Chapter 3

After witnessing Seorin’s awakening, I guess because the tension had eased up, or maybe due to relief, I passed out right there.

In other words, I don’t remember anything after that.

I blankly looked around the stark white hospital room, slowly blinking my eyes.

Sure, things turned out okay, but I didn’t have a clear sense of what to do next.

So, crossing my arms, I closed my eyes for a moment and fell into a somewhat serious pondering session.

“First things first, I need to learn how to be independent. Everything I had on Earth is gone now.”

My parents’ house, guardians, even my high school diploma and college acceptance letter—they all vanished.

If I’m thrown into society like this, I might starve within days.

“Of course, since I look young, they probably won’t just toss me out immediately…”

But eventually, I’ll have to stand on my own without any guardians, so the pressure was starting to weigh on me heavily.

At first, I thought about asking Seorin for help, but the idea of leeching off the girl who risked her life for me felt… inhumane. So I decided against it.

“So, I need a way to earn money on my own…”

No matter how much I racked my brain, nothing came to mind, making my head spin with confusion. As I was lost in thought, a doctor wearing a pristine white coat entered the room.

“Hae-un, are you feeling better?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good. Still, let’s be safe—would you mind if I check you over?”

It wasn’t a difficult request, so I nodded. The doctor seemed quite pleased and told me:

“Hae-un, you’re really brave. Your friends would cry their eyes out when I ask them for a check-up.”

Weird compliment, but okay…

While I was fumbling with that, the doctor finished some checks, then gently patted my head.

“All done. Normally, I wouldn’t give this out, but since Hae-un listened so well without crying, here’s a treat.”

And with that, he handed me a red-wrapped candy. Staring at the mysterious dog character on the wrapper, I blinked, confused.

“I don’t really like candy though…”

I used to dislike overly sweet things and hated the sticky residue left in my mouth, so I stopped eating candies altogether back in high school. Initially, I thought about leaving it untouched, but the cute puppy design on the wrapper made me reconsider.

“Might as well try it. I’ve got nothing else to do anyway.”

Thinking this, I popped the candy into my mouth.

“…!”

The flavor hit my bright white horns like an electric shock—it was intense! I used to avoid strawberry-flavored candy because it tasted more like syrup than actual strawberries, but this one? This one was so delicious it made my eyes widen in surprise.

As I savored it, giggles kept bubbling up, so I tried calming myself by pressing my cheeks. Suddenly, hurried footsteps approached, and someone burst into the room.

“Hae-un!”

Turning my head, I saw Seorin rushing toward me, tears brimming in her eyes. Shocked, I flinched but couldn’t push her away, so I opened my arms to welcome her.

“Hey, Hae-un! Gah, why did you do that?! I thought you were… gone! It scared me so much…”

Seorin sobbed loudly, hugging me tightly. Trying to act mature, I patted her back while looking over at a woman who followed her in. She stood there awkwardly laughing.

“Who’s she?”

Judging by her attire, she must be Seorin’s doctor? Feeling embarrassed, I tried to calm Seorin down and pull away, but she clung to me stubbornly, refusing to let go. There was nothing I could do but accept it.

Looking at her clinging form, I resolved to take even better care of Seorin. Just then, the doctor spoke up.

“Hello? I’m a counselor, and I’d like to ask Hae-un a few questions.”

A counselor, huh? Nodding silently, I stared at her as she flipped through some documents before asking simple questions and gradually getting to the point.

“Is there anyone who makes Hae-un feel upset or uncomfortable?”

Since there wasn’t, I shook my head. The counselor looked sympathetic, murmuring “I see,” and jotted something down. Sensing a misunderstanding, I waved my hands frantically and said:

“No, really, I’m fine!”

Due to the candy still in my mouth and my slurred speech, my words came out muffled. Embarrassed by my repeated mistakes, I bowed my head deeply. The counselor kindly patted my head, repeating that it was okay.

Confused by Seorin’s sudden renewed sobbing beside me, I glanced at the counselor, who extended her pinky finger toward me.

