Kays Translations

Chapter 43: Let’s Go to the Hospital

A week after I sent the four structural-color gremlins to Tokyo Magic University, I received a letter of gratitude signed by the faculty.

For research teams that had been desperately longing for precise magic power measurement, the magic meter was nothing short of a divine artifact that seemingly dropped from the heavens. It was so coveted that researchers had to wait in line to use it, and it was being used almost like a prize in a fierce competition. In their ecstatic frenzy, the researchers even forgot themselves in celebration. Professor Ohinata, who penned the collective thank-you note, apologized for the delay in sending it.

Being praised so highly made me feel like my ego was soaring sky-high. I sincerely hoped they’d make full use of it. But since crafting these things was such a pain, I did hope they’d handle them with care.

The first study conducted with the structural-color gremlins was the establishment of a new system of measurement.

Now that we had a magic power meter, the next natural step was to decide on a unit of measurement.

For length, there’s the meter.
For weight, there’s the gram.
But what about magic power?

The decision on the unit involved a heated debate among the professors. Ultimately, they decided to strike a balance between theoretical logic and practical application.

Using the structural-color gremlins, the magic power of 1,000 randomly selected individuals was measured. The most frequently observed value for magic power corresponded to a 1mm color shift on the 400nm structural-color gremlin.

Thus, the amount of magic power required to shift the 400nm gremlin’s scale by 1mm was established as the basic unit of measurement for magic power: 1K.

The magic power of an average person is approximately 1K. Pretty straightforward.

And the name’s easy to understand, too.
Magic power is “cleverly seen and defined,” so Kenshi.

What an excellent name for a unit!
Totally unrelated to the fact that my name is Dairi Kenshi, of course!

There was even a playful doodle of an okapi sticking its tongue out and winking in the letter from the university. It was clearly intentional. That cheeky okapi! Changing the kanji to make it seem unrelated to me was so sly. Did they think I’d be embarrassed if they used my actual name? They’d be right!

But honestly, I don’t dislike it. Having the creator’s name tied to their invention boosts its recognition and appeal. If I think of my pen name being immortalized as a unit of measurement, it’s not bad at all. Nice touch, professor.

Looking at the graph of magic power distribution for the 1,000 people provided with the letter, I realized just how high my own magic power was.

Currently, I have 6.6K of magic power.
A fire lizard, by comparison, has about 44–48K. Considering the reduction after embedding a fire lizard gremlin in my left hand, my original magic power must’ve been just over 50K.

What Hiyori once said—“Daisuke, you have a lot of magic power”—turned out to be true.

By the way, Professor Ohinata’s magic power is 120K.
The strongest human, the Flame Witch’s Legacy, has 200K.
The lowest-ranked magic user at the witches’ gathering has 5100K.
And the top-ranked witch, the Blue Witch, has 11000K.

Witches and magic users really operate on an entirely different scale.

With only 6.6K magic power left, I can’t even use the magic to summon an eyeball familiar anymore. Ever since embedding the fire lizard gremlin, I’ve been carrying around familiars summoned by Hiyori in my pocket. I also can’t use Ice Lance magic due to insufficient power.

Still, 6.6K is enough to cast basic fire or freezing spells 2–3 times, so while it’s not as convenient as before, I’m managing pretty well. After all, 6.6K is still in the top 10% for humans.

The last part of the letter, written in the midst of the university’s joy and excitement, detailed some slightly concerning research results.

Using the magic power meter, the magic medicine department discovered that experiencing magic power depletion-induced fainting causes a slight but measurable reduction in one’s total magic power capacity. Each fainting episode decreases magic power capacity by approximately 0.05–0.1K.

Apparently, when you try to use a spell that requires more magic power than you currently possess, the body forcibly reduces its magic power maximum to cover the shortfall, which activates the spell but also results in fainting due to depletion.

There had been speculation that fainting from magic depletion might lower one’s maximum capacity, but because the reduction was so minor, it was previously dismissed as a possibility. It was hard to distinguish from natural aging, measurement error, or other health factors.

After the Mushroom Pandemic, magic depletion-induced fainting became a taboo subject. Now, there’s even more reason to avoid it at all costs. Looking back, it’s horrifying to think about. Before the pandemic, Professor Ohinata was known to frequently faint from magic depletion. It wouldn’t be surprising if his magic power had dropped by 2–3K. That’s pretty terrifying.

The fact that people used to casually risk such a dangerous phenomenon shows just how ignorant humanity was about magic back then. Knowledge is power, after all.

