MY SYSTEM LOADS 10 SECONDS LATE

Chapter 8 : The price of a breath

Chapter 8: The Price of a Breath

The scent of sterile antiseptic and synthetic ozone always made Jaxen's stomach turn.

St. Jude Corporate Hospital was less of a sanctuary for healing and more of a gleaming, high-tech fortress. Located on the outer ring of the Central Medical District, the towering glass structure was bathed in the harsh, rotating glow of neon advertisements promoting genetic therapy and premium neural implants. It was owned entirely by the Horizon Medical Syndicate—a major corporate ally of the Dawn Horizon Corporation.

Jaxen walked through the sliding glass doors of the lobby, his boots squeaking softly against the polished white marble. He kept his hood low, conscious of the biometric scanners built into the ceiling corners. A faint silver pulse hummed beneath his skin as *[Chronostasis Veil]* held firm, feeding the hospital's security grid a completely falsified, unawakened E-Rank profile.

He approached the reception counter, where a sleek, chrome-plated android receptionist rotated its optical sensor toward him.

"Welcome to St. Jude Corporate Hospital," a pleasant, pre-recorded voice chimed from the machine's chassis. "Please state your patient ID or present an authorized payment token."

Jaxen pulled out his cracked smartphone, opening his Hunter's Association banking app, and held the generated transaction barcode up to the scanner. "Paying the overdue maintenance balance for Lily Vance. Patient ID: 994-Delta."

The android's scanner emitted a sharp red beam, reading the glowing screen.

```

[PROCESSING TRANSACTION...]

[Sender Account: Jaxen Vane]

[Recipient: Horizon Medical Syndicate]

[Amount: 12,500 Credits]

[Status: Approved. Overdue Balance Settled.]

```

"Payment verified," the android droned, its optical sensor shifting from red back to a passive blue. "Account restriction lifted. Patient Lily Vance is currently allocated to Ward 4, Sub-Basement 2. Visiting hours expire in twenty-four minutes."

Twelve thousand five hundred credits vanished from his account in a microsecond, leaving him with a meager balance of less than three thousand. Jaxen didn't even blink. He locked his phone and turned toward the service elevators.

In this city, the layout of a building was a direct reflection of a person's financial value. The wealthy, high-ranking corporate executives and S-Rank hunters who underwent experimental gene therapies were housed in the glass-domed penthouse suites, where natural sunlight actually pierced the smog. The poor, the unawakened, and the broken utility workers were shoved down into the windowless sub-basements, surrounded by vibrating hydraulic pipes and roaring server racks.

The elevator hissed as it descended into the bowels of the hospital. When the doors slid open at Sub-Basement 2, the ambient temperature dropped significantly. The clean marble of the upper floors was replaced by exposed concrete walls, harsh fluorescent lights that flickered with a rhythmic, maddening buzz, and rows of identical, cramped isolation pods.

Jaxen walked down the narrow hallway, his enhanced senses picking up the faint, ragged breathing of the dying souls trapped behind the reinforced glass doors. Before his stat allocation, this hallway had filled him with a crushing sense of powerlessness. Now, with a C-Rank constitution and 4,200 points of raw mana humming stably inside his core, the environment no longer oppressed him. It only fueled a cold, quiet anger.

He stopped in front of Pod 402. He swiped his civilian ID token against the reader, and the glass panel slid aside with a heavy hiss.

Inside, the pod was barely large enough to fit a single bed and a towering, monolith-like life-support machine that hummed aggressively. Lying in the center of the mechanical bed was a fragile, pale girl who looked far younger than her seventeen years. Her long, dark hair was spread across a white pillow, and her skin was almost translucent, revealing the faint, bluish lines of her veins.

This was Lily. Two years ago, during the First New Horizon Gate Outbreak, she had been caught in a localized mana storm. Unlike those who awakened as hunters, her unawakened body couldn't process the sudden influx of atmospheric mana. The raw energy had crystallized inside her internal organs, placing her into a permanent, comatose state known across the globe as *Mana Sclerosis*.

Jaxen pulled a plastic chair to the side of the bed and sat down. He gently took her small, cold hand in his.

```

[SYSTEM NOTICE: Perception attribute active.]

[Scanning biological entity... Lily Vane.]

[Status: Severe Mana Saturation (92%). Organic decay halted by synthetic stasis fluid.]

[Estimated Survival Time without Stasis Maintenance: 72 Hours.]

```

Jaxen's eyes darkened as he read the system's blunt diagnostic. The 12,500 credits he had just paid didn't cure her; it merely bought her another three months of stasis fluid—another three months of borrowed time. The Horizon Medical Syndicate possessed the technology to extract the crystallized mana from her organs, but that procedure was locked behind an "S-Rank Executive Clearance" and a price tag of five million credits.

To a corporate dynasty, Lily's life wasn't a tragedy to be resolved. It was a recurring subscription model.

"I solved the immediate problem, Lily," Jaxen whispered, his voice softening as he squeezed her unmoving fingers. "The Vanguard team couldn't get rid of me today. I found a way. I found a path out of the mud."

