The sterile smell of the hospital room was suffocating. For anyone else, the rhythmic thud-thud of a heart monitor would be a comfort. For Techyon, it was a ticking clock.
998... 999... 1,000.
Techyon's muscles screamed, his sweat dripping onto the cold linoleum floor as he pushed off for his final rep. His hospital gown was soaked through, clinging to a frame that looked leaner, harder, and more scarred than it had just weeks ago.
The door swung open with a sharp clack.
"Sir! What in the world are you doing?!" The nurse dropped her clipboard, her eyes wide with horror. "You were caught in a planetary rupture! Your internal organs were practically liquidated! You aren't fully recovered yet!"
Techyon stayed in the plank position for a second longer, his eyes fixed on the floor. "Sorry, miss," he said, his voice raspy but steady. He pushed himself up, standing with a balance that felt... different. Sharper. "But I'm fine. The doctors said I'd be released in two to three weeks anyway. I'm just getting a head start."
The Two-Week Grind
Techyon didn't just "recover." He transformed the hospital wing into a private torture chamber. Every morning before the sun touched the horizon, he was gone—pushing through a brutal 100km run that took him through the outskirts of the recovering city and back before the morning rounds.
1,000 push-ups. 1,000 sit-ups. Every. Single. Day.
But on the twelfth day, something went wrong.
As he practiced the twitch-response for his Auto Counter, his vision blurred. A searing, white-hot pain surged from his chest to his extremities. Steam actually began to rise from his skin, the air around him shimmering with distorted heat.
"Gah!" Techyon collapsed to one knee, clutching his throat. His heart was hammering like a pneumatic drill.
System Alert: Internal Temperature Exceeds Safety Threshold.
Warning: Auto Counter activation without 6% HP 'Emergency Buffer' causes Mana Friction Overheat.
"That's... not good," Techyon wheezed, his breath coming out in visible vapor. "If I can't master the heat... I'll collapse mid-fight. I'll be dead before the enemy even touches me."
The Wall of Reality
He stood up, wiping the steam from his forehead, and reached for his bedside table. He searched his torn jacket one last time, but the result was the same.
Empty.
"My Adventurer ID... it's gone." A cold realization washed over him. In the chaos of the Monarch's appearance, his status, his rank, and his legal identity had been incinerated.
"No ID means no dungeon access," he muttered, looking at his trembling hands. "No dungeons means no mana stones. No money. No food."
He looked out the window toward the towering spires of a different sector—a sector governed by a different power.
"I can't wait for the doctors," Techyon said, his eyes flashing with a spark of Mayanee's lingering silver aura. "I need to recheck my Mana levels. I need a new ID. And I need a Guild that doesn't ask too many questions about how a dead man is still walking."