Mr. Magical Girl

Chapter: 104. Operating Room (2)

Leaving behind the terrifying battlefield with massive bam! crash! damage, we made our way toward the tower.

In the center of the white space. The large, round tower where the incident had ended, pushed through the wide plaza.

It was designed to increase its width instead of height to fit the effect range of the operating room.

A hidden branch of the Association created solely to accommodate and research hundreds of thousands of people.

By the way, the Association really likes towers. Was it really necessary to raise that thing? Wouldn’t it have been more efficient to just reconstruct the whole area? It doesn’t need to be high here to observe the Otherworld, but looking at it being tower-shaped, really…

As I continued my random thoughts, we slowly slowed down. We couldn’t just dash into the inside of the building.

On the main road leading to the entrance of the Association, there were countless people.

Those moving in wheelchairs.

Those doing exercises in the empty lot next to the building.

Those laying on grass with mats, soaking up the sun.

However, among them, there wasn’t a single person moving by themselves.

Everyone was attached to white nurses who pushed the wheelchairs, pulled limbs, and gazed up at the sky from beside the mats.

Because they could do nothing.

Because they couldn’t think of anything.

This is such a ward.

Not only for those affected by the gray plague.

Patients from the Association who suffered brain death, mental collapse, soul extinction, or received a diagnosis of untreatable conditions from another battlefield.

They haven’t died, but they can’t be considered alive either. For those who won’t let go of the lives of those dedicated to humanity, you could say it’s a good thing.

But no one here finds hope.

Of course, just continuing to live can be happiness.

With the power of the Otherworld, the world has developed massively.

Real-time communication covering the entirety of Earth.

Tri-fold substitutive batteries capable of holding unimaginable energy.

Perfect insulation material that blocks thermal energy.

Ultra-compact natural language Turing machines.

As society has evolved, time flows with the hope that they will awaken one day.

And as technology progresses, hope gradually turns into despair.

1 year, 5 years, 10 years, 15 years.

Hope soon becomes despair, and soon indifference.

No matter how much society progresses.

Despair cannot bring back those who have vanished.

Fifteen years is too short to know the deep places of the human mind.

Of course, as technology advances, some leave the ward.

Fully artificial organs.

Unconscious exploration through superpowers.

Restoration of losses due to advancements in regeneration technology.

Those who benefit and leave.

However, the number of those who can receive those benefits is too small.

Even now that the fighting with the Otherworld has quieted, some become living corpses.

It has been 14 years since this branch was established. The average number of discharges per year has never exceeded the number of admissions, not even once.

“Not yet.

Has the number of discharges ever exceeded the number of admissions? I haven’t checked lately.”

“Though the numbers have significantly decreased, it still needs a bit longer for it to reverse…”

I see. I’ve asked unnecessarily.

I gathered my suddenly gloomy heart and moved my feet.

What was I expecting?

“Don’t you guys wonder why everyone is like that?”

Is there anything to be curious about?

“No matter how immortal they are and don’t age, if they keep lying down, bedsores will form, or their bones and muscles will stiffen or something like that, right?”

“Wow. You hit the nail on the head.”

The countless personnel needed to maintain that system are resolved by nurses rising from the operating room.

Thanks to that, there’s no need to charge patients, and the Association doesn’t need to allocate additional budgets, so they can keep such a ward running.

Hmm. Thinking back, would they have maintained it even if there was no operating room?

I’m not sure.

If the Association prioritizes welfare, that’s quite likely, but if there was no operating room, a different system would probably have been created due to budget issues.

Looking at it this way, even if the Association runs on the sandcastle of a few sacrifices, it’s not a big concern since each person is willingly making sacrifices.

Clink.

So, I opened the tower’s door.

People entered my field of vision.

Not patients or nurses, but employees sent from the Association to that branch. However, none of them turned their gaze toward us entering through the entrance.

It’s natural. It’s extremely rare for them to interact with people. Only occasional inspectors or families visiting patients; most of those using the entrance are likely to be patients and nurses.

It’s unreasonable to expect kindness from those sent to such a deserted place, not even in a service job.

Since no one else seemed to be around, I approached without taking a waiting number and spoke up.

“I’m here from the Korea branch…”

“Ah! Please take a number ticket!”

Finally realizing me, the receptionist tore her gaze from the monitor and greeted me with a bright smile.

“I know what you wish to say, but we need a number ticket for record-keeping. Please blame the person who made the system.”

That damned system. Those damned procedures.

I pressed the scoreboard next to me as arguing will be meaningless.

The number printed on the ticket that came out was 001. Proof that I was the first customer today.

Such a bore.

“Yes. How can I assist you?”

“I’m the Hero Haram Lee from the Korea branch, here on a request. Registration number 01-005-M; you should have already been notified with the details.”

If this wasn’t notified, I would instantly fly at supersonic speed back to Korea and beat up Park Hyunseok.

“Yes. Confirmed. You’re an inspector. Who’s the person behind you?”

Wait. Inspector?

“Inspector? Not academic research?”

“It’s indeed an inspection. As notified, you’re here to investigate the overall situation of the branch…”

…Is that not my job?

“Did the notification come under the name of Park Hyunseok, the Korea branch head?”

“Yes. So, who’s the person behind you…?”

Wow, amazing. This Park Hyunseok has put me in a bind. Not only checking on the progress of the plague but now conducting an inspection? I’m gonna hit him when I get back. No doubt about it.

“It’s Oxymoron. 10-1432-P.”

