"Whoever thought a hospital bed could feel this comfortable?"
I sank deeper into the mattress, letting out a slow, satisfied sigh.
If I could, I would bury myself into this bed and never get up again.
I vaguely recalled reading somewhere that using overly soft mattresses in hospitals could lead to secondary injuries —but right now, I didn't care. If this bed wanted to slowly kill my spine, so be it. I'd die happy.
I stared at the ceiling, one arm draped over my stomach, the other dangling off the side of the bed. My entire body ached in that pleasant, post-survival kind of way—like I'd been run over by a truck, but the truck had almost been polite about it.
The dull throb in my ribs reminded me that I'd very nearly died.
And more importantly, Lena had made sure I got here.
I hadn't seen her since she dropped me off. One moment she was glaring daggers at the nurse for touching me without gloves, the next she was gone.
Part of me expected that.
At the moment she must be reporting chairman about what at doungen.
I wonder what she saying about me?
"Probably something terrifying," I muttered to myself.
Lena wasn't the type to mince words, and from what I'd seen, the Chairman wasn't the type to accept sugar-coated reports either. I imagined her standing in that cold, polished office, arms crossed, eyes sharp as ever, and that signature edge in her voice as she said something like—
"He's reckless. Untrained. Completely unequipped to handle the situation."
Yep. That sounded about right.
I groaned and shifted in the bed, pulling the blanket up to my chin. The motion made my ribs twinge again, but I didn't complain. If Lena had gone through all that trouble to drag me here, then I'd at least try to look like I wasn't wasting her effort.
Still, I couldn't help but wonder what she really thought of me.
Did she see me as dead weight?
Some random cadet who just happened to survive?
Or did… did it matter to her?
I shook my head. "Don't overthink it."
Lena was probably reporting the facts, plain and simple. That's who she was—clinical, precise, all business. The kind of person who wouldn't let personal feelings interfere with a debriefing. She'd list what happened, explain how I helped briefly, and that'd be it.
Anyway I put aside that thought and thought about upcoming Academy life that I was giving to live.
...That place is filled with denger.
"At least I have Professor Lena on my side from now on."
That should be fine, right?
She was undercover, so she had to be careful, but her influence would still help.
Having a high-ranking professor looking out for me definitely couldn't hurt.
I stared at the ceiling for a moment, feeling oddly at ease.
An annoying little nagging sensation started creeping in the back of my mind.
Like I was forgetting something important.
I frowned slightly, trying to remember.
[Interfering with the plotline by stealing artifacts meant for specific characters.]
I let out a quiet groan, closing my eyes.
I had been wondering when that damn voice would make an appearance again.
Ever since I messed with the storyline in the prologue, this disembodied narrator or whatever it was kept nagging me every time I made a major deviation from the original plot.
I stared at the ceiling in defeat.
"Let's see what kind of punishment I'm in for this time..."
I let out a long sigh, mentally preparing myself.
After all, stealing artifacts meant for specific characters was bound to have some consequences, right?
[Checking for plot damage caused by artifact theft...]
[No significant damage detected.]
[The character originally intended to obtain the stolen artifacts holds no major narrative relevance beyond this arc.]
[No timeline correction required.]
[Warning issued. Future infractions may not be tolerated as leniently.]
That was… anticlimactic.
I blinked a few times at the ceiling, processing the information.
"So… I'm off the hook?"
The voice—cold, neutral, and just a little too smug—faded out again, leaving behind an eerie silence in its wake.
I exhaled slowly, feeling the tension bleed out of my limbs.
"Could've at least pretended to be scary," I muttered, reaching up to rub my eyes. "You're starting to lose your edge, System."
I swung my legs off the side of the bed and sat up, stretching my arms until my spine popped. The soreness was still there, but it was dull now, bearable. The kind of pain that reminded me I was still breathing.
"Well... looks like everything's fine for now."
For once, no sudden ambushes.
No unexpected curses.
I was about to roll of to bed when —
I blinked and turned toward the faint, obnoxious sound of a default ringtone blaring from my pocket.
The one I didn't even know existed until Professor Lena, the same woman who had hospitalized me, forced me to find it and enter her number.
She had shoved the device into my hands with a flat glare, muttering something about "staying in touch" before stomping off.
They gave one to every academy student, apparently.
