(Arin's Perspective)
The familiar sting of antiseptic assaulted my nose once more, this time mingled with the distinct, chalky scent of wet plaster.
The infirmary again?
I wasn't sure if this was the definition of déjà vu or if I had simply turned this place into my second home.
"I really should start charging you rent, Arin."
Edna's voice sounded distant, as if reaching me from underwater. Slowly, my blurry vision sharpened. The woman sat at her desk, her face crumpled with exhaustion.
"I was just about to enjoy a strawberry tart after a long shift," she grumbled, massaging her temples. "But then Erika barged in, carrying you and screaming hysterically. I thought there was a monster attack. Turns out, my frequent patient, who was discharged only this afternoon, had returned in the form of mashed pulp."
Edna continued to mutter, venting the frustration of her sudden overtime. I could only listen resignedly to her scolding; it was the price I paid for her treatment.
Once my breathing steadied, I tried to move my left hand. Heavy. Stiff. My arm was encased in a thick cast from elbow to fingertips.
"Don't move," Edna snapped without looking back.
She held a sheet of mana scanning film—a magical equivalent of an X-ray—up to the light. Her brow furrowed deep. "Explain this to me. How does a Class C student with zero mana manage to shatter three metacarpal bones and tear his own triceps from the inside?"
I swallowed hard. My throat felt as dry as a desert. "Training accident?"
Slam!
Edna slapped the scan onto the desk.
"Do not lie to a medical professional! These aren't defensive wounds, Arin. Your bones didn't break from blocking a blunt object. They cracked from Recoil. You hit something incredibly hard with force far exceeding your own bone density."
"Oh that... you know, Edna, I found the method. For a brief moment, I released aura. You know the sensation of cutting a mangrove tree as hard as concrete? It felt amazing. Haha."
I babbled quickly, trying to divert the topic with fake enthusiasm.
Edna rubbed her temples, ignoring my rambling. Suddenly she froze, fixing me with a probing stare.
"Wait. So your new method is what crushed your own hand?"
"Ah... not exactly. The injury happened because I hit something else."
Her eyes narrowed. "Hit what? A steel wall? A Golem?"
"A pest," I answered briefly. "A pest wearing armor."
Silence hung for a moment. Edna looked at me as if assembling puzzle pieces in her head.
"A colleague in the next ward mentioned he received a patient last night with serious injuries. Crushed ribs, partially collapsed lung. He said the boy's breastplate was dented inward as if struck by a giant hammer," Edna said softly, her tone heavy with intimidation. Her expression clearly said: You did it, didn't you?
I looked away, staring at the white wall to my right. "I don't know what you are talking about."
"Arin! Do you realize the consequences?!" Her voice rose.
"Relax, that extorter won't dare to snitch. After all, he started it. I am also severely injured. If he reports it, he goes down with me for illegal fighting."
Hearing that logic, Edna's shoulders slumped. She let out a long sigh, as if all her energy had drained away.
"Great. So now I am treating a murderer-in-training," she sighed. Despite her sharp tongue, her hands still offered me a glass of water. "Drink. You are severely dehydrated."
The cold water washed down my throat, clearing some of the fog in my head. Suddenly, the memory of my cargo jolted me awake. My eyes scanned the room in panic.
"Edna... my bag. Where is my bag?"
"You mean that sack that smells like carrion?" Edna's chin pointed to a magically refrigerated glass cabinet in the corner. "I put it in there. The smell was nauseating. What is in it, anyway? Monster hearts?"
I exhaled in relief. My treasure was safe.
"Medical ingredients. Edna... may I borrow the lab equipment in the back room? Just for a moment."
"Look at your hand, you fool! You want to play experiments with one arm?"
"It is precisely because my hand is like this that I need the medicine," I cut in seriously. I locked eyes with Edna's green gaze. "Standard doctor's medicine only knits the bone. But the serum I want to make... it will reinforce the foundation so it doesn't break again in the future."
Edna fell silent, assessing me. She knew there was no point in forbidding a stubborn mule.
"One hour," she decided with finality. "And if you blow up my lab, I will stitch your mouth shut."
One hour later, inside a small laboratory stifling with chemical fumes.
The Horned Frog's heart now lay in a petri dish. Its color had paled slightly, but the adrenal glands were still perfectly intact.
Since my left hand was totally useless, it was time for science to take the wheel. The main problem with my body was imbalance. My heart could pump like a steam engine piston, but my blood vessels and bones were still made of brittle twigs.
I needed elasticity. I needed durability. This was where knowledge played its part.
Gishlain Bassil, a Sixth Circle Mage and monsterologist. His books, "Anatomy of Magic Circuits in Monsters" and "How to Extract Monster Serum", were my bibles. It was a pity his genius work was often deemed heretical and unethical by rigid academics. Don't worry, Old Man; I am your biggest fan.
I reached for the scalpel with my right hand. With precise movements, I sliced into the frog's ventricle. My memory replayed the anatomical diagrams from the book.
I drew the fluid extract with a pipette, then dripped it into a beaker containing a mixture of finely crushed Spirit Grass and a pinch of pure calcium powder.
I heated the liquid over a magic Bunsen flame. Small bubbles began to rise. The color shifted drastically from blood red to a murky, repulsive green. The smell was... extraordinarily foul. Like a mix of old urine and meat left in the sun for a week.
"Good God, Arin!" Edna's shout came from behind the closed door. "What are you cooking in there?! It smells like a Goblin carcass!"
"Don't come in, and please close the vents!" I yelled back in panic. I couldn't let this precious gas escape.
When the boiling liquid turned a deep, solid green, I immediately cut the flame.
"Tissue Elasticity Serum - Version One," I muttered with satisfaction.
Without waiting for it to cool properly, I poured the thick sludge into a measuring glass. Hot steam still wafted from it. If I hesitated even a little, I would vomit. So, I downed it in one gulp.
Gulp.
It felt like swallowing boiling molten lead.
The heat didn't stop in my stomach. It spread wildly, branching into my chest, then crawling through every network of blood vessels.
"ARGH!"
A stifled groan escaped my lips. My right hand gripped the edge of the steel table so hard my knuckles turned white.
My heart pounded furiously, as if protesting being burned alive. But slowly, that stinging heat transformed into a solid warmth. My pulse, usually rapid and irregular due to arrhythmia, now felt heavier... more powerful. It felt as if the heart walls were thickening, layer by layer.
THUMP... THUMP... THUMP...
I stared at my cast-bound left hand. The piercing pain in the bone slowly subsided, replaced by an intense itch; the sign of forced cell regeneration. My body's cells were devouring the monster's essence greedily.
I wiped cold sweat the size of corn kernels from my forehead.
"Step one complete. Foundation reinforced."
Now, all that remained was to wait for this hand to heal so I could test the strength of my new piston. And when that happened... Gareth and his young master had better start praying.
In the final semester exam, they would realize that the person they had despised as a 'cripple' had transformed into their nightmare.