Downtime

  “I see. So you really were just talking out loud, right? There’s nothing else that’s bothering you—no pain or anything like that?” Carissa probed sheepishly. Going off her reactions and how she so desperately tried to avoid making eye contact, she probably had a hard time stringing those words together.

  “Yeah, my thoughts just took over for a second there that’s all.” Cyril answered with a ginger grin. Incidentally, he was also doing his best to not make eye contact.

  “Oh, so then who’s Aria?”

  “A-Ahh that’s just someone I met recently. Something she said randomly came to mind.”

  Sorry Carissa. Technically this isn’t a lie but I hope you can understand. He admitted inwardly, barely managing to swallow his own guilt.

  [Notice. Cyril, It is also possible for us to converse telepathically.]

  I wish you’d mentioned that earlier...

  Carissa had yet to respond verbally but unlike her lips, her eyes had spoken loud and clear.

  “....”

  “U-um, Miss Carissa is there something wrong? You’re giving me a stupidly strong glare you know.” Unable to withstand the icy stab of her glare, Cyril heaved a small sigh before turning to face her fully, half-expecting another lengthy lecture.

  “Huh?” That startled sound was all he could muster. Much to the boy’s surprise, none of what he he’d been expecting had come to pass after making one slight turn of his head.

  Instead of a stern talking to, he found himself on the receiving end of a hug. It was a simple gesture really, and yet somehow, he was at a loss for words. Stunned, shocked, baffled and surprised— It would have been easy to sum up his reaction as a mixture of them all if not for the fact that in the midst of that tender moment, his eyes had almost glossed over.

  It was a reaction he was wholly trying to suppress.

  In spite of that, he returned the tightening embrace without actually giving much thought to how long he should let it last for. Partway through a few muffled sobs and sniffles, Cyril heard the words “welcome back” gently brushing past his ear. Hearing that dispelled a great deal of the bitterness and frustration chipping away at his heart. It felt like a crack of light had pierced a piece of darkness that had wrapped around him for so long.

  “Yeah. I’m back.” He replied sincerely and allowed himself to embrace the gesture a bit longer.

  After a somewhat unconventional amount of time, Carissa slowly loosened her grip and bashfully returned to her seat by his bedside.

  “Ahem! Thankfully, it seems like everything is fine with your body for now. Your doctor should come by to check up on you soon so you should try to relax in the meantime.” she worded that statement rather attentively, all in a futile attempt to hide her embarrassment.

  Cyril smiled.

  He crossed his arms and nodded vigorously to convey the type of compliance he thought she was hoping for. “Okay, then I guess I’ll do that and laze around all day. I'm sure you won’t mind, right?” "In an attempt to win her favor, he even winked a few times, but Carissa merely swatted them away before continuing.

  “Absolutely not. By the looks of things, they’re going to be running tests on you all day. In the span of less than a week, you’ve been sent to this hospital twice with multiple fractures, broken bones and all kinds of abnormal injuries and yet somehow you still end up walking out of here before most of these people can even regain consciousness.” Carissa explained, her tone growing heavier by the second.

  “Honestly, I think they’re more interested in why you recover so much faster than everyone else even though you don’t have any skills whatsoever. I mean, you were in horrible shape when they found you, but somehow you seem to be doing fine after only six days.”

  “....Wait six days?!” Cyril let the exclamation loose unintentionally. “I was out for that long?” Accompanied by a sigh, his guardian’s icy glare returned.

  “You sound surprised about that for some reason. Look here, you might have gotten used to it somewhere along the line but narrowly escaping death and recovering in a matter of days isn’t something normal.”

  There was no room for a retort here. He realized that after registering the glossy sheen still covering her eyes.

  “That’s true. It’s the one thing I can’t argue against, I would be lying to myself if I did that.”

  Letting the silence pass for a bit, he raised his expression joyfully, somehow expecting that to actually lift the mood.

  “Carissa...aren’t you going to ask what happened?”