A sleek, black rectangle with a lightweight frame, powered by a combination of spirit circuitry and standard arcane cores.
The thing barely had any signal outside the capital—unless you juiced it with Primal Qi or slapped a magic crystal into it.
I fished it out of my pocket, the screen lighting up with a name.
I was expecting to that it was Lena who called me but I was wrong .
The screen flashed with an unknown number.
I stared at it for a moment, debating whether to pick up.
I swiped the screen and held it to my ear.
"[I heard you were hospitalized?]"
My brows furrowed slightly.
I knew a very small number of people in this world, and this definitely wasn't one of them.
Her voice was smooth, almost melodic, but with a faint sharpness beneath it.
But a little too casual.
For a moment, the only thing I could hear was the quiet hum of the hospital's mana filtration system. I pulled the phone slightly away from my ear to check if the call had dropped.
"[You're slower than I expected. Did that little dungeon wear you out so much?]"
My grip tightened instinctively.
The voice was calm. Teasing, even. But it carried a weight I couldn't quite place—like she wasn't just poking fun, but measuring me at the same time.
"Seriously, who are you?"
"[Tch. Still as blunt as ever, I see. That's fine. I prefer straightforward types.]"
She was dodging the question again.
I scanned my memories—had I met her in the dungeon? Someone who might've seen me using the ring? A spy? An agent from one of the other academies?
Or worse... someone from the plotline I hadn't reached yet?
"[Anyway, you're lucky. Had professor not stepped in when they did, you'd be in a coffin instead of that fluffy mattress you're so attached to.]"
Her tone darkened just slightly near the end, a subtle edge in her voice now.
She knew where I was.
Even what I'd said moments ago.
"...Are you watching me?"
"[No. Not personally. But you're important to someone who's very good at keeping tabs.]" She paused. "[Consider this your warning. Don't do anything stupid from now on.]"
"Just tell me who are you?"
A quiet exhale on the other end, like she was holding back a scoff.
And then, in a slightly mocking tone, she answered,
"[Hah... It seems you really don't remember me.]"
My eyes narrowed slightly.
There was something off about her voice.
It wasn't just the irritation—it was familiar, in a way I couldn't quite place.
I didn't know this woman.
And yet... there was an odd feeling of déjà vu crawling down my spine.
I glanced at the artifacts in my hand, then back at the phone.
My instincts were prickling, warning me that this was no casual call.
"Look," I said flatly, my fingers tightening around the phone, "if you've got something to say, say it. I'm busy."
There was a brief beat of silence.
And then... she chuckled softly.
"[Oh... you're busy, huh?]"
Her voice was mockingly sweet now, the faintest trace of condescension slipping through.
"[Well then... don't worry. I'll call you back later, Rin.]"
I slowly lowered the phone from my ear, staring at the screen.
A chill crept down my spine.
I didn't recognize her voice.
But she knew my name.
And more importantly—she had said it so casually, with a confidence that sent a faint pulse of unease through my chest.
I stared at the black screen for a moment longer.
Then, without a word, I slipped the phone back into my pocket.
"Tch... What the hell was that?"
The silence after the call felt too heavy.
Like the air itself had changed.
I sat there, still as stone, my hand resting against my pocket as if the phone might buzz again. But it didn't. Of course it didn't. Whoever she was, she'd said what she wanted to say—and left behind a mess of questions.
I slowly leaned back, my head hitting the pillow with a soft thud, but my eyes didn't drift back to the ceiling this time.
They were wide open, alert.
"She said I don't remember her..." I muttered under my breath.
Which meant we'd met.
Or rather—he had met her.
The one whose name I'd stolen when I took his place in this world.
There were still gaps in my memory—things I hadn't figured out about this world, and the version of Rin who'd lived here before I arrived. And if she knew that Rin… then she might know things I didn't. Things I wasn't supposed to know.
I clenched a fist under the blanket.
There was something almost playful in her voice. Not just mockery—something deeper. A familiarity. A history.
One that wasn't mine.
I pushed myself up straighter in the bed, the soreness in my ribs flaring again. I ignored it.
"Who the hell are you?" I murmured, thinking back to the voice again.
No face. No name. Just tone, cadence, and the slight edge of mockery.
She said I was important to someone.
Who else was watching me from the shadows?
Was this another player? A rogue character? One of those 'observers' the System hinted about?
Or was she something worse?