Through the glass door, the clock was visible. If he couldn’t eat a proper meal, he should at least grab a piece of bread. He’d better head out soon, make a quick stop at the infirmary, and then head to the dining hall. No, wait—grabbing the bread at the dining hall first and eating it on the way to the infirmary would probably be more efficient.

“I wonder what’s broken on this one this time…… This morning, it was an arm, so if we’re keeping things balanced, it’ll probably be a leg this time.”

Out of 10, 7 or 8 would get away with minor injuries to their arms or legs, while the unlucky 2 or 3 would end up relying on the infirmary for something more serious. That guy earlier had picked a fight with Ilay, but since it was Taeui who had borne the brunt of it, it seemed likely the injuries would remain limited to something as minor as arms or legs. Somehow, he felt like he’d sacrificed himself to save that guy. It wouldn’t be surprising if he turned into a relic after death. With that less-than-pleasant thought lingering in his mind, Taeui stepped out of the shower room.

After rinsing under the hot water, his knee, which had seemed to improve slightly, was once again securely wrapped in a brace. The refreshing feeling of being freshly showered lifted his spirits ever so slightly, brushing away the gloom of the morning, if only by a fingernail’s width.

Taeui stepped out of the bathroom, ruffling his still-damp hair with his hand, even after toweling it off. After glancing at the clock, he headed toward the dining hall. He figured it would be perfect to grab a couple of pieces of bread, eat on the way to the infirmary, and then head straight into his afternoon duties. It wasn’t long before he realized that an unexpected flaw had crept into that plan.

No one could have predicted the situation. Perhaps even the person who started it hadn’t expected it either.

By the time Taeui reached the dining hall, an uneasy stillness hung in the air. No, it wasn’t exactly silence—there was a faint murmur of low sullen voices whispering back and forth. It only felt quiet because it lacked the usual lunchtime clamor. Even without anyone saying a word, it was clear—something had happened. Taeui’s lips tightened into a frown as he slowed his steps. There was only one plausible guess: Ilay and that man.

“Must not have been a light injury……” – Taeui clicked his tongue. Everyone knew what kind of state that cruel person – who never showed an ounce of mercy – left those who dared to challenge him. Every few days, someone new would step up, only to meet the same fate. By now, injuries that weren’t severe enough didn’t even qualify as gossip anymore.

What a bleak and chilling atmosphere…… Surely no one died, right?

Maybe he should’ve gone to the infirmary first instead of worrying about bread. Yet even amidst these thoughts, Taeui figured he might as well grab something to eat since he was already here and stepped into the dining hall. That’s when it happened. Just as someone finished their meal and slid their tray into the return slot, Taeui came face-to-face with a familiar figure.

Since Taeui had taken on the role of being Ilay’s Assistant Instructor, he had grown distant from his teammates. Among them, some occasionally gave him pitying glances or tapped him lightly on the shoulder in passing. Others outright ignored him, and some were even angrier at Taeui than at Ilay himself, yelling at him in frustration. The face he had just encountered belonged to someone from the ignoring camp, though leaning slightly toward the former category.

“Tou.”

When Taeui called his name, the man stopped in his tracks, his face twisting slightly into a subtle grimace.

“Why’s the atmosphere so heavy? Did something happen while I was gone? ……He didn’t kill someone, did he?”

As always, Taeui spoke casually, just as he used to with his teammates, completely unfazed by whether the other person chose to ignore him or not. But even as the words left his mouth, he could already sense that something was off.

Normally, Tou would click his tongue in disapproval and walk past without bothering to reply, or at most, toss out a half-hearted remark that barely qualified as a response. But now, he was looking at Taeui with an expression that could only be described as…… peculiar. There was no better word for it—his face was genuinely, unmistakably strange.

It wasn’t just anger. In some ways, he almost looked amused. Yet, there was no hint of a smile. His expression seemed both dark and subdued, yet strangely restless, as though teetering between agitation and unease. There was even a trace of anxiety, perhaps worry, lurking in his gaze.

“Hey, what’s with you?” – Taeui asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

Taeui frowned slightly and asked again. Tou seemed to hesitate, as if carefully choosing his words. Just as he finally opened his mouth to speak, another familiar face approached from behind him. It was Nobuo, also a member of the same team. While Taeui hadn’t often spoken with him, they had maintained a certain level of camaraderie as teammates. However, Nobuo harbored an intense hatred for Ilay.

