Chapter 228

Chapter 228 – The Two Ends of the Balance 09

“It’s been a while since I saw you, Hansue.” Kui Xin entered the room with her emotions concealed.

When Yu Hansue started speaking, Kui noticed that her voice was very hoarse, and she seemed to struggle supporting her body, leaning against something half-way.

The closer she got to Yu, the stronger the scent of medicine and blood became. Yu was hooked up to an IV, with half of the liquid already administered. She had to get several infusions daily, and there was a catheter visible on her exposed arm.

“I haven’t seen you in a long time either, Xinxin. My aunt mentioned you were going to visit me days ago, so I’ve been waiting,” Yu watched Kui’s expression and added softly, “Don’t cry. I’m fine, I’m recovering.”

Kui shook her head.

“Right, since we were little you never cried, you’re always stronger than me.” Yu smiled. “How about you? Remember, you went here for college.”

After high school, they attended different schools and contacted less frequently; Kui was usually busy working part-time in the summer, rarely going out with friends. Despite this, their relationship remained close.

“College here, majoring in Artificial Intelligence.” Kui said, “Have you sorted out your arrangements?”

“They’re taken care of. The school put me on leave to help with my recovery, some teachers even donated money, and the insurance compensation is being processed. The medical bills are sorted out for now.” Yu expressed optimistically.

Yu was admitted to a provincial Medical University, and her college entrance examination scores were excellent. They considered the same speciality — Oral Medicine — when choosing majors. The reason was straightforward: dentists earn more money.

Unfortunately, one chose Artificial Intelligence and the other opted for Clinical Medicine.

Kui preferred Artificial Intelligence because she developed interest in it after flipping through her tutor, Liu Boyi’s books. Between career prospects and personal interest, Kui struggled before committing to her passion.

The employment prospects for the field were also promising as technology kept advancing.

“After college, do you plan to work on skin grafts?” asked Kui.

“They’re too expensive. A small patch can cost tens of thousands, so I don’t plan to consider them yet,” Yu answered.

Kui questioned further, “When you were in ICU, I visited you. The doctor explained they might need to amputate…”

Yu slightly moved under the bandages and murmured, “I’ve had my limbs amputated.”

“Does this impact your life much?” Kui asked with concern.

“Let me show you, don’t be alarmed,” Yu pulled out her right arm from under the covers. The lower end of the arm with the catheter was wrapped in bandages, with only her index and middle fingers covered by the hand wrap. Her other fingers were gone.

It was unimaginable how heavy a blow this could be for a young person.

“These aren’t significant. I still have one whole hand… At least I survived. My parents…’ These fingers left should be fine. Sometimes I will use them to make a “V” sign for happiness, or give a middle finger to the sky when I’m not pleased.”

If Yu Hanse were a Grade-A Awakening individual, such burns would recover with rest. Advanced Awakeners have strong regenerative abilities, making many severe injuries easily healed within a day. However, limb loss is irreparable, whether for a low-grade Regenerator like Kui or a high-level Awakener.

Yu seemed unperturbed by the prospect of grafting or healing, likely due to being a high-level Awakener herself. Her optimism stemmed from her awareness that although bedridden, hope still lingered.

“I feel comforted seeing you like this,” Kui told Yu. “Uncle and Aunt… It pains me to hear about this. But everything will sort itself out.”

She wasn’t good at consoling people, finding solace in silence whenever she felt down. Though understanding Yu’s plight, she believed comforting someone was a talent, and all she could do was sit and watch.

“I know.” Yu continued, “I plan to return home soon for treatment. The doctors say I’m recovering quickly. I’ll stay in a recovery center when I go back before recuperating at home.”

“Alright.” Kui nodded.

Yu changed the subject, “Enough of sad stuff. How’ve you been, Xin Xin? Still working this summer?”

“Yes, I tutor a girl getting ready for senior year. Aside from that, I’ve been very busy and tired,” Kui replied.

“You’re not running between two part-time jobs again, are you?” Yu inquired.

Kui’s mouth twitched.

In a sense, she was doing more than just two jobs simultaneously.

“Take it easy. College can provide aid and grants, which you can start repaying after graduation,” Yu advised worriedly. “Speaking of a game that took off recently, what was it called? Many people signed up for it… Did you hear about it?”

“…The Crimson Soil?”

Yu looked at Kui, guessing what she was about to say.

“That’s correct. You didn’t sign up, did you?” Yu asked. “Whatever it does later, don’t engage with it. This game…”

Her eyes lowered, seemingly straining to come up with reasons for Kui not to play.

“Too late.” Kui interrupted, “I’ve already signed up.”

Yu snapped up suddenly, her voice strained. “Signed up? No problem then, right? You weren’t selected, were you? Pre-testing phases have ended, and final testing isn’t even started. As long as you don’t reserve…”

Kui observed Yu silently.

Yu caught the profound calmness of Kui’s gaze, which seemed laden with secrets, making her think for the first time that she didn’t understand this childhood friend.

Her breathing started to tremble, feeling a confirmation.

“You… you weren’t selected, right?” Yu asked with a glimmer of hope.

She watched Kui slowly shake her head, “I was picked.”

Tears instantly pooled in Yu’s eyes and fell, merging into layers of white bandages.

Yu stretched out her arms. Kui approached her and gently embraced her, saying, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. Your wounds might tear open.”

Yu sobbed uncontrollably, gasping out, “I’m somewhat glad; although I’m not sure where you live in that world, I feel like I’m not alone anymore. But if possible, I hope you won’t join me… I… I don’t want to die, but it’s hard….”

Gradually, as Yu stopped crying, Kui let go and asked, “Tell me what happened, maybe I can assist.”

Yu paused, “It’s nothing significant. I worked as a trainee nurse at a federation hospital, a relatively stable position. All I had to do were routine tasks…”

“And?” asked Kui, “What danger did you encounter?”

“There was danger, but I was able to avoid it by hiding it well,” a shadow crossed Yu Hanse’s face, vanishing quickly. “Now, I rarely encounter danger… rarely…”

Yu lied to Kui. She wasn’t a trainee nurse in a federal hospital but a worker at a secret research facility, disposing of experimental subjects after failed trials.

Not revealing the truth was to spare Kui worry.

Yu Hanse’s responsibility was at Lab Nine, dealing with advanced specimens. Each day, she documented their growth and hormone levels. If samples showed flaws, she had to report them. After approval, she could terminate the experiments.

Monotonous yet simple, these tasks required little interaction. If cautious enough, she could conceal abnormal behaviors. Luckily, her implanted identity was new – unfamiliar with some procedures was natural, easing her cover.

Initially, Yu worked conscientiously and honestly.

Seven days after her return, she learned about the game’s status through forums.

Returning to the frightening world and gathering intelligence made her calmer and better at deception.

Yu intended to maintain this life, but an unexpected accident disrupted her plans — a fire broke out. Except for her, both her parents died in the blaze.

Overcome, she found herself back in ICU, transitioning to the Second World.

There, she pondered, deciding to leverage her abilities for power.

Yu reported a few nearly-terminable specimens, gaining execution authority swiftly.

Previously, she executed by directly injecting anesthetics to cause death painlessly with the press of a button. Now, she switched tactics.

She removed the subject from its container, manually injected the anesthetic. The medication flowed into the subject’s bloodstream.

She heard a system notification:

“You killed the unknown specimen.”

“You deprived the unknown specimen of Extraordinary Abilities.”

“You acquired Extraordinary Abilities [Wheel of Time·E-Level].”