Chapter 38
"I want you to turn me into a hybrid," Kelly demanded as she bowed slightly.
"Huh? The hell?!" Max exclaimed in shock.
"Yes," Kelly nodded firmly. Her eyes suddenly grew moist, but she quickly wiped them clean before Max could comment.
"Why do you want to be a hybrid? Not like I have any means of turning you into one myself." Max chuckled nervously, his eyes reverting back to normal.
"Not you. I mean the corporation or gang behind you," Kelly clarified.
"Meaning?" Max raised an eyebrow, his confusion deepening.
"There's no way a normal human would be turned into a hybrid without some sort of backing. Usually, it's either one of the two huge scientific corporations found in the level one cities, or the bigger gangs located in level two or one cities. So one of these groups should have sponsored yours, right?" Kelly asked with a sharp look.
'Sheesh! How do I tell her that no one sponsored me? I just got killed, woke up in a foreign body with a system telling me I'm a dragon vessel or something. And now I've evolved into a dragon scion.' Max thought with a nervous smile tugging at his lips.
"But why do you even want to be a hybrid?" Max asked, trying to divert the topic.
Kelly sighed, lowering her head as her foot twisted awkwardly against the ground.
"My life in this slum is bad. Really bad. I don't want to live out all my life here. I want to get married and live in one of the big cities.
I have already spent almost half my life here, and I don't want my kids to suffer the same fate. That's why I refrained from having a boyfriend or anything like that," she explained, her tone carrying both weight and sadness.
That was when Max finally took the liberty to look at her properly.
Kelly looked like a woman in her mid-twenties. She had straight, long, blonde hair that was slightly disheveled and unkempt, but still carried a certain charm. Her beautiful black eyes reflected Max's image back to him, steady and clear.
Standing at about 4.6 feet tall, she had a surprisingly curvy, busty figure. Max had only one word that could sum her up.
Beautiful.
"And for me to do that," Kelly continued, "I need to be a hybrid. Because they are the ones with better opportunities.
They could get recruited as models, fashionistas, or even join a gang. With those kinds of opportunities, they can live a decent life—one that isn't tied to the slums."
'Huh?' Max thought in surprise. 'I'm shocked she doesn't have some big ambition to rule the world or anything.' He chuckled inwardly.
"So… can you help introduce me to your backing or something?" Kelly asked, her eyes filled with expectation.
Max's eyes widened as something suddenly clicked in his mind.
"Right! I'll think about that. I'll try to recall which corporation was behind my transformation and put in a word for you. But for now, I need to be somewhere." Max quickly said, his voice rushed as he activated his Draconic form.
Instantly, his appearance shifted into Damian's form, and luckily for him, no scales or claws were visible this time. Kelly froze, her eyes widening with stars practically dancing in them.
"Thank you for your hospitality. I promise to repay you in the future. Bye now, and take care!" Max shouted as he dashed out of the house.
"Wait!" Kelly snapped out of her daze. "Are you sure you are fi… nevermind, he's gone." She sighed, watching the door close behind Max.
'I wonder where he is headed.'
__
Meanwhile, after leaving Kelly's house, Max sighed as he tucked his hands in his pockets, heading out of the slum area toward somewhere important.
'I wonder if that stranger really paid the hospital bills or if he ran off with the money. I wonder if she's even safe and sound. Hold on! How long was I even out for? Shit! I forgot to ask.' Max cursed inwardly as he picked up his pace.
Fumbling in his pocket, he pulled out a hundred bucks and then heaved a sigh of relief before hailing down a taxi and getting in.
"Lifesaver Hospital," he said, and the driver immediately got to work.
'Gangs, corporations, kings, hybrids, demons, and now demon vessels—this is a lot to take in,' Max thought as he rubbed his temples.
'But one thing still doesn't sit right. How on earth did that gang leader get the syringe he injected himself with that turned him into a demon vessel?
If turning into hybrids can only be done by scientific corporations, does that mean one of them gave him the syringe? Do they even know what it truly contains? Or maybe… do they know and chose to hand it over anyway? AHH! My head aches.'
Screech!
"We are here," the driver announced. Max quickly got down, paid him, and hurried toward the hospital.
He was so lost in thought that he didn't even take in the sheer scope of the building—the wide glass doors, the bright white walls, or the buzzing line of people in the waiting area—as he made his way to the reception desk.
"Hi. I'm looking for a patient. Mia?" Max said, trying to sound calm, though his chest was tight with worry.
The receptionist quickly began typing. "And you are?" she asked without looking up.
"Damian," he replied, almost instantly.
"Sorry, I don't know you, and you were n—"
"She's in the causal ward. Take the stairs you see there, you'll end up on a floor, turn right, and the third room on your right is where she is. Good luck," another nurse interjected smoothly.
Max smiled in relief. "Thanks," he said quickly before jogging off.
"Why did you give him the directions? We don't know who he is," the first nurse said sharply, annoyance in her tone.
"I do. You weren't here when the patient was brought in, but I was." The second nurse scoffed and returned to her work, leaving the first speechless.
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A few minutes later, Max found himself standing in front of a plain wooden door that supposedly led to Mia's room. He lingered for a moment, his hand hovering near the knob as his heart raced.
The silence in the hallway made his own breathing sound loud, and for the first time, fear pricked at him—what if she wasn't okay?
Taking a steadying breath, he gave the door a soft knock, then twisted the knob and walked inside.
The room was clean and sterile, filled with the soft hum of machines and the faint scent of antiseptic. White walls reflected the dim glow of overhead lights, while a single metal-framed bed sat at the center, neatly covered in crisp sheets.
Beside it, a monitor beeped rhythmically, and a small table held a jug of water and a few scattered medical tools. The air was quiet, almost too quiet, pressing against him with a weight of unease. And on the bed, laying awake with a faint smile on her face, was the very person he had come to see.
"Damian." Mia's voice was soft, but it carried across the room as if it had been waiting for him.