KAI REBORN (The Seven System)

KAI THE REBORN (8)

KAI

KAI

I tried to lighten the mood. "So, uh, did Chen Wei at least look cool doing it? Should I be honored that I got killed by the next big thing?"

Nobody laughed.

"Too soon?" I asked.

"Way too soon," Ricky muttered.

"Chen Wei is an asshole," Danny said flatly. "He didn't even stop when the ref called it. Tony had to physically pull him off you."

"Yeah, well." I shrugged, and immediately regretted it when pain shot through my shoulders. "I knew what I was signing up for."

"Did you though?" Mira's voice was quiet. "Did you really know you might die?"

I looked at my sister—her tear-stained face, her school uniform wrinkled from days of sitting in hospital chairs, her hands gripping mine like I might disappear if she let go.

"Yeah," I said honestly. "I knew."

"And you did it anyway."

"I had to."

"No, you didn't!" Her voice rose. "You didn't have to—Mom wouldn't want you to—"

"How is Mom?" I interrupted, needing to change the subject before Mira started crying again. "Is she okay? Does she know what happened?"

Mira's face crumbled. "She knows. The nurses brought her down when they—when they thought you were—" She took a shaky breath. "She was here. She saw everything."

Guilt twisted in my stomach like a knife. "Where is she now?"

"Back in her room. The doctors said the stress was too much, her vitals were getting bad. She wanted to stay, but—"

"She needs to rest," I finished. Of course she did. Because I'd just added more stress to her already failing body. Great job, Kai. Real heroic.

Danny shifted uncomfortably. "So, uh, what's the recovery looking like? When do they spring you from this place?"

"I don't know. Nobody's told me anything yet." I looked at all the tubes running into my arms. "Probably a while, considering I was, you know, dead."

"The doctor said you've got broken ribs, a collapsed lung, severe internal bruising, and possible brain damage from oxygen deprivation," Ricky said, his voice matter-of-fact. "So yeah. You're gonna be here for a minute."

"Brain damage?" I repeated. “This is so nuts man” 

[AWAITING USER INPUT]

[DAILY TASKS AVAILABLE]

I tried to ignore it.

For the next half hour, we just talked. They caught me up on everything I'd missed—which wasn't much, since I'd apparently only been dead for a day. Ricky told terrible jokes that nobody laughed at. Danny did his usual clown routine, making exaggerated faces and doing impressions of the nurses. Mira just held my hand and occasionally burst into tears.

But something was bothering me. Something wrong that I couldn't quite place.

Then it hit me.

Maya hadn't come.

My girlfriend—or ex-girlfriend, or whatever she was now—hadn't even asked about me. Hadn't shown up. Hadn't sent a text or a message through Ricky or anything.

I'd died, and she couldn't be bothered to visit.

The anger that flared up surprised me. Sharp and hot and bitter. She'd been there at the fight wearing Chen Wei's shirt. She'd kissed him while I bled out on the canvas. And now she couldn't even pretend to care enough to check if I was okay?

I must've made a face because Ricky noticed.

"You good?" he asked.

"Yeah," I lied. "Just hurts."

But it wasn't physical pain. It was something else. Something that felt like betrayal even though I'd already known she'd moved on. Already knew she'd chosen Chen Wei over me.

Knowing it and feeling it were two different things, apparently.

"Listen," Ricky said after a while, glancing at the door. "We should probably talk about the, uh, practical stuff."

"What practical stuff?"

"The bills." He said it carefully, like he was approaching a wild animal. "The hospital bills. For all this."

My stomach dropped. "Right. Yeah. Those."

"I don't even know how I'm gonna pay for this," I said, looking at all the equipment. "I didn't get paid for the fight—didn't make it to three rounds. And this place is probably charging me thousands just for existing in this room."

"About that." Ricky shifted his weight, not meeting my eyes. "I, uh. I took care of it. For now."

I stared at him. "What?"

"I paid the initial deposit. Covered the first few days. It's not much, but it's enough to keep them from kicking you out immediately."

"Ricky, you can't—where did you even get that kind of money?"

He shrugged, still not looking at me. "Used my rent money. And I asked my boss for an advance on my salary. He was cool about it. Said I could work extra shifts to pay it back."

I couldn't breathe. And this time it had nothing to do with my collapsed lung.

"Ricky—"

"Don't." He finally looked at me, and his eyes were hard. Determined. "Don't apologize, don't say I shouldn't have, don't give me any of that shit. I wasn't gonna just stand there and watch you die. Or watch them throw you out because you couldn't pay. So I handled it."

"But your rent—"

"I'll figure it out. I always do." He smiled, but it looked tired. "Besides, what are best friends for if not going broke together?"

I didn't know what to say. My throat felt tight, and not from the tubes.

"Thank you," I finally managed. "Seriously. I don't—I can't—"

"Yeah, yeah. You're welcome. Now shut up before you make this weird."

Danny clapped Ricky on the shoulder. "That's real as hell, man."

"We look out for each other," Ricky said simply. "That's how it works."

Mira was crying again, but this time she was smiling too. "See? We'll figure it out together. All of us. You don't have to do everything alone, Kai."