  She definitely heard that, yet she refused to return a reply for a while. After a bit of thought, she slowly shook her head before meeting his gaze. “I’ve heard a bit about it. Some of the other hunters—well, trainees who went in with you have already given their version of the events up to a certain point. Of the three established hunters that entered the labyrinth alongside your group only one of them came back on their own two feet.”

  “Yelena from the Regis clan, right?” Cyril finished, surmising the details on his own.

  “Mhm. She returned with their new B-ranker in tow but even after all this time, they’ve hardly given any official statements about the incident people are now calling the ‘Phantom Purge.’ I know it might seem like a little while ago to you but this has turned into quite the scoop over the past few days, people can’t seem to stop talking about it. Although I can’t blame them, a party of thirty-three getting reduced to a measly seven is nothing to scoff at.”

  I thought so. Yelena’s probably trying to save face for her clan. Though I can’t really blame her for that. The vivid image of Yelena's unyielding back flashed to the forefront of Cyril's mind. He found himself wondering what she'd felt at that time, but the thought quickly faded. Deep down, he already knew the answer.

  “Seven survivors? Aside from me, who else made it out?”

  Carissa locked her fingers and stared ahead for a moment. Her eyes swiveled around for a bit as if trying to locate the answers stashed away in her mind. “Umm, let’s see who else was there again? Oh yes, the captain is alive but he’s in pretty bad condition, apparently his mithril shield was durable enough to absorb the brunt of whatever left him in a coma. Aside from Ralph, there’s the duo from the Regis clan, a middle-aged guy named Shaw, some other trainee and the so called ‘crimson prince’ from the Phoenix clan. Even Evan, as strong as he was didn’t make it.”

  The final name made his fists clench reflexively.

  “You were the last one they hauled out from the gate before it was forcefully closed. Access to Baal’s labyrinth has been restricted too so the hunter association is taking this pretty seriously. The chairman has been doing a non-stop press run for the sake of reassurance but its only been drumming up more drama. The whole district incursion thing from a year ago is still making waves, and now this of all things, the chairman's certainly got his work cut out for him.” Carissa clarified with a small sigh, sounding exasperated by her own recap.

  “That does sound like him. He’s certainly got a lot of spunk for his age.” Cyril laughed perkily to himself. His teacher on the other hand didn’t seem to share the same degree of amusement.

  “At least you still have your spirit.” She mumbled offhandedly to suspend his laugh. “Truth be told, I’ve only heard bits and pieces of what happened in there. I’m honestly a little scared to hear the rest because...I feel like if all the details were laid bare, I would be pushing for you to quit this whole hunter thing and go lead a normal life.”

  Her words hung in the air, dry and heavy.

  “But the the thing is..." she continued, the words weighing on her chest. "....I can’t do that. I know how much this means to you—after all you and Alice spent most of your time together training for this stuff. The same goes for me, she’s the one who helped me find my stride as an enchanter and despite how I may sound sometimes, I do actually feel some kind of calling for this. Even if it's just providing support at the rear, it's refreshing to know that I can help save lives too.”

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Carissa expelled a deep breath, then stuck a finger to his forehead.

  “If I’m doing this for my own self-satisfaction, then I’m in no position to criticize you. Since I started seeing things that way, I feel like I’m able to understand you better. That’s why I won’t ask you about it—to stop myself from being a hypocrite.”

  Awestruck was the word. That was what Cyril felt. It was written all over his blushing face. Thus, once again, the boy closed his gaping mouth, swallowed a fresh batch of admiration and nodded his head against her extended finger. Carissa on the other hand, felt satisfied—mostly because he was being oddly compliant today—and because of how amusing she found his reactions, but still satisfied nonetheless.

  “Good. Then let’s settle that here for now.” she said, casually waving a hand.

  "Carissa... I’m a little surprised. Who knew you could be this hones—ah, I mean, persuasive."

  He sensed quite a bit of volatile intent building up in her stare just now, and opted to correct himself after recalling a past experience.

