Wellbeing was content with the excellent data they had gained, and the doctors couldn't help but smile at the generous trial fees Starlight Foods had paid. A win-win, for everyone involved.