Second World Online

Time seemed to pass at an unnatural speed when your body was struggling to recover. The night that had been adorned by the sound of light rain outside my window quickly changed into a bright morning. Warm morning sunlight pierced through my room’s curtains once again, bringing with it new hope and a slight sense of impatience that began to boil in my chest. My body felt much lighter today. The aching sensation in my spine had faded to a very tolerable level, and my breathing no longer felt heavy.

At exactly eight in the morning, my room door creaked open, revealing the figure of Doctor Karin stepping in with a firm and confident stride. She wore her clean, oversized white coat, a stethoscope draped elegantly around her neck, and a sophisticated medical tablet in her left hand. Following behind her was Mira, carrying a tray of additional medical equipment with an extremely serious facial expression.

"Good morning, Champion. Time for a comprehensive engine check," greeted Doctor Karin in a cheerful tone that always managed to melt the usually rigid atmosphere of my medical room.

"Morning, Doc. I feel ready to run a marathon today," I replied half-jokingly, trying to show that I genuinely felt healthy.

Doctor Karin merely offered a small smile, then placed her tablet on the nightstand. She began conducting a standard physical examination: checking my nerve reflexes, listening to my heart rate and lung breathing using the stethoscope, pressing several areas of my abdomen and joints to look for signs of residual inflammation, and finally checking my pupils’ response to her small flashlight.

However, in the midst of that supposedly professional examination process, something made me feel incredibly awkward.

Doctor Karin was indeed known as a friendly doctor who sometimes liked to tease her teenage patients so they wouldn’t get too stressed. But this morning, she felt a little... mischievous. Whether intentional or not, though my teenage instincts screamed that it was one hundred percent intentional every time she leaned down to check my heart rate or adjust the IV line near my shoulder, she always pretended to check something in great detail until our distance became extremely close.

And right then, she bumped her large chest directly into my face.

That very soft yet invasive sensation of pressure swept across my cheek and nose. She didn’t pull away immediately, but let it linger for a few extra seconds while muttering softly, "Hmm, your heart rate is fluttering a little here, Rian. Are you feeling short of breath?"

Of course my heart is fluttering, Doc! I shrieked internally. I was a normal young man trapped inside an ailing body, and such physical contact obviously triggered biological reactions that made my ears burn. But I held my breath, keeping my facial expression as calm as a lake’s surface.

Naturally, Doctor Karin only dared to execute this "accidental" maneuver when we were alone, or when only Mira was watching in the room. And this morning, Mira was standing right at the foot of my bed, gripping the silver tray with knuckles turning white from holding it too tightly.

Through the corner of my eye, I could see a murderous aura emanating from my personal maid’s body. Mira glared at Doctor Karin with an incredibly sharp gaze, as if her eyes could shoot laser beams that would burn a hole in the back of the doctor’s white coat. Her beautiful face was drawn tight, filled with jealousy she made absolutely no attempt to hide.

On the other hand, Doctor Karin, who was very aware of the deadly glare, didn’t feel intimidated in the least. Instead, as she straightened her body, she glanced at Mira over her shoulder with an obvious, proud, and arrogant smile. That smile seemed to mock: ’Look, I am the doctor, I can do whatever I want, and you can only stand there watching me.’

A silent cold war was detonating inside my room. Invisible sparks clashed in the air every time the two adult women locked eyes.

I, the patient acting as the epicenter of this ridiculous cold war, was naturally very aware of the entire dynamic happening around me. But what could I do? I was lying weak, trapped among IV lines and ECG monitor cables.

"Damn," I cursed miserably in my heart, averting my gaze to the room’s ceiling with a pitiful look. "If only I had a healthy body... if only my leukemia was cured, I would have definitely escaped this awkward situation by jumping out the window. Why must I be stuck as a puppet in the middle of their rivalry?"

The examination process, interspersed with hidden tension, lasted quite a long time. Doctor Karin took several new blood samples, analyzed the data from the previous night, and cross-referenced it with my medical records from the past few weeks.

Only when the sun was positioned vertically above the house’s roof signaling that midday had arrived did Doctor Karin finally set her medical tablet down with a long sigh. Her teasing expression had now completely evaporated, replaced by a serious wrinkle on her forehead indicating she was in oncologist mode.