Because of that, after Taeui became Ilay’s Assistant Instructor, Nobuo was among those who lashed out at him with sharp and biting curses. He wasn’t exactly someone Taeui was eager to deal with, but the strange tension in the air stirred an uneasy feeling in his chest. Unable to shake it, Taeui turned to Nobuo and asked again.

“Nobu, what happened? Did that guy…… finally kill someone?”

That was the only thing Taeui could think of. But even that didn’t seem quite right. The atmosphere didn’t quite match the kind of tension that came from someone being gravely injured. What was this unsettling feeling? No——unsettling wasn’t the right word. This was more like…… discomfort. A gloomy unpleasant sensation that crept up from his ankles like a slow, crawling shadow. The answer came soon enough. Nobuo, looking irritated, abruptly spat out his response.

“He didn’t kill him. Just made it so he’ll never see again for the rest of his life.”

“What……?”

Taeui couldn’t find any words to respond. He just stared at Nobuo, stunned into silence. After seeing this, Nobuo clicked his tongue in frustration, then added in a mocking tone.

“Want me to just give you the result, or are you curious about the details? I happened to be on the inside of the railing at the time. I saw everything, from start to finish. I even saw exactly which eye he clawed and with which finger. I can tell you as much as you want. What else do you want to know?”

Taeui said nothing, only staring at him in silence. When he turned his gaze to Tou, Tou grimaced bitterly, his lips curling downward. 

That damned bastard’s gone and done it again. Eyes—this time it’s the eyes. Not something mundane like an arm or a leg, so of course, he managed to catch everyone off guard. Taeui lowered his head. It was moments like this that made him feel tempted to sympathize with the countless colleagues inside the dining hall.

Perhaps one could argue that it was better than losing a life, but the eyes were a completely different matter from arms or legs. Unlike a limb, they weren’t something that would heal naturally or recover fully even with treatment. Worse still, losing one’s vision meant being unable to properly manage daily life. Though compensation for such injuries incurred within the division was said to be substantial enough to alleviate concerns about one’s future, there were things money simply couldn’t fix.

“That lunatic……”

The curse slipped out on its own. Taeui already knew, but he felt it keenly once again. Anger surged within him, uncontrollable and raw.

“Why the hell did he have to ruin someone’s eyes? He could’ve just stuck to breaking arms or legs like he usually does! Why the eyes, damn it! Instructor or not, that bastard needs to rot in the detention cells for a while!”

In the eyes of someone who doesn’t see others as human, then what exactly do people look like to them? Taeui had wondered about this for a long time. He wasn’t about to preach idealism, but there were undoubtedly certain fundamental ethics that every person should abide by. Yet, some lived entirely detached from such principles. Taeui didn’t hate Ilay as a person. But there was no denying that this particular side of him was one Taeui deeply disliked.

To hell with bread—he should’ve run straight to the infirmary. No, better yet, he should’ve stayed right there, even if it meant getting drenched in filth, and watched everything to the end. Or perhaps he should’ve taken the initiative, landed a punch square on that bastard’s face, and dragged him to the infirmary himself. Taeui clutched at his head in frustration. And now, that damned lunatic was probably lounging somewhere, casually eating his meal without a care in the world. If that smug face were in front of him right now, he’d gladly take a swing at it.

“Ilay…… where is that bastard?”

Taeui muttered to himself, not really expecting an answer—they wouldn’t know, after all. But surprisingly, a reply came almost immediately.

“He’s probably lying in the infirmary. Ha, serve him right. Might as well just die already, that scumbag.”

Nobuo replied through gritted teeth. Though his words sounded like a triumphant laugh, his eyes burned cold and sharp, brimming with anger—as if even that wasn’t enough to satisfy him.

Taeui tilted his head slowly, confusion flickering across his face. For a moment, the words didn’t make sense to him.

“The infirmary…… Ilay?”

It sounded like Ilay, not the other guy, was the one in the infirmary, but the idea was so unimaginable that Taeui asked again. Tou was standing nearby, he added: “They’re probably both in the infirmary”, but even that failed to clear up his confusion.

Seeking an explanation, Taeui turned to Tou. Tou clicked his tongue, his expression uneasy, and muttered irritably, as if the whole thing were a bother.

“He stabbed him in the side. He had a knife. Even after getting his eye gouged out by Rick, that idiot didn’t even bother protecting himself and slashed his side instead. That’s why his eye ended up like that…… Damn fool.”