Ignoring my groaning, Oxymoron stepped forward and responded in my place.

“Yes. Confirmed.”

The receptionist proceeded with her work, showing no fear despite me being an inspector.

“Inspector Haram, please wear this ID pass around your neck, and Oxymoron can use the Hero registration certificate originally in your possession.”

A small plastic card was extended toward me.

A terrifying object with my peculiar expression and the excessive title of inspector written on it.

I let out a sigh and accepted it, hanging it around my neck.

Alright, I’m going to earn my keep.

“I’ll guide you to your lodging…”

“We’ll do that later. First, I want to see the patients.”

If I’m just going to lounge around the lodging, didn’t I do that yesterday?

Since it’s morning, I wanted to quickly get the report done.

“Oxymoron, are you alright with checking the patients first before confirming the lodging?”

“I’m fine with that too!”

Surprisingly, a voice echoed surprisingly far away. Turning to the sound, she was holding onto a cart, making calculations.

“She says it’s fine.”

“Ah, then you can go directly to that area. The password is…”

“I already know, so it’s fine.”

Most likely that password.

“For the convenience of not doing a round trip, I’ll ask you for just the first sentence.”

Surprisingly efficient.

“This is how to block the neck…”

“Yes. Confirmed.”

How much does that Cursed King love that line, I wonder.

There aren’t many places where the Cursed King is responsible for security, so it’s a good thing. If he were involved as much as the Infinite Architect or the Librian, the security of the Association would be like an open door.

“Oxymoron! Let’s go!”

“Wait! I think I can fix this!”

“Finish it quickly!”

Eventually, the soldier who received treatment from Oxymoron regained consciousness.

The awakened soldier briefly despaired at the fact he had been unconscious for 5 long years, but soon expressed gratitude to Oxymoron, saying waking up is better than nothing.

After that chaos, we entered the elevator we boarded.

“If you can operate on others, can you awaken them like that?”

If that’s the case, Oxymoron would probably be overwhelmed with work now. But the Association might like it.

“Probably difficult? The soldier’s head had a fragment left inside, so it ended easily. I’m not sure why the other medical staff didn’t find that fragment.”

“However.”

Ordinary people can’t see through heads like you can.

In that conversation, the fast-moving box continued to descend.

Toward the deeper underground.

To the place where most of the patients in that branch are housed.

The door opened, and we stepped out of the elevator.

Perhaps to save electricity, only very dim lights lit the hallway.

Thud. Whoosh.

The elevator door behind us closed, and as it rose again, we were left in the faint darkness.

Clip. Clip.

Only the sound of footsteps reflected, spreading in all directions.

A quiet and damp place like an underground tomb.

Walking that path, our hearts returned to that moment…

“Uugh! Otherworldly stink! What is this foul odor?! Poyoo!”

A sudden wild beast jumped out and ruined the entire atmosphere.

…What the hell.

“Uugh! I can’t stand the stink! What is this…”

“It’s the Otherworld plague. Didn’t you see it back in the day?”

I wondered if they knew anything, having had patients face it before.

Just like Unho, they muttered that they didn’t know anything.

“Oh! That’s it! It smelled similar to something from back then…”

“Smell? Can you elaborate more on that?”

“Poyoo?”

She unexpectedly cut in.

“Is it the stench of the Otherworld? Does that mean the power has rotted?”

“Yes? Roughly speaking…”

“That means the power can rot, right? Then could you tell me what happens when it decays….”

“Oh, as for that…”

The hallway began to fill with conversation.

Where did the quiet attitude of mourning go, leaving only an academic atmosphere.

Does it even matter? Even if I express my condolences, there’s no one to accept it.

After a brief while filled with noisy chatter, we reached the yellow door.

The seal of the Cursed King.

“Who’s going to do it?”

“I don’t know the full text.”

“What is that? Poyoo?”

…Unho, who isn’t much help, and did Oxymoron not know either?

“Since you often come here, who’s been opening the doors each time you come?”

“The person in charge here?”

Oh, I see.

It’s wrong of me to expect something from these dimwits.

Reluctantly, I turned my head and began to recite.

A bizarrely patterned yellow door.

The prologue of the Cursed King’s play.

Corresponding lines.

“To block the neck with a circle…”

The door began to emit light.

“The corresponding words of the leading role…”

The door gazed at me.

“An elongated neck is a skirt to me…”

The door observed me.

“Through this, the curtain rises…”

The door briefly determined me.

By the gaze of the Cursed King. Whether I’m the person who can sit in the leading position by rightful claim.

A brief time passed.

Gulp.

The yellow door transformed into slime, crumbling through the gaps.

“Let’s go.”

“What was that just now? Poyoo?”

“I don’t know.”

We crossed through the door.

After a series of ups and downs, we reached the gray ward.

A place where only nurses can roam, with no healthy people in sight.

The endless line of white beds aligned perfectly evoked a sense of awe.

It was shortly after we entered the entrance, but even with a slight turn of the gaze, another bed occupied the deranged place.

Next to it, I saw a patient taking an eternal rest.

Unaware of the reality he is trapped in, he was dreaming.

However, observing closely, his posture looked quite awkward.

He wasn’t lying properly, nor was he entirely turned sideways; it was a bizarre stance.

Thinking it would be uncomfortable to stay like that, I reached out to adjust his position.

And the moment my hand touched the patient.

“Lady Haram, step away from there!”

The last thing I heard was Unho’s scream mixed with panic.

(Gotcha!)

It was a sticky situation that clung to my ears and wouldn’t let go.

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