"Overall, Rian," Doctor Karin began speaking, breaking the silence that had blanketed the room. "Your physical condition is currently stable. Your vital signs have returned to excellent normal numbers. Even your bone marrow’s response to the transfusion and immunosuppressants is working much faster than my expectations."

Hearing the word "stable," an immense relief immediately washed over my chest. Mira also seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, momentarily forgetting her hostility with the doctor.

However, Doctor Karin’s next sentence immediately made the atmosphere tense again.

"But... to be honest, your case is truly bizarre," continued Doctor Karin while tapping her tablet screen with the tip of a stylus pen. Her eyes narrowed in utter confusion. "The day before you collapsed, I checked all your daily log data. Your blood results showed very positive progress. Your white blood cells were within tolerance limits, and there was not the slightest sign of inflammation. Medically speaking, in theory, you should have been perfectly fine for at least the next month."

She stared at me intently. "Then suddenly, the very next day, your leukocytes exploded incredibly aggressively. That explosion of malignant cells happened in just a matter of hours without any external trigger like infection or extreme physical exhaustion. This is highly illogical. It’s as if this disease has a ’switch’ that suddenly turned on by itself."

I fell silent listening to her explanation. My mind suddenly drifted to the world of Second World Online. Did it have something to do with the brainwave synchronization when I used the Game Capsule? Or did the tension when I fought the Alpha Dire Wolf Elite area boss the day before yesterday trigger an adrenaline production that destroyed my body’s balance unconsciously?

Before I could formulate an answer, Doctor Karin had already made her final decision.

"Since we do not know exactly what triggered this sudden explosion, I must implement strict preventive protocols," Doctor Karin asserted in a tone that accepted zero arguments. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I know you must be itching to go back to playing with your expensive VR machine. But listen carefully, Rian. If you want to play games, you must drastically cut the duration."

"How long, Doc?" I asked quietly, holding back the disappointment that began to overshadow my hopes.

"Reduce it to just two hours per day," Doctor Karin decided mercilessly. "Only two hours. You must slowly acclimatize your brain and nervous system. After one week has passed without any issues or complaints of pain, only then will we discuss permission to play longer than that. Understood?"

Two hours. A very, very short time for a game with a massive scale like SWO. Opening your inventory, organizing items, and just walking out of town could eat up half an hour on their own. But I knew, arguing with Doctor Karin at a time like this was suicide.

I nodded my head slowly, agreeing to her strict conditions for my own good. "Alright, Doc. Only two hours. I understand."

"Good boy," Doctor Karin’s smile blossomed again. She gently patted the top of my head, then straightened her coat. "In that case, I will return to the hospital now. I will monitor your data remotely. Mira, make sure he eats his lunch properly and swallows his medicine on time."

"Of course, Doctor Karin," answered Mira in a formal tone as cold as ice.

After Doctor Karin packed her equipment and walked out of the room, silence once again enveloped my space.

As soon as Doctor Karin’s footsteps faded at the end of the corridor, Mira immediately moved. She didn’t say a single word. She walked to my private bathroom, and a moment later returned carrying an aluminum basin filled with warm water and a neatly folded clean towel.

"Time to clean your face before lunch, Young Master," Mira said softly.

She placed the basin on the nightstand, dipped the towel into the warm water, and wrung it until damp. A soothing, light antiseptic soap aroma wafted from the towel. Mira began wiping my forehead, cleaning the lingering sweat clinging to my temples with extremely painstaking and attentive movements.

However, as she leaned lower to wipe my neck and cheeks... that unexpected event repeated itself.

Mira, who was usually very polite and highly upheld professional boundaries, suddenly leaned her body forward. And exactly like what Doctor Karin did a few moments ago, Mira bumped her chest into my face!

The difference was, while Doctor Karin did it with a natural teasing flair, Mira did it with an explosively competitive aura. She seemed to want to prove that she too possessed "assets" that were no less impressive, and that she had the right to a position this close to me. The soft pressure from her nurse uniform pressed against my cheek, and she held that position while wiping my neck, her breathing slightly hurried.