Tou’s anger was palpable, almost tangible. Half of it was directed at Ilay, and the other half at their teammate. He was furious at the sheer stupidity of a comrade who had been willing to suffer even greater harm to himself just to inflict injury on Ilay.

Taeui still couldn’t quite wrap his head around the situation and looked back and forth between them. Ilay had destroyed the man’s eye. In turn, the man had stabbed Ilay in the side. Nobuo had spat: “Might as well just die already.”

“……Must’ve been a deep wound, huh?” – Taeui muttered, his voice low.

Taeui muttered absently. Perhaps Ilay was more seriously injured than he had initially thought. Maybe that was the reason for this uneasy, restless tension hanging in the air, buzzing with a faint sense of dread.

Ilay had been gravely injured—dangerously so.

It was impossible to imagine. It felt almost like they were joking, or as if he were trapped in a dream. Then Nobuo raised his voice, so loud and sharp, teetering between laughter and rage.

“Ha, yeah, he got stabbed! But not that deep. Just going by the wound itself, it’s not life-threatening. That monster of a man won’t die, that’s for sure. But he’s going to suffer, oh, he’ll suffer plenty. By now, the toxins on the knife have probably made their way through his whole system. Yeah, I’d love to see it—see that lunatic finally drop dead from it all!”

Taeui closed his mouth, saying nothing. He was finally beginning to grasp the situation. The man had lost his eye, and in exchange, he had put Ilay – though to what extent was unclear – in a dangerous position.

Taeui found himself sympathizing with Tou’s anger. It wasn’t about whether he knew the man or Ilay—this was a matter beyond personal connections. What the man had done was foolish. To throw away the rest of his life just to vent his rage, without considering how much such an act would sadden those around him, was reckless. Gritting his teeth, Taeui bowed his head bitterly. Things like this always seemed to happen in the brief moments when you took your eyes off the situation. Today, it really felt like some curse was at work.

What an unbelievably unlucky day.

He felt drained. His body felt as heavy as if it were weighed down by an anchor. No matter how many times it happened, he could never get used to this sensation.

“What’s wrong? Not happy that he got hurt? Does it bother you that he was stabbed? Even when there’s a guy who lost his eyes?”

In front of Taeui, Nobuo seemed to grow increasingly agitated, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he shouted. Taeui neither had the energy nor the intention to respond; he merely glanced at Nobuo out of the corner of his eye. But even that seemed to irritate him.

“Why don’t you go tell that bastard yourself—him, bleeding all over the floor after getting stabbed in the side? Go tell him: ‘Nobuo was glaring daggers at you.’ Who knows? Maybe he’ll decide to take out my other eye while he’s at it.”

“……Nobu, I get that you’re angry, but I don’t think I’m the one you should be taking it out on.”

Taeui sighed, his voice weary as he replied. But Nobuo wasn’t done. His mocking laughter grew louder and sharper.

“Why? After you disappeared, that lunatic stabbed his eyes out just for looking at you too long. Seems like both you and that crazy bastard are untouchable royalty or something, huh? Care to explain why?”

“Nobu, stop it.”

It was Tou who clicked his tongue and shouted briefly, as if trying to rein in Nobuo. But Nobuo shoved Tou’s hand away roughly as he tried to grab his arm and took another step closer to Taeui. His face twisted with malice as he loomed closer, but Taeui stayed silent, unwilling to turn the situation into an unnecessary fight.

“Does it feel good, groveling under that crazy European? Huh? Do you like it, you pathetic son of a bitch?!”

“Nobu!”

Tou spoke in a low voice, almost a shout. He probably sympathized with Nobuo’s words to some extent, but it was clear he wasn’t comfortable with how things were escalating.

Nobuo shot a fierce glare at Tou but refrained from lashing out at him. Breathing heavily, he stayed silent for a moment, then spat a short curse and turned away, as if unwilling to engage any further. But even then, unable to let go of his anger, he half-turned his head back and snarled, his words dripping with malice.

“It wasn’t your choice to become his Assistant? Then maybe you shouldn’t have let him leave those marks on your neck. Damn it, you think we don’t know what kind of dirty games you two are playing? Filthy bastards.”

“NOBU!”