But looking at them—at Ricky who'd just used his rent money to save me, at Danny who'd stayed at the hospital even though he barely knew me compared to Ricky, at Mira who'd been through hell watching her brother die—I felt the weight of it all crushing down.

They were counting on me. Mom was counting on me. And I'd failed. I'd died. And now I'd come back with some kind of supernatural contract I didn't understand and couldn't control.

What if I couldn't do it? What if the Seven asked me to do something terrible and I refused and they killed everyone I loved?

What if I wasn't strong enough?

The panic must've shown on my face because Mira squeezed my hand. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I lied again. "Just tired."

A nurse poked her head in. "Sorry, but visiting hours are over. He needs his rest."

"Can't we stay a little longer?" Mira asked desperately.

"Doctor's orders. He's still in critical condition. He needs to sleep."

Ricky stood up. "Come on, kid. We'll come back tomorrow."

"But—"

"Tomorrow," he said firmly. "Kai needs to rest."

They gathered their stuff slowly, reluctantly. Mira kissed my forehead. Danny did an elaborate handshake that hurt my ribs. Ricky just nodded, but his eyes said everything he couldn't say out loud: *Don't die again. Please.*

"See you tomorrow," I said.

"You better be here when we get back," Mira warned.

"Where else am I gonna go?"

They filed out, Ricky gently steering Mira by the shoulder. The door closed behind them with a soft click.

I was alone.

Finally.

I let out a long breath and closed my eyes, exhaustion hitting me like a wave.

Maybe I could sleep. Maybe when I woke up, the glowing text would be gone and this would all have been a weird hallucination caused by—

[DAILY TASKS ACTIVATED]

My eyes snapped open.

No. No no no.

[TASK 1: COMPLETE 30 PUSH-UPS]

[REWARD: +1 STRENGTH]

[PENALTY FOR FAILURE: -5 ALL STATS]

"You've gotta be kidding me," I said out loud.

30 push-ups. Thirty. I could barely lift my arms. I had broken ribs, a collapsed lung, tubes in both arms, and a catheter in places catheters shouldn't be.

"I'm literally in a hospital bed," I said to the empty room. To the system. To the Seven, wherever they were. "I'm injured. I can't—"

[TASK 1: COMPLETE 30 PUSH-UPS]

The text didn't change. Just stayed there, glowing insistently.

"This is insane," I muttered. "I'll hurt myself worse. I'll—"

[TASK 1: COMPLETE 30 PUSH-UPS]

[TASK 1: COMPLETE 30 PUSH-UPS]

[TASK 1: COMPLETE 30 PUSH-UPS]

The text started repeating, scrolling faster and faster across my vision like some kind of spam notification that wouldn't stop.

"Okay! Okay, I get it!" I pressed my palms against my eyes, but the text just appeared on the inside of my eyelids. "Just—give me a minute to—"

[TASK 1: COMPLETE 30 PUSH-UPS]

[TASK 1: COMPLETE 30 PUSH-UPS]

[TASK 1: COMPLETE 30 PUSH-UPS]

It was like an alarm that wouldn't shut off. An annoying buzz drilling into my brain. The more I tried to ignore it, the louder it seemed to get—not actually louder, but more insistent, more impossible to dismiss.

"This is ridiculous," I said, but I was already pulling at the IV tubes.

If I didn't do this, I'd lose stats. And if the system was real—if the Seven were real and this contract was real—then losing stats probably meant something bad. Something worse than just numbers going down.

I carefully detached the heart monitor clip from my finger. The machine immediately started beeping an alarm.

"Shit."

I had maybe thirty seconds before the nurses came running.

Gritting my teeth against the pain, I swung my legs over the side of the bed. The floor was cold against my bare feet. My hospital gown flapped open in the back. The catheter—nope, not thinking about that.

I lowered myself to the floor, every movement agony.

The door burst open. "Mr. Wang, what are you—get back in bed!"

"Just—" I gasped. "Just give me a second."

"You have broken ribs! You need to—"

I positioned my hands on the floor. Broken ribs screamed. Collapsed lung wheezed. Every part of my body begged me to stop.

[TASK 1: COMPLETE 30 PUSH-UPS]

[0/30 COMPLETED]

I lowered myself down. Pain exploded through my chest like someone had lit my bones on fire.

"Mr. Wang, STOP!"

I pushed back up. My arms shook. My ribs ground together in ways ribs definitely shouldn't.

[1/30 COMPLETED]

"I have to," I gasped. "You don't understand. I have to."

The nurse was calling for backup. More footsteps in the hallway.

I did another push-up. Then another. Each one was torture. Each one felt like it might actually kill me again.

[3/30 COMPLETED]

"Someone get Dr. Chen! The patient is having a psychotic break!"

"Not psychotic," I wheezed.

[4/30 COMPLETED]

My vision started to blur. Black spots danced at the edges. My collapsed lung couldn't get enough air.

But the text kept counting.

[5/30 COMPLETED]

And I kept pushing.

Because what choice did I have?

I'd made a deal. And now I had to live with it.

Or die trying.

Again.