"How annoying..." I groaned internally, my eyes staring blankly at the ceiling lights.

What was wrong with the women in this house? Was using me as a cushion a new trend to settle their rivalries? My head genuinely spun thinking about it. However, because I didn’t want to trigger a longer drama or ruin Mira’s mood after she had painstakingly guarded me for three consecutive days without sleep, I chose the safe route.

I maintained a calm, flat face as if I were made of wood and oblivious to that highly intimate physical touch. I breathed regularly, stared straight ahead, pretending that the wiping of a towel on my neck was the only thing happening.

Seeing my reaction as flat as a wall, Mira finally pulled herself back with a slight pink flush creeping across her cheeks. She cleared her throat awkwardly, tidied the towel and water basin with slightly rushed movements, and hurried out of the room.

"I... I will go get your lunch now, Young Master!" she exclaimed quickly before closing the door.

I let out a long sigh, closing my eyes for a moment to calm my tense nerves.

Not long after, Mira returned carrying a lunch tray. The sight on that tray instantly sent my appetite into a freefall. The porcelain bowl only contained very watery white porridge, a little pale clear chicken broth, and a few pieces of boiled carrots. No salt, no pepper, no MSG. Bland food designed for a stomach that had just recovered from inflammatory shock.

I stared at the porridge with a reluctant gaze. However, the images of StoneBrook city, of Kitsuna, of Alya becoming a little red fox, and of my Whispering Ash bow waiting inside my virtual storage bag, instantly ignited my spirit.

"I have to eat this quickly. I can’t wait to get back into the game again!" I thought with determination.

Ignoring the bland taste torturing my tongue, I spooned the porridge with mechanical movements. Chew, swallow. Chew, swallow. While eating, my brain started spinning at maximum speed, formulating an insanely efficient time strategy.

"Only two hours. 120 minutes," I calculated in my head. "No time to walk leisurely looking at the scenery. The moment I log in, I will use the first 10 minutes to go to Kitsuna’s shop and sell all the drop items from the spiders and Alpha Dire Wolf to stack my gold coins. The next 15 minutes, I’ll look for Alya, give her some capital or protective items to survive as a Beast. The remaining 95 minutes I will use brutally to secure important materials at the auction or dive straight into the nearest hunting area to maximize EXP."

That plan was neatly arranged in my head simultaneously with the finishing of the last bite of my bland porridge. I placed the empty bowl back onto the tray with a firm clinking sound.

"I’m finished, Mira," I said, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

Seeing my overflowing enthusiasm, Mira couldn’t hold back her smile. She tidied up the tray, then walked to the corner of the room to turn on the power panel for my medical Game Capsule. The machine’s indicator light immediately turned green, humming softly to signal that the Full-Dive matrix was ready to operate.

Mira walked over to me, helped me detach the remaining ECG monitor tubes on my chest leaving only one small nutritional IV line that was designed to be connectable to the capsule’s external port. Carefully, Mira supported my shoulders and waist, aiding me, whose legs were still a bit shaky, to walk the few steps from the bed to the sophisticated machine.

The distinctive smell of the sterile, cool supportive gel fluid instantly greeted my sense of smell as soon as the capsule hatch opened. I laid my body down into the gel pads that adjusted perfectly to the contours of my spine. That cool sensation instantly relaxed my previously tense muscles.

Mira helped me put on the Full-Dive Capsule. The electrode sensors on the inside of the capsule slowly lowered and attached gently to my temples, preparing to translate my brainwaves into digital signals in the Second World.

"Remember Doctor Karin’s message, Young Master. Only two hours. I have set this machine’s alarm to force an automatic log out if you pass that time limit," Mira advised with a motherly tone, before pressing the Close button on the side panel screen.

"I understand. Thank you, Mira," I whispered from behind the helmet glass.

The thick glass hatch above me slowly closed, sealing me off from the real world filled with pain, bland porridge, and treatment room drama. The space inside the capsule slowly turned dark, replaced by the glow of microscopic blue lights swirling in front of my eyes.

I closed my real eyes, adjusted my breathing pattern to a deep relaxation rhythm, and called out the system authentication command into the void in my mind.

"Link in"