Tou’s voice grew sharper, and even more forceful. But just as having said everything he wanted, Nobuo turned on his heel and stormed off without another glance. Tou clicked his tongue, casting a sidelong glance at Taeui before looking away.

The expression vanished from Taeui’s face. He simply stared silently at Nobuo’s retreating figure, his face devoid of any emotion. Meanwhile, Tou glanced at Taeui with an awkward, conflicted look before letting out a sigh that was almost a groan and turning away.

So that’s it. That’s the kind of talk that’s been going around.

Taeui leaned against the wall, lightly bumping his head against it. His heavy head felt even heavier now. The rumors always had a way of growing beyond the truth. A single trivial detail could balloon into something far larger and more distorted—that was the very nature of rumors. So, if people were speaking like that to his face, then somewhere out there, even more spiteful and malicious things were undoubtedly being said.

“……”

Taeui let out a sigh. It was what it was. There was nothing left in this division that could surprise him anymore.

“Ah…… but damn, this really leaves a bad taste in my mouth……”

If only he could round up those petty, narrow-minded fools, slap them across the face a few times, and drench them with cold water to snap them out of it. Then, after that, tie up the true culprit who had piled up all this resentment beyond measure, slap their face until it was swollen, and dunk their head into ice-cold water to knock some sense into them. That would be enough to satisfy him.

“How do they manage to gather only those kinds of people, UNHRDO? Was that damn personality test they make us take before joining just a way to weed out everyone else and gather all the worst ones?”

Taeui muttered to himself as he pushed off the wall. His body still felt drained, his steps weighed down as if they were made of lead, but he couldn’t just stand there forever.

Even if they were the kind of people he’d love to see dropped in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, he still had to check how badly they were hurt. Taeui wiped his dry eyes with the back of his hand and started walking.

**************************

It had never even crossed his mind.

Perhaps it was because he had grown accustomed to witnessing one unbelievable outcome after another, but Taeui had come to think of Ilay Riegrow as someone who neither got injured nor faced death. So, when he heard from Kyoho that Ilay was in an even more serious condition than the man whose eye had been gouged, Taeui was utterly stunned.

“One of his eyes is in pretty bad shape, but it won’t lead to complete blindness. We couldn’t handle it here, so we sent him outside for treatment. The real problem is Rick, though—”

Kyoho said this, his face tightening into a grimace.

“We’ll need to investigate further, but it looks like there was something dangerous on the knife. That tough bastard walked in here on his own two feet, even after getting slashed in the side, but the moment he reached the infirmary, he collapsed. The situation doesn’t look good.”

Behind Kyoho muttering with a click of his tongue, Taeui caught sight of Ilay lying on a bed. Seeing him lying down with his eyes closed in the presence of others felt strangely out of place. His pale, ghostly complexion looked almost like that of a corpse.

The word ‘corpse’ sprang to Taeui’s mind, but he immediately shook his head, as if to banish the thought. Perhaps it was because the idea seemed so unfitting for that man—he didn’t want to entertain it.

Even Kyoho, the one who was always muttering: “Why won’t that lunatic just disappear already?” under his breath, seemed equally baffled and incredulous about the situation. Still, his expression wasn’t exactly pleased or amused—it was more of an irritated grimace…… Perhaps, Taeui thought, it was simply because this meant more work for him. Taeui was about to ask something else, but before he could, Kyoho, looking flustered, started shoving him away impatiently. “Move, move! I’ve got enough to deal with already.”

“How would I know right now? I need to check to find out! Go do your job and stop loitering around here—it’s cramped enough as it is!”

With that scolding, Taeui was unceremoniously pushed out of the infirmary. He stood there for a moment, staring blankly at the door, before letting out a sigh and turning to head off for his afternoon duties. After all, there was nothing he could do to help by staying there.

All afternoon, the atmosphere in the division buzzed with uneasy excitement. Though Taeui carried on with his tasks as usual, wherever he went, the names ‘Rick’ and ‘Riegrow’ kept floating into his ears. The incident must have caused a considerable stir, as Taeui was summoned to an Instructor meeting after finishing his duties. Even so, there wasn’t much Taeui could contribute. All he could say was that it seemed to have been a typical argument that escalated into the incident—nothing out of the ordinary. That was all he knew.

A strange feeling lingered. Perhaps it still hadn’t sunk in. It was almost as if Ilay were still wandering around somewhere, perfectly fine, while everyone else kept coming to Taeui with odd rumors and frantic chatter. It wasn’t until after the Instructors’ meeting had ended and all his duties for the day were finally complete that Taeui found himself heading back toward the infirmary.