When I hear stories like this, I can’t help but think: there must still be countless magic truths waiting to be uncovered. Humanity has only known about magic for around five years. We’re barely standing on the edge of its vast abyss. All we can do is keep experimenting, researching, and making gradual progress.

Now then.

One day, as the seasons shifted toward spring, I was at Hiyori’s house, helping her decide on the feather color of the horned sparrow she planned to adopt. We were browsing catalogs together when, suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my stomach.

I clutched my abdomen in alarm as the pain came out of nowhere.

Something’s wrong. I don’t recall eating anything suspicious…

After waiting for a while and trying to ignore the pain by responding to Hiyori’s conversation, the ache in my stomach only worsened.

This is bad. I need medicine for this. 

“Sorry to interrupt, Hiyori. Do you have any stomach medicine?”
“Huh? I have some herbal remedies. Is it a stomach ache?”
“Yeah, my stomach… hurts like hell!”
“…Hey? You’re sweating like crazy. Are you okay? Can you stand? Hey!”

As I tried to stand up, I wobbled and had to lean on Hiyori for support.

This is seriously bad—worse than I thought. The pain keeps getting sharper!

“St-stomach medicine, quick…”
“This isn’t something you can fix with medicine! Dammit, there aren’t ambulances anymore! We’re going to the hospital right now. Can you walk? Are you okay!?”
“The hospital? No way, I’ll just fix it with medicine…”
“I’m telling you, medicine won’t fix this! Don’t you get it? You’re drenched in sweat, and your face looks awful!”
“I don’t wanna go to the hospital. Doctors always do those question things…”
“This isn’t the time for excuses, idiot!”

Fed up, Hiyori lost her patience and hoisted me up in a bridal carry.

Whoa, she’s really strong! It’s like being lifted by a sumo wrestler or a pro wrestler—solid, steady, and surprisingly reassuring.

Still carrying me, Hiyori rushed to the door, slipped on her shoes, and stepped outside. She adjusted her grip on me and said with commanding determination:

“Hang on tight. I’m taking off. I rise as the blazing force of my blood, surging through the veins of my existence…!”

Hiyori cast her self-enhancement spell and darted forward like a bullet.

Despite dashing through the city like a gust of wind, Hiyori didn’t jostle me at all.

Ugh… the hospital… I don’t wanna go. I stocked up on meds at home to avoid situations like this!

But even as she transported me at high speed, the pain in my stomach—which I thought couldn’t get any worse—just kept intensifying.

---

I cried.

It hurts. It hurts so much.

I hate doctors, but if they can take this pain away, I’ll do anything. Please, just help me!

While I sobbed uncontrollably, Hiyori sped through the city and carried me into a large hospital in Chiyoda Ward. Along the way, she mentioned this was the hospital with the most well-equipped medical staff and high privacy standards.

“I am the Blue Witch. Bring out your best doctor immediately!”

With that authoritative command, the hospital erupted into chaos like a disturbed beehive. The director rushed out and personally escorted us further inside.

In a clean examination room filled with the typical sterile smell of disinfectant I hate so much, I underwent a rapid-fire series of interviews and physical examinations while Hiyori stayed by my side.

Ugh, this hospital scent is the worst. Hurry up and fix me already. Or at least use perfume that smells like burnt iron, charcoal, and wood.

After completing the examination, the doctor pressed on my lower abdomen, making me wail like a child before he nodded decisively.

“It appears to be appendicitis.”

“A-appendicitis…? Is that a deadly disease?”

“I’ll do anything! Please, doctor, save him!”

“Appendicitis refers to what’s commonly called a ‘burst appendix.’ Even in this day and age, it’s resolved with a simple surgery. He won’t die.”

“Appendix…”

Appendix.

I’ve heard of that.

It’s supposed to be one of those famously easy surgeries, right?

So I’m not dying? Even though it feels like I’m about to?

Phew, that’s a relief.

Turns out it just feels like death, but I’m actually fine.

“Thank goodness, it’s just appendicitis. Well, not that it’s good, but…”

Behind me, I could hear Hiyori’s audible sigh of relief. I felt relieved too, but the doctor hesitated for a moment before continuing:

“Normally, we’d proceed directly to surgery, but we recently introduced a new magic diagnostic method. If you don’t mind magic, we’d like to use it to avoid any chance of a misdiagnosis. The procedure is entirely safe.”

“By all means, please do it.”

For some reason, it was Hiyori—not me, the patient—who instantly agreed.

Well, whatever. If it increases the chances of accuracy, it’s fine.

“While you’re at it, check everything that might be wrong with him.”

