episode_0099

Just as we overcame the bacteria and viruses that once plagued mankind, such as the Black Death and measles, modern medicine and treatment technology are constantly developing and advancing.

It was the same even after the outbreak of the extradimensional rift incident.

The medical community, which had been at a standstill for a while after the mysterious powers of the Awakened and the healing effects of abilities like [Skill] came to the fore and the theory of their uselessness spread, began to grit their teeth and work to improve the field as if nothing had happened.

The expanded functions and diversified knowledge based on research and utilization of unknown material resources from other worlds and the bodies of the Awakened presented them with new possibilities.

Ironically, the world’s greatest threat was also another opportunity.

Humanity has successfully overcome diseases that were previously considered incurable or incurable, and has even succeeded in overcoming cancer cells, which were thought to be decades away.

However, even so, there were clearly some things that could not be helped. These included the revival of those who had already passed away, the restoration of dead nerve and brain functions, and the loss of bodily functions such as arms, legs, and hair.

No matter how much prosthetic limbs are developed, they can never be exactly the same as the original body. Far from regaining sensation and returning to society, they can only help people in their daily lives with limited functions. The fact that they cost astronomical amounts to manufacture them is a secondary problem, making them difficult to commercialize.

It is a natural law. It was a realm of miracle, creation, not recovery. How can man dare to reach God?

But now, inside a blacksmith shop located halfway up a small mountain.

An individual who was not even a medical student, an artisan who had lived only with iron and a hammer, was challenging the work of God, however imperfectly.

Blacksmith. His name is–his profession is to create and manufacture things.

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“… Almost done.”

Sihyuk stood for a moment, his face pale from overwork, showing a deep sense of satisfaction, and looked at the work I had created.

The artwork on the shelf was made of bones made of [magic iron], each joint assembled, and numerous [synthetic materials] that replaced the muscles that were neatly trimmed and tangled and connected to each part.

The lines of mana path that replaced the nerves engraved above them, which had become one body and took the shape of an ‘arm’, were drawn tightly like an anchovy net and gave off red and blue lights.

When he tried to inject a small amount of mana into it, the ‘arm’ moved around on its own as if it were alive, flapping around until the mana ran out.

The work, which was created after going through trial and error and adding and adding several times to embody all the movements and actions of a human being, really resembled the human body and the contents under the skin from the outside. When you look at it, you feel a strange sense of dissonance and even feel uneasy. It was the so-called uncanny valley.

Shihyuk nodded. It was natural.

Because it was an object that was once made to replace the arm that a young girl’s father had lost.

Anyway, now it was really the end of the work. All that was left was to reinforce the missing parts a little and create a skin to replace it. He lifted the hammer and-

He fell again and collapsed on the floor.

“… … .”

No, it would be more appropriate to say that he collapsed or fell over. He had been holding on for a long time, but when he thought that the work was coming to an end, his legs gave out and he collapsed.

It was an oversight. Shihyuk thought as he tried to get up again, but the floor was slippery as if someone had sprayed detergent all over the workshop, and he felt no strength in his hands or feet.

The hand that tried to stand up was cramping. The guy was complaining of rest, his body turning black from repeated micro-fractures and internal bleeding during the harsh work.

That wasn’t all. He shivered as goosebumps spread from his temples to his earlobes, from his jaw joint to the tip of his chin, and from the back of his neck to the tips of his shoulders, and then all over his back.

My teeth chattered and chattered in the bitter cold, and my head hurt so much that it felt like someone had drilled a hole in my skull and poured alcohol directly into it, and my thoughts were dulled by fatigue and a headache.

“… … .”

The tension was released, the tense nerves returned, and the belated backlash of pain was tremendous.

Shihyuk frowned and pressed his hands to his eyes.

Like dividing the tip of a single hair into several strands and tying them together to tie the legs of a fox, or counting each grain of sand one by one.

It was a detailed and precise task that required a high level of concentration. My eyes were burning due to the pressure in my eyes that had increased unnecessarily as I continued to look at [Magic Iron] and Mana Pass for the final version. If I didn’t force myself to press down, it felt like it would just fall out.

Suddenly, something lukewarm and ticklish ran down his nostrils and wet his lips.