In truth, there was no real need for him to go. If he thought about it, in some ways, it might actually be easier for him if Ilay ended up seriously injured or even transferred to an outside hospital. Sure, things would still be tense with his colleagues for a while, but since the root cause of their issues was Ilay, his absence would eventually restore things to how they were before. He wouldn’t have to be dragged around doing assistant Instructor duties anymore, nor would he have to endure the anxiety of sticking close to a violent beast with nothing but his bare hands to defend himself. And yet, despite all that, Taeui couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that lingered. That was why he made his way to the infirmary—only to find an empty bed.

What? Did he already recover and leave? So, it was nothing serious after all.

Standing in front of the empty infirmary, devoid of Kyoho or anyone else, Taeui suddenly felt his tension drain away. It was as if something tight inside his chest had loosened all at once. Perhaps, without even realizing it, he had been far more on edge than he thought.

Taeui absentmindedly patted the sides of his pants a couple of times, as if wiping them off. His palms felt clammy for some reason.

“If he’s well enough to get up, he should’ve just shown up at the Instructors’ meeting. Thanks to him, I got dragged into that mess for nothing.”

Taeui muttered under his breath and let out a sigh. Even if Ilay wasn’t completely fine, as long as he was well enough to get up, that was good enough. Taeui turned to leave, intending to head back to his room. Just then, the infirmary door opened, and Kyoho walked in. For a moment, Kyoho seemed startled, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to be there. But upon realizing it was Taeui, his expression shifted to one of mild annoyance, silently asking: ‘Why are you here?’

“Ilay must’ve gotten up already, huh? ……Damn it. And here I was, getting dragged around for nothing. When did he wake up?”

Taeui gestured toward the empty bed with a nod as he spoke. However, Kyoho’s expression still stiff, so he shook his head.

“No, he’s still unconscious. There’s nothing more we can do for him here, so we moved him to his room.”

“His room? ……Ilay’s room?”

Taeui’s confusion deepened as he asked again, his voice laced with uncertainty. A heavy, unsettling feeling began to gnaw at the edges of his mind. Ilay hadn’t woken up—not even once—all afternoon. It didn’t add up. Severe cases were always transferred to a proper hospital, not tucked away in private rooms devoid of medical equipment. The thought was foreign, almost absurd, and it gnawed at him. His brow furrowed, frustration mingling with unease. Across the room, Kyoho gathered a few items from the desk. With a casual wave, dismissing Taeui’s concerns as if they were trivial, he turned on his heel and strode out of the infirmary without another word.

“Anyway, I was about to check on him, so come along if you want. ……Tsk. Honestly, as much as I’ve got it bad, you’ve got your own share of trouble thanks to that bastard. I’m telling you, nothing about him ever ends smoothly.”

While Taeui hesitated for a moment and stood still there, before quickly picking up his pace to follow Kyoho, who had already walked a good distance ahead. Kyoho didn’t bother looking back, grumbling to himself as he went. He muttered about quitting this cursed job if they didn’t assign more help by the next quarter.

Muttering to himself: “Just the fact that you can quit whenever you want makes you better off.” Taeui let out yet another sigh—the umpteenth one of the day, too many to count.

The only thing that managed to calm him down, even slightly, was Kyoho’s relentless tirade of curses about Ilay, which continued without pause the entire way. It made Taeui think that at least Ilay wasn’t on the brink of death, gasping for his last breath. He shook his head slowly, he tried to push the thought aside.

“I’ve always suspected that bastard wasn’t human, and now I’m pretty sure I was right. There’s no way he’s human!” 

Kyoho declared so emphatically that Taeui couldn’t help but ask with a straight face:

“Did they find some unheard-of blood structure or a completely alien cell type or something?”

“Or maybe a parasite that can’t exist in humans.” – Taeui added dryly. Kyoho shot him a look as if he were an idiot, then waved a strip of litmus paper with its end discolored.

“He’s alive. You see? Perfectly fine.”

Even didn’t need to look at Ilay, whom Kyoho gestured toward with the paper, to confirm he was alive. He already knew. Sweat had soaked his forehead, face, and neck, leaving them damp and glistening. Though he didn’t let out a single groan, there were moments when his lips or eyelids would twitch faintly. His face was deathly pale, almost corpse-like, but there was no denying it—he was alive.

