The morning light pierced the school window, and Chun Ma groaned.
He wasn't injured. Not dying. But his body hurt. It hurt in places that didn't even exist in his past life.
His thighs screamed. His back felt like it had been folded in half during sleep. His arms? Weak as noodles. Not the hardened steel arms that once cracked stone. Now, they were wet noodles after being boiled too long.
He rolled out of bed slowly and collapsed to the floor like a sandbag.
"System," he muttered, face pressed against the cold wood, "explain this suffering."
⎛System Notification⎠
Body Fatigue Detected. Recovery Required.
No innate cultivation physique present.
Recommendation: Basic Medicine or Rest.
He stared at the glowing text that floated in front of him.
"Rest?" he hissed. "Inaction breeds death. I must rebuild. I must forge this body."
The system added a cheerful blinking message:
Rest is recommended. Or you may create a Basic Recovery Brew.
That… made him pause.
He sat up with difficulty, like an old man who just got out of a coma, and nodded solemnly. "Then I shall brew. I will not surrender to the pain."
Chun Ma arrived at school in a limp. His usual confident stride was replaced by stiff-legged shuffling. Every step was a reminder that his once legendary body had been replaced with that of a teenager who probably couldn't do ten pushups.
Woo-jin spotted him first and blinked. "Bro… you good?"
"I am cultivating recovery," Chun Ma said through clenched teeth.
"Cultivating what? You look like someone unplugged your spine."
Hana joined them, brows raised. "You're walking like a retired wrestler."
Chun Ma ignored them both and opened his school bag. He'd spent last night collecting what he could—things that resembled herbs, powders, or anything remotely "medicinal."
Two vitamin C tablets
A sports drink (electric blue)
One packet of powdered instant ramen seasoning
A wrapped mint
Leftover milk tea
A dried plum he found in Hana's trash yesterday (she didn't know—yet)
It wasn't ideal. It wasn't even safe. But it was something.
He locked himself in the unused classroom beside the roof, now his "alchemy chamber."
He arranged the ingredients on a desk with the care of a man preparing a holy ritual.
"System," he said seriously, "assist."
⎛System Assistance Activated⎠
Basic Brewing Interface: On
Ingredient Compatibility: 22%
Warning: Taste will be horrific. Side effects possible.
"Accepted."
He crushed the mint first, breathing deeply as the peppermint aroma rose. Then dropped it into the milk tea. He added the ramen seasoning slowly, chanting in an ancient dialect of his past sect. A dialect no one here would understand. Then the vitamin tablets, one by one, fizzing with unnatural energy.
Finally, the blue sports drink. Then the plum.
The mixture hissed. He stirred it with the back of a chopstick and whispered a mantra as the concoction bubbled.
Ten minutes later, Chun Ma drank the entire thing in one go.
Then promptly collapsed against the wall, blinking rapidly.
His hands shook.
His spine itched.
His vision blurred.
"…Perfect," he muttered.
Woo-jin walked in right then and dropped his phone in shock.
"DUDE. Did you just chug dish soap?! What is that smell?!"
Chun Ma gave him a lazy, half-dead thumbs up. "Recovery… initiated…"
"You're insane. You need actual medicine. Or a hospital."
"No," Chun Ma said, eyes glowing faintly. "I need nothing but will."
Woo-jin backed out of the room slowly. "I'm telling Hana. I'm not letting you die like this."
By lunch, Chun Ma was seated at their usual rooftop spot again, back slightly straighter. Still sore, but less than before. He chewed a rice ball quietly while Hana stared at him.
"So… you drank a potion made of tea, mints, and ramen dust?"
"Yes."
"And you're still alive?"
"Obviously."
"You need help."
"I am helped. By my own hand."
Woo-jin dropped a can of soda beside him. "You need real help. The kind that comes with a doctor and maybe a priest."
Chun Ma ignored them both and leaned into his food. His body was still aching, but something inside had shifted. His breathing was deeper. His core was slightly warmer. His posture was more stable.
The brew had worked. A little.
After lunch, during self-study, Chun Ma sat quietly at his desk, taking notes. Not school notes—he ignored those entirely. He was sketching formations. Breathing diagrams. Ancient acupuncture paths. Most of it meant nothing to modern people.
But to him, it was a blueprint for recovery.
From across the room, Hana kept glancing at him.
Something about the way he sat—so perfectly upright, so calm—looked almost elegant. Ridiculous, sure, but also… strangely disciplined.
Even the teacher paused for a second before continuing his lecture on world history.
Chun Ma ignored all of it.
Later that evening, he returned to the roof and meditated under the stars. The school had emptied out. The wind was cool. The city buzzed below.
He sat cross-legged, eyes closed, breathing in and out with the rhythm of his past life.
In his mind, he imagined the mountain air of the Murim world. The sound of waterfalls. The clang of training blades. His sect, strong and proud.
They were all gone.
But not forgotten.
He clenched his fists.
"I will rebuild. Even if I must do it with ramen and tea."
The system hummed.
⎛System Notification⎠
Body Adaptation: +4%
Pain Resistance: +1
Brewing Skill: Beginner Tier Unlocked
Basic Elixir Creation – Success
Taste Score: 1/100
He smiled.
He could take the pain. He had taken worse.
But this world… this soft, bright, artificial world—it wouldn't understand him.
Not yet.
The Next Day
Chun Ma arrived at school with a more confident stride.
Still a bit sore, but his eyes were sharp. His body was learning.
In class, Woo-jin leaned over. "You're looking less dead. Did you make another brew?"
"Yes."
"Did it taste better?"
"No."
"…I worry about you, man."
Hana just sighed. "I still think you need a real hobby. Or a therapist."
But Chun Ma wasn't listening.
He had begun writing down the first names of his "disciples." They didn't know it yet, but their names would soon be carved into history.
In his notes, he began sketching a sect emblem: a flame wrapped in clouds.