  “Witty brat. Looks like you still kept that cheeky attitude of yours even after your little makeover.”

  “Make over?” Cyril recited the alien word

  “Wait....you didn’t notice it!? Gosh! I could have sworn that was the reason why you suddenly got up and started mumbling to yourself out of shock!”

  Her words carried weight, but their meaning had yet to take hold. There was still a blatant look of confusion plastered on Cyril's face. Registering her cue, Carissa started rummaging through the stylish handbag that was resting on the floor and after a while, her hand came away with a compact mirror. She wordlessly handed the object to him and relaxed the small ridge forming between her brows.

  “No way!”

  Flipping the small mirror left him feeling overwhelmed, to say the least. His hand was drawn to his face out of pure disbelief—rubbing and stretching his skin like he was checking for something that should have been there, which was in fact what he was doing.

  “Carissa...”

  “Don't ask me. You were like that when I got here. Heck, even the hunters that found you were saying the same thing. Personally, I don’t think it's a bad look but that’s just my two cents on the matter.” Carissa said simply, then returned his cheeky wink from earlier. Normally, he would have liked to offer some kind of comeback but the shock had temporarily rendered him speechless.

  “I can’t believe it… My scar is gone. None of the Enchanters, not even the potions, ever worked—but now it’s really gone.”

  “That’s not the only thing that’s changed you know.” Carissa interrupted. “You can spare some thought to the fact that your eye and hair color have completely changed too.” Her words prompted him to take another glance in the mirror, he took some time to tussle his bangs and scan his eyes before defaulting into chuckles.

  “Silver hair and purple eyes huh? This is crazy...” Cyril fell onto his back wearily afterwards, taking advantage of the hospital bed that now seemed a lot more accommodating for some reason. Submitting to the moment, Cyril calmed himself with a deep breath before probing the depths of his consciousness.

  Aria are you there?

  [Yes Cyril. I am always here.]

  Great. Now can you explain this? Why did my appearance suddenly change?

  [Answer. The changes in your physiology have come about as a result of the assimilation with your new heart. The operator implanted that organ inside you to pass on the realm factor you currently possess, however since you lacked the fundamental qualities of a saint, a recalibration was needed.]

  Recalibration? You mean my body is mutating?

  [No, it is not a mutation—adaptation is a better term. Deviants remain human at their core, but a normal human body cannot sustain such an organ, nor a realm factor. Its mana concentration alone would be fatal, even before the realm factor itself drove them to insanity. Hence why the recalibration procedure was necessary for your assimilation. Your body underwent adaptive strengthening, reinforcing tissues, bones, and muscles to accommodate your new heart. The immense stress brought on by the process overhauled your physiology, and is allowing the heart's influence to manifest in your physical traits.]

  Hearing all of that made him feel a pang of regret for even asking the question in the first place, but it was already far too late for that kind of thing.

  Putting aside all those gruesome details for now, how did I survive that if I’m not a saint?

  [The synergy between your existing skills compensated for the deficiencies during the procedure.[Counter Stop] is a passive skill that negates all external attempts to interfere with your status, it protected your body from the destabilizing effects of mana oversaturation. In tandem, [Life Surge] rapidly accelerated your cellular regeneration, actively sustaining your vital functions when they would have otherwise failed. The elevated mana output from your new heart temporarily boosted the passive effects of both skills, and the resulting increase in your affinity index enabled them to operate with heightened precision and efficiency. Together, they preserved your life until the procedure concluded and, through the recalibration process, restored your physiology to an optimal state.]

  It sounds like I barely survived the procedure.

  [Answer. Cyril, the odds of success were in your favor. Prior calculations indicated that you had a 51.6% chance of surviving the procedure.]

  In what world are those favorable odds?

  He mentally shook his head and took a second to shrug off Aria’s cold indifference before ending the mental transmission.

  There was a knock on the door.

