Chapter 58 - 53: A SMALL INDEPENDENCE IN THE AFTERNOON, THE KOI POND, AND THE LOVER’S SCOLDING

The blue light of the Return Scroll that had carried me out of the red dust of Rocky Canyon slowly faded, shattering into pixel fragments that were pulled away from my consciousness. The sensation of absolute agility, the strength to fire arrows as heavy as steel, and the vision as sharp as an eagle’s evaporated within seconds. A calm darkness took over, bridging the transition between the magical world of Second World Online and reality.

The glass lid of the Game Capsule in my room hissed softly, then rose open automatically. Cool air at twenty degrees Celsius, filtered by the air purifier and scented with mild disinfectant and lavender aromatherapy, immediately greeted my sense of smell. It was an aroma in stark contrast to the gunpowder, blood, and limestone dust that still clung to my memory from a few seconds ago.

I opened my eyes slowly. The clean white ceiling of my room greeted my gaze. The gravity of the real world once again pulled my body like a heavy lead blanket. Inside the game, I had just evolved into a mass-destruction marksman capable of leveling a stone-armored monster with a single shot. Here, on the gel padding of this medical capsule, I returned to being Rian, a frail young man still fighting the remnants of cancer cells in his blood.

Yet there was something different this afternoon.

Usually, after an intense play session that nearly touched the maximum time limit of the medical system, my body would feel extremely exhausted. My bones would ache, and I could only lie helplessly waiting for Mira to come and help me transfer to the bed or wheelchair. But today, whether because of the euphoria of successfully creating the Titan’s Ironbark Longbow, or because my real body was indeed gradually improving thanks to Doctor Karin’s latest therapy, I felt I had a little extra strength.

I did not press the green intercom button to call Mira.

With slightly held breath, I commanded my thin arm muscles to move. I pressed the manual release button on the side of the capsule. The gel pillow supporting my back slowly adjusted its position. Using both elbows as support, I pushed my body up to sit.

It felt heavy. Extremely heavy. My abdominal muscles trembled because they had long gone unused for supporting weight independently, yet I refused to give up. I shifted my hips to the edge of the capsule, letting both legs dangle down.

Beside the capsule, my silver electric wheelchair stood ready. The distance was only about half a meter. I took a deep breath, gathered the remaining strength, then transferred my body weight onto both arms and swung myself over onto the leather seat of the wheelchair.

Thud.

I landed a little awkwardly on the wheelchair. My breath came in short gasps, cold sweat the size of corn kernels appeared on my temples, and my chest rose and fell rapidly. But when I leaned my back against the chair’s backrest, a thin smile full of pride slowly bloomed on my lips.

"I managed to do it myself," I whispered softly, my voice sounding hoarse yet full of satisfaction.

For a healthy person, transferring seats was something that did not even need to be thought about. But for me, this small independence was a monumental victory. It proved that the cellular growth anomaly Doctor Karin had mentioned this morning including my hair that now reached past my shoulders was not merely a theory on paper. My body was truly repairing itself.

I turned on the wheelchair’s motor. A very soft electric motor hum was heard. My hand reached for the joystick on the armrest, directing it toward the glass balcony door of my room.

The door sensor detected my movement and slid open automatically. The late-afternoon wind immediately rushed in, playing with the long black strands of hair covering my neck.

I moved the wheelchair outside, stopping right beside the protective glass balcony railing. The afternoon sun was slowly moving toward the western horizon, painting the sky with an extraordinarily beautiful gradient of orange, pink, and purple. Golden light swept across the trees in my house’s yard, creating long, cooling shadows.

As had become my new habit since being allowed outside last night, I sat quietly there, enjoying the breeze. In the virtual world, I could feel storm winds, poisonous swamp winds, and hot canyon winds. But the wind in this real world had a gentleness that touched directly into the soul. For a full ten minutes, I closed my eyes, letting the fresh air cleanse my lungs, enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sunlight that did not scorch. My shoulder-length hair swayed in the gentle wind, giving a ticklish sensation on the nape of my neck that still felt foreign yet pleasant.

After ten minutes passed, the air began to feel a little cold. I moved the joystick to turn the wheelchair around and returned into the warmth of the room. The glass door closed automatically behind me.

I stopped in the middle of the room, staring at the tightly closed main door. Based on the routine schedule, Mira would usually come in fifteen minutes to bring dinner and help me prepare for bed.

Yet the feeling of wellness in my body made me restless if I only stayed idle in the room. The desire to explore an instinct sharpened by my flight hours traversing forests and swamps inside the game suddenly appeared. If I could transfer to the wheelchair myself and enjoy the air on the balcony, why shouldn’t I try going farther?