I stick my tongue out to take a taste and it tastes like salty, heavy metal. I peek with the back of my hand and see bright red blood mixed with sweat, reflecting off the fluorescent lights.

Shihyuk raised his head for a moment and gulped down the blood from the back of his throat. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but he felt like the feeling of his intestines twisting had gone away a little, perhaps because he had swallowed something in his stomach that had not eaten anything.

“After.”

No, perhaps that was the problem. Suddenly, he felt his stomach churn. His back shook and he unconsciously felt strength in his stomach. The sour gastric juice that had inevitably risen up felt like a lump of lead, and he had to struggle to put it back in.

… it’s okay.

If I were to rate the burden I felt while making [Wildflower] as an 8 or 9, and the burden I felt while making [Journey] as a 10, then it would be around this level, but it was still only a 5 or 6.

Well, isn’t that how it’s always been? Doing my best. Sacrificing my soul. Not caring if my body breaks down.

This happened every time he created a piece. Now, the pain that had been overwhelming Sihyuk was making him happy to see his old life companion again after a long time.

It’s still far away. We can continue.

Contrary to his feelings, he was barely able to get up after falling down on his buttocks several times like a baby who couldn’t walk. He tried to stand up unsteadily, shaking, but that was all he could do.

As soon as he reached out to the shelf, Si-hyuk stumbled and fell, hitting his chin on the floor.

“… … .”

The unexpected shock stung, and my limbs that had been working hard began to tingle and hurt. My body had become weaker as if something had gone wrong due to the collision, and my muscles, sweating profusely, hardened like a turtle shell and tightened endlessly under my skin.

He was frozen like a rat caught in a high-voltage wire, and he lay there for a while like a dead man, unable to move an inch.

The floor that touched my excited forehead felt relatively cool compared to the inside of the workshop that was filled with residual heat. It would be nice to cool down my fiery body, but that would be impossible.

Shihyuk clicked his tongue. This was not the time. He was just going to lie down and take a leisurely breath. He had no time to feel weak. He forcefully whipped his body that refused to get up.

That was when.

[That bastard…]

“… … ?”

Sihyuk, who had been rolling around on the floor, raised his head. His voice was deeply depressed and gloomy. It was so hoarse and rough that it scratched his earlobes, as if he had swallowed boiling water. It was so uncomfortable to listen to.

What the heck. I must have been the only one in the blacksmith shop.

[You idiot, why are you raising your head? Just crawl on the ground and wiggle like a bug.]

He heard it again. It was certain. There was something. The reprimand, filled with anger, was coming from a shady corner, a sharp corner of the blacksmith shop, where the fluorescent lights did not reach. Could it be that someone else, like Yu Hee-ah, was hiding in his living quarters?

“Who are you?”

[Ugh.]

The bastard made a sound that was either a sigh or a hollow laugh, then straightened his crouching body and slowly walked into his field of vision.

You could tell at a glance that he was uncomfortable moving around in his jerky movements.

The precarious gait seemed more like dragging than lifting a foot. The body, which had suffered from harsh labor bordering on abuse or self-harm, had worn out all its joints and was struggling to move.

His skinny arms and legs, reminiscent of dried fish, and his upper body revealed through his shabby clothes that resembled rags, looked so miserable that if you put your finger in his ribs and looked down, you would almost hear the sound of beans frying.

The body, which has no fat or even oil, has no shine and even no muscle, is tough and flabby, and the flesh, which has little substance inside, sags like a half-washed rag with nothing to fill it with.

The back that had to be always hunched over was so hunched that it resembled a camel’s hump. The man, with his turtle neck and cervical vertebrae almost touching the back of his head, was completely exposed and stood looking at Sihyuk.

“… … .”

[If you ask who I am, who do I look like?]

High cheekbones and thick eye shadows that stick out because the cheekbones are close together. And poisonous eyes.

His unkempt hair was stiff and tangled. His pale face and pale complexion were covered more than half by thick-rimmed glasses, which made his sunken, haggard eyes look even more gloomy and dead-fish-like.

It was familiar. It was impossible not to know. It was the metal plate I always knocked on, the face I always encountered reflected on its surface. It was a familiar, shabby appearance.

It was Shihyuk himself. Something from the past was looking down at him, wearing a scar.