When the two stepped into Ilay’s room on the first basement floor, the space was shrouded in pitch-black darkness. It was so silent that even the sound of breathing couldn’t be heard, making it feel as though the room were completely empty.

However, when the light was switched on and Taeui saw Ilay lying on the bed, buried under a blanket with his eyes closed, he felt an eerie sense of unease. On the surface, Ilay seemed to be quietly asleep. Upon closer inspection, the faint glimmer of moisture on his skin became visible under the light, but at a glance, he looked no different from usual—pale and calm, as if peacefully resting. That was precisely what felt so unsettling. Ilay had never fallen silently asleep in the presence of others. Even during rare moments when he appeared to nod off in front of Taeui, all it took was a muttered word to rouse him, and he would fix him with a cold, alert gaze that betrayed not a hint of drowsiness. The thought of Ilay lying so defenselessly before someone else—such a scene was unthinkable, even in dreams.

It was only then that Taeui fully grasped it—deeply and unmistakably. Ilay was truly unwell.

“What is it? Some kind of poison that would kill a normal human instantly but still lets him look fine like that?”

In response to Kyoho’s remark about Ilay being ‘perfectly alive’, Taeui snapped back with his question before realizing that his tone had grown impatient and irritable without him noticing, and then clicked his tongue in frustration. He acknowledged that there was no point in taking his anger out on Kyoho, but the simmering frustration wouldn’t subside. Still, fair was fair—how could anyone look at Ilay, with his corpse-like pallor and barely audible breathing, unconscious as he was, and think he seemed ‘perfectly fine’?

Whether he heard Taeui’s irritated tone or not, Kyoho simply frowned and glared at the litmus paper in his hand before crumpling it up and tossing it carelessly over his shoulder.

“It’s not enough to kill instantly, but it’s close. Do you know how high his fever is right now? With the poison alone, he shouldn’t be able to lie there quietly like that. He should be past unconscious, on the verge of death, fighting for his life. But———” Kyoho paused, his voice heavy with emphasis. “———he’s not dying.”

For a moment, Taeui thought about grabbing Kyoho’s mouth and pulling it shut as he rambled on with his cryptic words. If being human meant dying, and not dying meant being something else, then Taeui figured he’d gladly give up being human to keep living. Anyone else would probably feel the same. Who cared if you weren’t ‘human’ as long as you stayed alive?

“So, what’s the conclusion? Is he going to die or not?”

Clicking his tongue, Taeui asked again. Kyoho, who had been gearing up for another long-winded explanation, seemed annoyed by Taeui’s sharp glare; so he muttered something under his breath, and shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s a Bacterial Toxin*. An exotoxin, to be specific. By its mechanism, exotoxins are easily released outside the bacterial cell———” He stopped himself mid-explanation, catching Taeui’s increasingly impatient look, and sighed: “In simpler terms, it’s a refined toxin, but it’s not the kind of thing where you just sit around twiddling your thumbs, waiting to die without any chance of treatment.”

Kyoho, who had been about to launch into a detailed explanation, stopped when he caught sight of Taeui’s increasingly annoyed expression. After clicking his tongue, he cut straight to the point.

“That said, it’s not exactly harmless. For someone with a weak constitution, it could easily become life-threatening. A healthy person might suffer for about a week—if their stamina holds up, they’ll recover; if not, things could get critical. But for a monster like him? He won’t die. Still, check in on him now and then.”

“If you find him cold and stiff one day, just contact the corpse disposal team right away,” – Kyoho added nonchalantly, making it clear he was about to leave. Before he could go, Taeui grabbed his sleeve in a panic.

“Hey, so what am I supposed to do?!”

“What do you mean, ‘what should you do?’ There’s nothing else to be done. He’ll probably wake up in about a week, looking like half a person by then. If he regains consciousness sooner, great. If not, he’ll just have to survive on IV drips* until he does. There’s no magic fix here. He’ll have to rely on his own strength to pull through.”

Kyoho shrugged, as if to say it was out of his hands now.

“Why not move him? What about transferring him to a hospital with proper facilities?” – Taeui asked, but Kyoho only shook his head.

“It wouldn’t do much good. All the fuss of moving him might just make things worse. Just leave him be and think of it as him having come down with an exceptionally nasty case of the flu.”

“People can die from the flu.” – Taeui pointed out.

