"Where is..."
When Greg slowly lifted his heavy eyelids, the first thing that caught his eye was neither the dim luminescent moss on the dungeon rock walls nor the dark gray canvas roof of a camp tent, but beams of sunlight carrying the distinctive warmth of early morning.
They penetrated clean glass windows, forming clearly visible pillars of light in the air. Countless motes of dust floated quietly within the light pillars, finally casting slanted, bright, warm spots of light onto the snowy-white bedsheets.
The sight was so ordinary, so unremarkable—a scene that could be witnessed on any given morning.
But at this moment, resting in Greg's eyes, it brought a long-absent, almost unfamiliar sense of novelty.
He froze for several seconds before his muddled brain sluggishly processed the information.
"Holy crap!"
A sudden shock, like a bucket of ice water poured over his head, instantly dispersed his remaining sleepiness and faintness. Greg snapped upright in bed—a movement so abrupt it pulled at several faintly aching wounds, forcing him to gasp out loud.
"To directly see such clear morning light... this definitely can't be inside the dungeon! Where on earth am I?!"
Uncertain and startled, he quickly looked around.
The room wasn't large, its walls a monotonous white.
A faint smell of disinfectant hung in the air.
Beneath him was a slightly hard white hospital bed, covered with a thin white blanket stiffened from laundering.
Beside it stood a metal IV stand hanging half a bag of transparent liquid, with thin tubing connected to the indwelling needle on the back of his hand.
Simple wooden tables and chairs sat in the corner of the room, with an empty glass cup on the table.
"Is this a hospital?"
Fragments of memory began to flood back.
The intense battle in the abandoned cabin, the hooded Demon, the advanced shadow power, the pain of consuming Outer God power, Silvia's embrace, the female voice that abruptly appeared at the end... and then total darkness.
"Looks like certain scourges really don't die easily. After lying unconscious for a full day and night, you actually woke up on your own."
A familiar voice came from the other side of the room.
Greg snapped his head toward the sound.
It was Victoria.
She was standing beside another hospital bed near the window, briskly folding a few changes of clothes and stuffing them into a somewhat worn canvas backpack.
She had already swapped out her hospital gown for the academy uniform issued not long ago. Her right arm was still suspended in a sling against her chest, but her complexion looked much better than during his last visit—at least her face had regained a great deal of color.
Only, for some reason, she currently exuded an inexplicable weariness.
Sweeping her gray-blue eyes over Greg with a flat gaze, she returned her focus to organizing her belongings.
On the hospital bed where she had originally been lying, a pink figure was curled up, breathing evenly, clearly fast asleep.
It was Silvia.
She seemed utterly exhausted. Even in her sleep, her brow remained slightly furrowed, her long pink eyelashes casting faint shadows under her eyelids, and tear tracks still wet on her cheeks.
"I've... been unconscious here for a full day and night?!"
Greg repeated in shock, his voice somewhat raspy from thirst.
He instinctively felt his chest and arms, confirming that aside from a few bandaged scrapes and sprains, as well as a faint sense of weakness from near-depleted internal mana, there didn't seem to be any severe injuries.
"During this time... did nothing really happen?"
He couldn't help asking further, feeling inexplicably guilty inside—especially considering his abysmal -10 Luck stat while remaining unconscious on the surface for so long...
Victoria stopped folding clothes, looked up, and cast a strange glance at him.
"How did you know... yesterday here was indeed far from peaceful?"
She seemed to recall something as her gray eyes instantly lost focus, turning somewhat hollow, her tone drifting as if recounting a nightmare she couldn't bear to look back on.
"For instance, about three hours after you went unconscious, the metal IV stand at the head of your bed snapped cleanly at the weld joints without warning. The heavy stand, along with the medicine bottle and monitoring equipment on it, slammed straight toward your head. I had no choice but to dive over and block it with my back and uninjured arm. I reckon my back still has a giant bruise on it right now."
"Or like last night, when the nurse brought dinner, a wheel on the cart suddenly fell off, causing the whole thing to flip toward your bed. Hot soup and eating utensils came flying straight at your face... I had to use wind magic to blow everything away, which tore my wound and left me unable to sleep past midnight from the pain."
"Or early this morning, a bizarre cat—jet-black all over with dark red eyes—snuck in out of nowhere. Trying to chase it out got me bitten hard, forcing me to go get a preventative shot in the middle of the night."
With every story she told, her tone grew a degree more numb, her eyes a degree more hollow. Finally, as if drained of all strength, she let out a deep sigh and rubbed the space between her brows.
"In short... all sorts of minor accidents barely ceased. I am now absolutely, 100 percent certain that I definitely, definitely do not want to spend even one more night in this hospital room."
Victoria's gaze refocused onto Greg, filled with a resolve akin to surviving a calamity, along with a barely lingering trace of fear:
"Otherwise, I have no doubt that very soon, due to some mind-boggling accident, I'll turn into an injured patient needing long-term hospital observation again."
Greg: "..."
He listened dumbfounded, a layer of cold sweat breaking out across his back.
Except for the third incident where he knew who the culprit was, the other two sounded like a budget version of Final Destination!
No need to guess—it was 100% his damned negative Luck stat continuing to perform steadily and take effect while he was unconscious!
And Victoria... had actually tanked all those accidents with her unhealed, injured body and sheer stubborn will, preventing his unconscious self from kicking the bucket on the spot...
A surge of intense guilt and lingering fear welled up in his heart.
He opened his mouth, unsure of what to say for a moment, before finally squeezing out a dry sentence:
"Uh... well... thank you so much for your hard work."
Victoria shook her head, seemingly unwilling to accept the thanks, or perhaps feeling the gratitude was meaningless.
"You don't need to thank me. It's not like these things happening... were your fault."
Her tone restored to its usual flatness, she went back to packing her backpack, shoving the last few odd bits inside.
Greg gave a sheepish smile, not daring to reply.
Not his fault?
It was entirely because of him!
This gray-haired Hero had truly taken the hit of an unwarranted disaster on his behalf this time, and while still recovering from severe injuries no less... This favor he owed was a bit too huge.
Rate on N.U.