Suddenly, the door to the pod hissed open again.

Jaxen didn't turn around immediately, but his enhanced *[Perception]* had already mapped the intruder's arrival. He heard the rhythmic click of expensive leather heels and the distinct, subtle hum of low-grade mana armor woven into a medical lab coat.

"Mr. Vance," a cold, professional voice spoke from the doorway.

Jaxen slowly released Lily's hand and turned his head. Standing there was Dr. Karen, the chief administrator for Sub-Basement 2. She was a woman in her late thirties, her hair pulled back into a tight, severe bun. She held a sleek digital clipboard, her eyes scanning Jaxen with a mixture of mild surprise and typical corporate disdain.

"Dr. Karen," Jaxen acknowledged, his voice flat.

"I must admit, I was quite surprised when the automated billing system flagged your account," Dr. Karen said, stepping into the cramped pod. She tapped her stylus against the screen. "An E-Rank scout rarely clears a three-month overdue stasis balance in a single lump sum. The Iron Vanguard's logistics division verified a hazard bonus wire to your name under a non-disclosure index. You must have had a very... eventful raid."

"The dungeon mutated," Jaxen said, his face a mask of perfect indifference. "The contract guaranteed a tier-adjusted survival payout. I merely collected what was owed."

"Is that so?" Dr. Karen stepped closer, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looked down at Jaxen's posture.

Thanks to his *[Chronostasis Veil]*, his external mana readings were completely flat. But Dr. Karen had been handling hunters for over a decade. She couldn't see his C-Rank stats, but her trained eyes noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor—the lack of the typical, hunched-over exhaustion that usually plagued low-rank laborers, and the absolute calmness in his gaze.

"Whatever the case, it's fortunate you paid," Dr. Karen continued, her voice taking on a sharp, corporate edge. "Because as of tomorrow morning, the Horizon Medical Syndicate is restructuring the pricing model for the Sub-Basement wards. Due to the increasing cost of importing pure stasis fluid from the European dungeon sectors, the monthly maintenance f*e for Mana Sclerosis patients is doubling."

Jaxen's hand, resting on his knee, tightened into a fist. The leather of his glove creaked under the sudden, massive application of his 51 points of Strength. *Doubling.* They were raising the price the exact moment he found a way to pay it.

"Doubling?" Jaxen said, his voice dropping into a chillingly quiet octave. "Her contract was locked under a fixed-rate tier for the fiscal year."

"The corporation reserves the right to adjust maintenance fees during a localized gate mutation crisis," Dr. Karen replied smoothly, completely unbothered by his glare. To her, an E-Rank citizen's anger was as harmless as a gust of wind against a skyscraper. "If you cannot meet the new financial threshold by the first of next month, we will be forced to transition Patient 994-Delta to the palliative care ward. I'm sure you understand the logistics, Mr. Vance."

Palliative care was a corporate euphemism for turning off the stasis machines and letting the patient pass away within three days.

Jaxen looked from Dr. Karen's cold, calculated face back to his sister's pale, innocent features. A deep, resonant hum vibrated in his mind. For a fraction of a second, he thought about pulling his daggers and ending Dr. Karen right here. He could rewind time by ten seconds if things went wrong.

But his analytical mind instantly suppressed the urge. Killing a mid-level administrator inside a corporate stronghold would trigger a full-scale S-Rank investigation. His veil would be torn away, and Lily would be unplugged before the night was over. He couldn't fight the system with raw violence yet. He had to play by their rules until he was strong enough to rewrite them.

"I understand perfectly," Jaxen said, slowly rising from his chair.

As he stood up to his full height, the sheer density of his newly allocated attributes gave him an imposing presence that made Dr. Karen instinctively take a half-step backward, her fingers gripping her clipboard tightly. She couldn't understand why, but for a split second, her survival instincts flared as if she were standing next to an apex predator.

Jaxen leaned down and gently kissed Lily's forehead. "I'll see you next week, Lily."

He walked past Dr. Karen without giving her another glance, stepping out of the pod and into the flickering light of the concrete corridor.

As the elevator carried him back up toward the neon-drenched surface of New Horizon City, a golden notification box manifested before his eyes, responding to the cold fury burning in his chest.

```

[SYSTEM LOG: Host's emotional state has triggered a synchronization spike.]

[Chrono-Store Alert: A time-limited Urgent Quest has been generated based on environmental variables.]

[URGENT QUEST: The First Capitalization]

- Objective: Secure a minimum of 100,000 Credits and 500 Chrono-Shards before the first of next month.

- Condition: You cannot accept any corporate contracts or register your true rank with the Hunter's Association.

- Failure Penalty: Forced termination of Patient Lily Vance's life-support grid.

- Reward: EX-Rank Skill Book: [Time Dilated Training Ground] & 1,000 Unallocated Stat Points.

```

Jaxen stepped out of the hospital lobby and into the cool, smoggy night air. He looked up at the corporate skyscrapers, a ruthless, calculating smile finally touching his lips.

"You want more money?" Jaxen whispered to the city skyline. "Fine. I'll take it from the dungeons, and I'll take it from you."