“Understood. After the surgery, we’ll conduct a comprehensive examination during recovery. But first, let’s proceed with the magic diagnostic. Ishiya-kun, please explain.”

The doctor called over a young man standing in the corner with a chart. The young man stepped forward after a small bow and began explaining.

“My name is Ishiya, and I’m a magical physician. We’ll be using a diverted incantation based on the Eye Witch’s X-ray magic. Using three different Gremlins, we’ll adjust the output and scan your internal body three times. You can think of it as a magic equivalent to an X-ray scan. Unlike traditional X-rays, this doesn’t produce visible images, which makes explaining findings to the patient or guardian slightly challenging. However, it has zero radiation exposure. Do you have any questions?”

Hiyori and I shook our heads.

X-ray-level magic diagnostics. That’s reassuring. Big thanks to Ohinata-sensei for inventing diverted incantations. Now I can get a proper scan too.

After confirming our agreement, Dr. Ishiya placed his chart aside and picked up a staff fitted with a small Gremlin marked with a sticker labeled “1.”

“You don’t need to remove your clothes… Excuse me, Blue Witch, but could you step aside? If you stay there, the magic might accidentally scan you as well.”

Startled, Hiyori quickly moved aside.

This magic sounds like it could be misused for something inappropriate. Well, I guess risqué abilities or magic have their uses in medicine.

“If the gleam of our hidden vision reveals all—then let the falsehoods burn away, and may the light of truth shine like the sun…”

The same incantation was repeated three times, with the staff’s Gremlin swapped out each time. Judging by the size and shape of the Gremlins, I estimated the outputs were 0.7x, 1.1x, and 1.5x.

Hmm, nice touch. Adjusting output levels to vary the depth of the scan? Clever.

But I can’t compliment him out loud because this pain is killing me. Can we hurry to the surgery? I feel like I’m about to throw up—my stomach is trying to eject itself.

The results of the Eye magic diagnosis also indicated appendicitis, so with my consent, the green light was given for the surgery.

I was quickly changed into surgic attire and placed on one of those movable hospital beds often seen on TV, which was then wheeled into the operating room.

At the doors to the operating room, I parted ways with a worried-looking Hiyori and headed into the battlefield.

The surgical team—five doctors in their surgical gowns—surrounded me. One swiftly placed an oxygen mask on my face, while another decisively inserted an IV needle into my arm.

“We’ll administer general anesthesia now. Don’t worry—you’ll wake up to find everything has been taken care of.”

General anesthesia? That’s the kind that forces you to lose consciousness, right?

I wasn’t thrilled about it. After all, there’s always a slim chance that sleep could become eternal.

But I’m Dairi Kenshi. A little anesthetic isn’t going to—

…

…

…

When I awoke on the hospital bed, everything was already over.

General anesthesia is no joke.

I couldn’t resist it at all. It knocked me out instantly, like a one-punch KO.

Lying there, blinking to fully regain consciousness, I turned to Hiyori, who was seated in a chair next to the bed, and called out to her.

“Morning. How long was I out?”

“!? You’re awake! Thank goodness… It’s been about 30 minutes since the surgery ended. You seem pretty weak to anesthesia—it’s usually much faster for people to wake up, so I was worried.”

“Oh, really? Well, I’m glad I didn’t end up taking an eternal nap.”

“Don’t joke about that. It’s not funny.”

“No, I mean it. This was my first surgery ever, so…”

Hiyori fell silent and squeezed my hand tightly.

She held it with quite a bit of force, though my sense of touch was still dull, likely because of the lingering effects of the anesthesia.

As the anesthesia gradually wore off, I started feeling a dull pain in my stomach, which was quickly managed with painkillers. I spent the next three days post-op surviving on IV drips.

The hospital room I was in seemed to be a VIP suite, and thanks to Hiyori’s discreet explanations to the staff, my stay was free from disturbances. It was incredibly comfortable—no unnecessary visitors, and the staff even swapped out my IV bags while I was asleep.

However, on the fourth day after the surgery, my peaceful life was interrupted.

The head doctor, the same one who had initially diagnosed me, brought in my first light meal and said he had something important to discuss, holding a medical chart in his hand.

Both Hiyori and I tensed up—the color drained from my face, and she stiffened in anxiety.

The doctor, however, spoke in a calm, reassuring tone.

“Please don’t worry. It’s not bad news.”

“Oh, good news, then? You scared me for a second.”

“Yes, you could say it’s good news. However, it might sound a bit strange. During your surgery and while you were under anesthesia, we performed a variety of health checkups and examinations. The results are… well…”

According to the doctor, I’m some sort of medical anomaly.