“Then, how about we make a promise that Hae-un will tell me when you’re ready to talk?”

Though I wanted to insist I was truly fine, I figured no matter what I said, she’d only respond with sympathy. Reluctantly, I agreed to the pinky promise.

“I’ll tell her when I feel calmer. Otherwise, this cycle might repeat endlessly.”

* * *

Inside a meeting room at the Hunter Association.

Seorin sat quietly, recalling the moment she broke out of prison with the injured Hae-un, thanks to the hunter who reached out to her first. He sighed deeply after flipping through some documents.

“I debated whether telling you this was the right thing to do, but I believe it’s best to inform you.”

His cautious tone sparked unease, yet I felt it was something I needed to hear. Taking a deep breath, I nodded. Confirming my resolve, he gave an awkward smile before handing me a document.

“It’s about Hae-un.”

“…What?”

The mention of Hae-un’s name startled me. If it had been about me, I might have taken it calmly, but hearing Hae-un’s name, now so precious to me, triggered an uncontrollable reaction.

As my eyes trembled and my heart raced, he hesitated before speaking calmly.

“She was subjected to illegal human experiments there.”

“Human experiments?”

“Yes. They forcibly injected ancient dragon blood into humans to create half-dragons.”

My mind went blank. From what I knew, injecting dragon blood into humans had close-to-zero success rates, often resulting in death.

“So… does that mean Hae-un doesn’t have much time left?”

“Well… it’s difficult to say, but healers generally agree with this assessment.”

“But… she seemed fine! She even said she wasn’t in pain!”

“Unfortunately, children who escape from labs or prisons often lie about not being sick to avoid being discarded.”

“What?”

“They know confessing pain means immediate disposal, so they stay silent.”

Despite trying to deny it, darker truths emerged. Desperate to hold onto hope, I blurted out another denial.

“Wait! Maybe it wasn’t an experiment lab after all. Maybe nothing happened to her there!”

Even I knew this was a stretch, but I couldn’t bear accepting the truth. Smiling bitterly, he shook his head.

“It was an experiment lab. You weren’t experimented on because the Hunter Association inspectors temporarily halted the procedures.”

Ah, yes—the sirens that cleared out all the guards. Realizing my escape from experimentation was pure luck, whereas Hae-un hadn’t been as fortunate, I covered my face, overwhelmed with sorrow. Offering comforting words, he sighed again.

“The association will do its best to save Hae-un, but given the slim chances, it’s wise to prepare yourself emotionally.”

Those words felt like everything was crumbling around me.

When I was abandoned and locked up, losing all hope, Hae-un was the first person to reach out—a lifeline and emotional pillar. The thought of losing her was unbearable.

Shaking violently, tears streamed down my face, but I knew I couldn’t break down here.

“Is there absolutely no way to save Hae-un?”

“There is, but it’s practically impossible. The elixir, a potion said to cure all diseases—if we could get one, it might heal Hae-un.”

“The elixir…”

“Yes. A priceless potion with only three vials existing worldwide.”

Staring blankly at my hands, I realized my newly awakened powers weren’t enough to afford, let alone obtain, such a treasure. Overwhelmed by despair, I forced myself to rise.

“I have to do something, no matter what.”

Determined, I clenched my fists tightly.

* * *

Back in the hospital room, I absentmindedly licked the candy the doctor gave me while watching TV. Thankfully, the language system here resembled Korean, so understanding wasn’t too hard. However, fundamental concepts—like the existence of hunters and monsters—differed greatly from Earth, taking time to process.

Staring blankly at the colorful screen, a new topic flashed across.

[Excessive Internet Live Streaming: Is This Okay?]

That phrase felt familiar… where had I seen it?

As footage of internet broadcasters aired, I noticed gaming existed in this world too. Watching intently, a fleeting thought crossed my mind—maybe I could try broadcasting.

But seeing one broadcaster drenched in soy sauce, spinning five times mid-air while clapping, I quickly shook my head.

“No talent, no chance.”

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