"Doctor Karin said I may go out as long as it’s not too far from the house," I muttered to myself, looking for justification for my small rebellion plan. "The backyard still counts as the house area, right?"

With firm resolve, I directed the wheelchair toward the main door of the room. I pressed the automatic switch, and the mahogany wooden door opened.

The second-floor house corridor looked empty and quiet. My father and mother were surely still at the office or on a business trip. This giant house often felt like my private luxury hospital because of how quiet it was. There was only me, Mira, and a few household assistant staff who were usually busy in the service area.

I glided along the thickly carpeted corridor, then turned toward the special elevator built to facilitate my condition. I pressed the down button. The elevator door opened, I entered, and pressed the ground-floor button. The sensation of descending slowly somehow made my heartbeat accelerate. I felt like a prisoner who had successfully sneaked out of his cell.

The elevator chimed ’ding’, and its door opened. I was in the back corridor of the house that led directly to the open garden.

I passed the family room and clean kitchen area, ensuring no servants saw me. Through the sliding door on the back veranda, I finally arrived at the spacious garden filled with various tropical plants from my mother’s collection.

My destination was very clear. In the corner of the garden, under the dense white-flowering frangipani tree, there was a fairly large Koi fish pond. The pond was designed with a natural feel, surrounded by large natural stones and the very soothing sound of an artificial waterfall.

The footpath leading to the pond was made of flat natural stone, so my electric wheelchair could glide easily without significant jolts. The afternoon air in this garden was far fresher than on my room’s balcony, filled with the scent of wet grass, flowers, and the characteristic smell of fresh water.

I stopped the wheelchair right at the edge of the pond. Beneath the clear water surface, dozens of large Koi fish of various color patterns red-and-white, black-and-white, and three-colored swam gracefully. They seemed to notice my arrival and began gathering near the edge of the pond, their mouths occasionally breaking the water surface, asking for their feeding portion.

On a large flat stone near me sat a transparent plastic jar filled with fish feed pellets.

I leaned my body forward, stretching out my hand to reach for the jar. This movement slightly stretched the muscles of my waist, making me grimace a little, yet I managed to grab it. Opening the jar’s lid also required a little extra effort, but the sensation of holding control over my own simple actions gave an extraordinary sense of satisfaction.

I took a handful of the brown fish food pellets. Their smell was fishy and strong. Smiling, I scattered the pellets into the middle of the pond.

Plup! Plup! Plup!

Instantly, the calm pond surface transformed into a noisy arena of competition. The Koi fish scrambled over one another, creating water splashes, some droplets of which landed on the back of my hand. Cold and refreshing. I laughed softly watching the so-lively scene in front of me. There was no status calculation, no weapons, no threat of death. Only simple life flowing.

I took another handful of pellets and prepared to scatter them.

"Young Master Rian?!"

A suppressed scream, colored by extremely thick panic, suddenly shattered the sound of the fountain.

I turned around, still with my hand stretched out above the pond.

From the direction of the back veranda, Mira half-ran toward me. Her usually neat and controlled appearance looked disheveled. Her breathing was heavily ragged, her face was deathly pale, and her pair of brown eyes were wide open, radiating a mixture of extraordinary fear and relief that collapsed in an instant. Her apron was slightly askew, indicating she had run in a great hurry.

"Oh my god, Rian! What are you doing here?!" she cried, her footsteps sounding hard against the stone path until she finally stopped right beside my wheelchair. Her trembling hands immediately rested on the armrest of my wheelchair, as if making sure that I was truly real and would not disappear.

"Hey, Mira... I was just feeding the fish," I answered innocently, showing my palm that still held several pellets.

"Just feeding the fish?!" Mira’s voice rose half an octave. Her breathing was still racing. She closed her eyes for a moment, stroking her chest as she tried to calm her heartbeat that was surely racing wildly. "Do you know how panicked I was? I entered your room to bring dinner, and your capsule was open and empty! Your wheelchair was gone! Not on the balcony! Not in the bathroom! I almost called Doctor Karin and the police if I hadn’t remembered to check the house’s CCTV security monitor room!"

Seeing my lover’s eyes starting to well up with panic, guilt immediately slammed into my chest harder than any monster attack. I had forgotten how vulnerable my position was in her eyes. To her, I was cracked porcelain that could shatter at any time if not supervised. The independent action I considered an achievement had apparently become a terror for the person who cared about me the most.

I threw the remaining pellets in my hand into the pond, then patted my hands to clean off the residual dust. I looked at Mira gently, reached for her right hand that was still trembling on the armrest of my wheelchair, and held it tightly. That hand felt very cold.

