The doctor swept into the room with a chart tucked under his arm and a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Behind him trailed two nurses and what looked like a medical student, all staring at Rome like he was some kind of science experiment gone wrong.
"Mr. D'Angelo, you're awake! This is quite remarkable," the doctor said, his voice carrying that forced cheerfulness medical professionals use when they're surprised you're not dead. "I'm Dr. Matsuda. How are you feeling?"
"Like I got thrown off a building, hit by a truck, then dragged through hell," Rome said. "So better than expected."
Considering I was literally dead less than a day ago. Or however long it's been.
The doctor laughed, a short professional chuckle. "Well, your sense of humor is certainly intact." He pulled out a penlight and shined it into Rome's eyes. "Follow the light, please."
Rome tracked the light while the nurses checked his vitals and the medical student scribbled notes in the corner.
"How long was I out?" Rome asked.
"Three days," Dr. Matsuda answered. "You were brought in Monday evening. It's now Thursday night."
Three days? Shit.
"Is Kiona okay? The healer who was with me?"
The doctor nodded. "Ms. Tsukimori is recovering two floors up. Compound fracture of her right tibia and fibula. She's been asking about you every few hours."
A rush of relief flooded Rome's chest. She'd made it out. The giant had kept its word.
"Please don't tell my sister I woke up," Rome said. It wasn't a question.
Dr. Matsuda lowered his penlight. "I'm afraid it's too late for that. We had to notify your emergency contact when you were admitted. She's been here almost constantly. We finally convinced her to go home and get some rest a few hours ago."
Of course she has. Dammit, Calypso.
"You had extensive internal bleeding," the doctor continued, checking something on Rome's chart. "Four broken ribs, a fractured radius, and what appeared to be a complete amputation of your left arm below the elbow."
Rome automatically looked down at his left arm. Whole. Intact.
Dr. Matsuda followed his gaze. "Yes, that's the most remarkable part. When they brought you in, the arm was... well, not present. We prepped you for surgery to clean and close the wound. But when we removed the field bandages..."
The doctor trailed off, clearly uncomfortable.
"The arm was back," Rome finished for him.
"Not exactly. There was a... regrowth occurring. Something I've never seen before in twenty years of medicine. By morning, you had a fully formed arm. The nursing staff has been calling it 'the miracle case.'"
『I told you your recovery would raise questions,』 ARCAN's voice commented in Rome's mind.
Yeah, no shit.
"Lucky me," Rome said aloud. "Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket."
A sharp knock interrupted whatever the doctor was about to say. The door swung open without waiting for a response, and two figures in black suits stepped into the room.
"Excuse me," Dr. Matsuda said, clearly annoyed. "This patient is still recovering from serious injuries. You can't just—"
The woman held up a badge. "Lola Briscoe, HAA Investigation Division. This is my partner, Gunnar Tosch. We need a few minutes with Mr. D'Angelo."
The doctor looked ready to argue, but ultimately just sighed. "Five minutes. Then I need to finish my assessment."
He ushered his staff out, leaving Rome alone with the two agents.
Agent Briscoe was maybe mid-twenties with a perfectly neat bob haircut and sharp red eyes that didn't miss a thing. Her partner was older, probably pushing fifty, with a face that looked like it had been carved from granite with a dull chisel.
"How are you feeling, Mr. D'Angelo?" Briscoe asked, her voice surprisingly gentle.
"Like I should be dead," Rome answered honestly.
"But you're not," Gunnar said. His voice was gravel and whiskey, the kind that came from too many cigarettes and not enough sleep. "Which is the interesting part."
"Did you kill them?" Rome asked. "Those statue things in the arena?"
Briscoe's expression flickered with surprise. "We can get to that. First, we have some questions—"
"We're actually not here for questions," Gunnar interrupted, pulling a device from his jacket pocket. It looked like a small metal box with a glass panel on top. "We're just here for a standard rank-up check."
"Rank-up check?" Rome frowned.
"After traumatic gate incidents, there's always a possibility of spontaneous rank advancement," Briscoe explained, glancing at her partner with mild annoyance. "Similar to the initial awakening process, extreme stress or near-death experiences can sometimes trigger latent essence potential."
Rome had heard of rank-ups before. They were rare—maybe one in a ten thousand hunters experienced them. Usually after surviving something they shouldn't have. A jump could boost a hunter anywhere from one to three stars in rank, transforming careers overnight.
A One-Star nobody becomes a Four-Star celebrity with a single brush with death. If you survive.
"So you're saying nearly getting killed might have made me stronger?" Rome asked.
"It happens," Gunnar said with a shrug. "Need to check your current essence level. Standard procedure."
He held out the device. "Palm on the glass. Quick and painless."
Rome hesitated. Would this thing detect ARCAN? Would it show something weird?
『The device measures only your raw essence pool,』 ARCAN said. 『It will not detect my presence.』
Rome placed his palm on the cool glass surface. The panel glowed faintly, numbers flickering before settling on a reading.
"Twenty-one," Gunnar grunted, sounding disappointed. "No change."
Wait, really? After all that?
"Well, we wish you a speedy recovery, Mr. D'Angelo," Gunnar said, pocketing the device and turning toward the door.
"Hold on," Briscoe said, clearly surprised. "We need to question him about what happened in there. Thirteen hunters entered that secondary chamber. Only two came out alive."
"No disrespect, Briscoe," Gunnar said, his tone suggesting the exact opposite, "but it was a One-Star gate incident. Blue classification. That's far below our pay grade."
"People died!"
"People die in gates every day. That's the job." Gunnar's expression softened a fraction. "Look, if you want to question him, go ahead. I'm going to Vero's for a drink. Report's due on Monday."
He walked out without looking back, leaving Briscoe standing there with her mouth slightly open.