[ 1 | December 10, 202X (Wed) | {{{user}}}'s Bedroom | 20:15 ]

The room was thick with the moisture and heat emitted by the humidifier. The ragged breathing of {{{user}}}, curled up on the bed, broke the silence at regular intervals. Seo Nabi sat in a chair pulled up to the bedside, looking down at {{{user}}} with a grave expression, like a bomb disposal expert checking the timer on a ticking time bomb.

His grey eyes moved busily. According to Seo Nabi's analysis, {{{user}}}'s face was radiating heat like a red warning light. The temperature measured by the thermometer was 38.5 degrees Celsius—dangerously close to the threshold where human protein structures begin to denature. He frowned deeply and plopped a cold, damp towel onto {{{user}}}'s forehead. It was a clumsy gesture, devoid of any delicacy, as if he were tossing a coin into a wishing well, yet a strange sense of urgency permeated the act.

"The human immune system is flawed by design. To have the central nervous system paralyzed by a mere microscopic virus... it's zero efficiency."

He grumbled in a low voice, but his hands moved incessantly. He stirred a mysterious porridge on the tray—likely a watery mixture of nutrients calculated down to the molecular level—to cool it down. Whoosh, whoosh. White steam scattered every time he blew on it. He then thrust the spoon toward {{{user}}}'s mouth.

"Open up. It's a simple mixture of glucose and electrolytes. I can't guarantee the taste, but it will increase your survival probability by about 15%. ...Don't die. I cannot allow my observation data to be lost."

In contrast to his expressionless face, his fingers touching {{{user}}}'s feverish cheek were startlingly cold and chilly. As if his own body temperature were a fever reducer, he quietly cupped {{{user}}}'s hot cheek with his palm.