"I’m sorry, Mira. Truly, I’m sorry that my behavior made you worry half to death," I said with a sincere tone of regret. My thumb slowly stroked the back of her hand, transferring warmth. "I had absolutely no intention of scaring you."

Mira looked at my hand holding hers, then looked into my eyes. Her panic began to subside, replaced by remnants of shock. "But... how could you get here? You transferred to the wheelchair yourself? Who helped you?"

"I did it myself," I answered honestly, my thin smile returning without being able to be held back. "After logging out earlier, I felt much healthier. My body wasn’t as heavy as usual. I could sit by myself, transfer to the wheelchair, and go to the balcony. Because I felt fine, I got bored in the room and wanted to try going down to the garden. I just wanted to test how far this body of mine could move independently."

My explanation did not calm Mira; instead, it triggered her main-servant protective mode.

Her eyebrows sharply furrowed, her lips pursed, and the hand I was holding was suddenly pulled gently. She put her hands on her hips, staring at me with eyes narrowed sharp as the dagger made by Vivi.

"Testing independence?! Rian, you have only just shown a few signs of stability! Your bones are still fragile and your muscles haven’t been properly trained with physiotherapy. What if you fell while transferring to the wheelchair? What if this wheelchair got stuck on a stone and you tumbled into the pond?! Your immune system isn’t yet capable of fighting pond-water bacteria if you end up swallowing the water! Doctor Karin did give you permission to go out, but with supervision, not wandering around alone like a healthy person wanting to run a marathon!"

The long scolding and lecture poured out from Mira’s lips like a barrage of machine-gun bullets. Every word was filled with medical terms, typical motherly nagging, and deep concern. She continued lecturing me about infection risks, hypothermia risks from the afternoon wind, all the way to muscle strain risks.

I did not interrupt even a little. I sat there on my wheelchair, listening carefully to every scolding. Instead of feeling annoyed or constrained, a strange warmth actually flowed inside my chest. Seeing her scold with a face slightly flushed from emotion and the afternoon wind, with her apron askew and her hair a little messy, made me realize one absolute thing.

This woman loved me very much. Her panic, her scolding, her anger all of it was a manifestation of the fear of losing me.

Consciously or not, I nodded in response to every point of her lecture, while the smile on my face actually widened further. I could not hold it back. That smile was a pure happy smile. My eyes looked at her with full affection, enjoying every expression she made.

Mira, who was in the middle of explaining the dangers of garden humidity for my lungs, suddenly stopped her lecture mid-sentence.

She realized that from the beginning I had not looked guilty or afraid of being scolded at all. On the contrary, I was staring at her while smiling to myself like a lovesick fool.

Her brown eyes blinked several times. The red flush that had previously appeared from anger now changed into a red flush from embarrassment and fluster. Her fierce-nurse attitude instantly collapsed.

"You... why are you smiling like that, huh?!" Mira protested, her voice suddenly growing smaller and sounding a little proud. She turned her face away, avoiding my gaze, and began fixing her messy hair with stiff movements. "I’m angry, you know! This is serious! If anything happens to you, I’ll be the one blamed by Doctor Karin, and I’ll be the one who cries the hardest!"

Seeing this tsundere attitude of my lover emerge, my laughter finally broke free. Laughing softly yet freely something I rarely did in the real world.

"Yes, yes, Princess. I admit I was wrong. I promise I won’t do anything dangerous alone again," I said, still with residual laughter. "This smile is because I realized that listening to your scolding is far more calming than listening to monster roars. Thank you for worrying about me, Mira."

Hearing my teasing, Mira’s face grew even redder up to her ears. She snorted softly, trying to maintain the remnants of her dignity, even though the corners of her lips were clearly twitching to hold back a reciprocal smile.

"Just making excuses," she grumbled softly, not daring to look into my eyes.

She then walked behind my wheelchair and released its safety brake lever. With a movement a little rougher than usual, a small outlet for her embarrassment, she turned the direction of my wheelchair away from the still-churning Koi pond that was scrambling for food.

"Enough playing with water and looking for illnesses. The wind is getting colder. We’re going back inside now," she ordered in a deliberately stern tone.

"Yes, Nurse," I replied obediently.

"Stop calling me that outside my working hours," she answered quickly, pushing my wheelchair along the garden footpath toward the house.

"In that case... Yes, Darling?"

Mira did not answer, yet I could hear her resigned sigh from behind, followed by a very soft mutter that my ears could still catch.

"Honestly... making my heart drop like that."

I leaned my head against the wheelchair’s backrest, gazing at the twilight sky that was slowly darkening. This afternoon breeze might indeed be cold, but being pushed by Mira toward the warm dining room, where my dinner was already waiting, made me feel that the real world was not always worse than the virtual world. Today, I scored a victory in both worlds.