Of course, I’ve always known I’m a bit of an oddball, but now it seems there’s some scientific and anthropological basis for it.

Humans evolved from apes, but in truth, we’re still in the middle of that evolution.

For example, there are rare cases of people with tetrachromatic vision. Most people have three types of photoreceptor cells and are trichromatic, but tetrachromatic individuals have four types.

Tetrachromats are said to perceive tens or even hundreds of times more colors than trichromats. It’s a clear sign of evolution, with no downsides—a complete upgrade from trichromatic vision.

Apparently, my eyes have also evolved. The tissues around and within my eyes are extremely unusual. While it’s not definitive, the doctor suggested that my visual resolution might be significantly enhanced, allowing me to see as though I were using a microscope.

Well, yeah. That’s genetic. My mom had great eyesight, and so does my sister. Although neither of them were quite on my level. Must be from my mom’s side.

My heart is also unique, beating only once every ten seconds. But each beat pumps a large volume of blood. This phenomenon isn’t unheard of, and while unusual, it’s not harmful to my health.

Yeah, it’s actually pretty convenient. Most people’s hearts beat so frequently that the vibrations reach their fingers, making their hands shake. But with my slow heart rate, I can perform tasks with much steadier hands.

Lastly, my fingers are apparently highly evolved too. They’re extraordinarily flexible and capable of fine, precise movements while remaining stable when fixed.

I already knew that, though. I can bend all my fingers back to touch the back of my hand. I’ve never seen anyone else who can do that.

“So, does this mean he’s mutated into some kind of sorcerer?’”

Hiyori spoke with a tone that seemed somewhat expectant, but the doctor shook his head.

“He’s not a magician. There’s no evidence of mutations in his vocal apparatus, nor is there any increase in magic power. Even accounting for the reduced magic capacity caused by the Gremlin embedded in the back of your left hand, you’re still well within the range of a normal human. Your organs, though remarkably youthful, are perfectly normal. While your case is highly unique and exceptional, it can all be explained through medical science. You could say that you’re at the forefront of humanity’s evolution, one of its cutting-edge examples.”

“Huh, interesting.”

The things he explained were mostly things I already knew, but hearing it officially confirmed from a medical perspective made it more convincing.

“I always thought these eyes of mine were kind of cheat-like.”

“Cheat…?”

“Oh, it’s a slang term for something special or extraordinary.”

“Ah, pardon me. I’m not familiar with new expressions. Your vision’s revolutionary evolution is indeed remarkable, but looking back through evolutionary history, it’s rare yet not entirely unprecedented. For instance, when life first developed eyes, that evolution was nothing short of revolutionary. Organisms that previously only saw in flat planes evolved structures that allowed for stereoscopic vision. Similarly, the evolution of the post-orbital wall in primates was revolutionary. By developing a bony structure behind the eyes, the visual field became far more stable, providing a clear and steady view. The changes in your eyes might be comparable to such major turning points in visual evolution. Well, maybe that’s overstating it, but there’s no doubt that it’s a remarkable step forward in evolution.”

“Wow, evolutionary history is amazing!”

Witches and Wizards may have undergone absurdly bizarre mutations, but I’m a product of good ol’ terrestrial evolution! Humanity’s potential shouldn’t be underestimated! Gahaha!

“Hey, Hiyori, why don’t you get a health checkup too? They might find something unusual about you.”

“Hah! A health checkup for a witch would be pointless. I may look human, but I don’t even have a heart, and my core body temperature is below freezing. If they did a checkup, they’d only find abnormalities.”

“Whoa. But your hands feel totally warm, and you even have a pulse.”

I squished and squeezed Hiyori’s hand, which felt entirely normal—just like an ordinary woman’s hand.

It’s honestly a mystery how she manages to produce that kind of power with these hands. At a glance, she’s just a normal, beautiful girl. I don’t get it.

While I was busy examining Hiyori’s hand, which she wasn’t even moving, the doctor smiled warmly and told me to take care. He added that if my recovery continued smoothly, I’d be discharged tomorrow before leaving the room.

Man, when I first felt that intense pain in my stomach, I really thought I was done for, but I guess things worked out.

I also gained a proper understanding of the source of my incredible dexterity—though the explanation was clearly simplified for me. In hindsight, it wasn’t such a bad experience overall.

I’ll be discharged tomorrow.

Once I’m back home, I’ll start rehab and take care of my fire lizard, which I’ve neglected during my hospital stay.

Previous chapter | TOC | Next chapter