“True. I never said he wouldn’t die. But with that monster’s stamina? Dying from the flu would be a challenge for him. Even if it’s not just the flu but something ten times worse, do you really think he’s the type to die?”

“………”

Taeui couldn’t deny it, and that frustrated him. He looked down at Ilay. Pale. He’d always been pale, but now, knowing he was unwell, he looked genuinely corpse-like. If not for the faint sheen of sweat clinging to his skin, Taeui might have shaken him just to make sure he wasn’t actually dead. He stared at Ilay silently for a moment before slowly reaching out. His hand hesitated just before touching Ilay’s forehead, hovering there for a second, as if expecting the beast to bare its teeth or snap at him. But Ilay neither stirred nor bit. After a brief pause, Taeui finally pressed his hand to Ilay’s forehead.

It was hot. So hot that Taeui couldn’t help but wonder how such heat could radiate from that pale, ghostly face.

“He’s burning up.” – He murmured.

“I told you.” – Kyoho replied – “Do you have any idea how high his fever is? To exaggerate a bit, if it goes up a few more degrees, even if he survives, he’ll come out of it a complete idiot.”

Kyoho muttered the unsettling words with a calm expression, clicked his tongue, and scratched his head before stepping back. This time, as he made to leave the room, Taeui grabbed him again. But Kyoho, clearly annoyed, yanked his sleeve free with a sharp motion.

“What now?! I told you, there’s nothing more I can do!”

“What, so you’re just going to leave him here burning up like that?!”

“And what do you expect me to do? Sit here next to you, twiddling my thumbs, watching him while we have a deep discussion about life? I’m already drowning in work because of that bastard—who’s going to take care of the mountain of things piling up, huh? You? Can you analyze charts for 12 patients and prep all their support documents tonight? Or draft and fax an entire stack of reports to the external hospital? Can you handle that?!”

Kyoho practically screamed, clutching his head as he lamented: “I should’ve never stepped foot into this damned place! Why does that wretched monster have to make his nest here of all places?!”

Taeui looked at Kyoho with a weary expression before quickly dismissing him. On second thought, Kyoho was truly pitiable. Tasked with running the infirmary in a division teeming with a monstrous man and people harboring deep grudges against him, Kyoho barely had enough energy to keep up, no matter how hard he worked. Taeui understood this all too well. He also knew that when Kyoho flatly said: “There’s nothing more I can do”, it was likely true.

Even knowing that, Taeui couldn’t help but feel a desperate urge to cling to any sliver of hope as he stared at the man lying there, lifeless like a corpse.

“……Hey, Ilay.” – He called softly.

Unsurprisingly, there was no response.

With only the bedside lamp casting a dim glow in the dark room, Taeui stood silently by the bed, staring down at him.

“Hey…… Ilay Riegrow. Wake up, will you?”

Yet Ilay remained completely still, as if holding his breath, without the slightest movement. Taeui stepped closer to the bed. Ilay wasn’t the kind of person to allow anyone to get this close while he was defenseless. Normally, he would have opened his eyes by now, keeping others at a distance. No—he wouldn’t even have let himself be seen like this in the first place. If this were any other day, he would have been on his feet long before anyone entered the room.

Now, he looked like a lifeless doll, utterly drained of strength. He resembled a wax figure, so pale and bloodless. Even if someone were to drive a knife into him right now, would he even react? Like a vampire discovered in broad daylight, this man – so powerful that he embodied the fear and unease of everyone around him – was showing a rare vulnerability, appearing utterly defenseless against even the smallest of threats.

“What is this?”

Taeui suddenly muttered under his breath, his voice lowered as if talking to himself.

“What is this……? It’s strange seeing someone who always treated others like prey lying here like this.”

Slowly, slowly, he reached out again. This time, he didn’t hesitate, letting his hand rest on Ilay’s forehead. His palm came away damp with sweat. Even though sweat was supposed to cool the body, there was no sign of his fever breaking.

“So he really is human after all……” – Taeui muttered – “Even he gets fevers.”

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*Bacterial Toxins are harmful substances produced by bacteria, which contribute to disease processes by damaging host tissues or disrupting normal physiological functions.

*An IV drip, short for intravenous drip, is a method of delivering fluids, medications, or nutrients directly into the bloodstream through a vein. This medical procedure is widely used in hospitals and clinical settings for rapid and controlled administration of substances.