  Wordlessly, Carissa moved to slide the wooden construct inside its metal frame. The mobile veil of metal and oak came to rest with a dull thud as it met the outside world, leaving Carissa wholly unsurprised by the face she saw on the other side.

  “I would say I’m surprised but I expect nothing less from my number one patient.” a slender man proudly declared before stepping into the room.

  He stood a full head taller than Cyril, a height that doubled if Carissa were used as the baseline. His withered brown hair, eyes sunken into grooves, and a face weathered by time spoke of experience.

  When paired with his pristine white lab coat and the opulent glasses resting on his nose bridge, the image he projected naturally evoked the word ‘professional’ in the minds of all who saw him.

  “You visit him at least twice a day doctor Miller, I’m sure you expected to see something like this sooner or later.” Carissa answered simply.

  “Is that even a compliment Doc?” Cyril retorted, smiling wryly. He corrected his posture instinctually before sorting his clothes and the tubes snaking to his arm. All the while nodding to himself as if he already knew what was going to come next.

  “In a matter of days, you managed to pull through yet another near miss with death. This has been going on for a while now so I assumed you’d already depleted my shock factor, but I suppose I was wrong eh, Cyril?”

  “Well...” He began, shifting his glance to Carissa for a second. “...a lot happened but this time things really were out of my control. I’ll try to be more careful next time.”

  Miller lowered his gaze and nodded slowly. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve all heard that before Mr. Severin. Or should I say patient 0577.”

  “Huh? You’re still using that?”

  “Of course, it's a testament to your long history under my care. Almost the entire hospital knows that number. You’re quite famous among the staff here too; they call you the legendary ‘rapid rookie’ — a mysterious deviant with a unique skill that makes him nigh-immortal. He can recover from almost anything in just a week, from fractures to organ failure. That’s what the rumors say.”

  “Alright enough of that nickname!” Shrieking to himself, Cyril clutched his ears shut to block out the embarrassment.

  “Doctor Miller, can you go easy on him today? I already gave him the talk a little while ago.” Carissa interjected calmly, uninterested in the bickering dynamic between patient and physician.

  “Fine, I suppose I can oblige if you insist Carissa.” said Miller, suspending his chuckle. “I’ve been treating him for quite some time now so I more or less have an idea what to look for but this is the first time I’ve seen him come back looking so...different.”

  “It’s a first for me too doctor. I just hope there’s nothing seriously wrong with him.”

  “Well, there’s only one way to know for sure, isn’t there?” Cyril piped up perkily. He slid off the bed with an eager grace—movements far too fluid for someone supposedly unwell—before slipping into a fresh pair of disposable slippers.

  He weaved himself between the adults stationed at the doorway and effortlessly crossed into the well-lit hospital halls. “Shall we go?” he asked playfully. Surprisingly, the halls were rather tame at the moment so the people strolling by didn’t really mind hiss unobtrusive appearance. The white attire was masking his presence a little too perfectly.

  After exchanging glances with each other, Carissa moved first—headed in the opposite direction. “Cyril, you seem to be doing fine so I'm going to run some errands now. I might be away for a little while so stay put so you can recover properly. Doctor, I leave him in your care!”

  Carissa tossed the words over her shoulder with a carefree wave, then strolled down the hall with a light, casual bounce in her step.

  “What am I a kid?” he mumbled offhandedly, sounding peeved.

  “Haha! Now, Now, you should already know how Carissa operates. She’s the type to worry undercover. Besides, she’s basically been here for the entire week, she needs a break from all the chaos that goes on here.” Miller explained with a light smack from his clipboard.

  Registering the doctors signal, Cyril reluctantly tore his eyes away from his teacher’s shrinking form. “So, what exactly will you be checking for today doctor Miller?” He probed, desperately trying to switch topics.

  “Everything.” replied the spindly physician.

  “I figured. Guess some things truly never change.”

  Upon letting that remark slip, Cyril—deciphering his doctor's cue—swiftly locked his fingers behind his head and sauntered down the winding hallway with a disinterested look on his face.