NOVEL NEXT Chapter 3: pain
April 28, 3104
The next day, I received a message:
|Rebeca| Here are the data on professionals from the top 5000 to the top 200, where Grandmasters start.
Attached was a 20GB file.
"Great. Looks like I've got a new job while I'm still in the hospital."
For the next two months, my routine fell into a strict pattern:
8:00 a.m. Wake up—or more accurately, keep sleeping until 8:40 or 8:50.
9:00 a.m. Breakfast.
11:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. Training to prevent muscle atrophy as much as possible.
2:00 p.m. Lunch.
3:00 p.m. to 5:00 p.m. Sorting through the endless data sent by Rebeca.
6:00 p.m. Dinner.
7:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. Intravenous infusion of medicine. This part was easy; the hard part came later.
10:00 p.m. The most horrible time of the day.
At 10:00, the real ordeal began.
After the infusion ended, they would place me on a trolley and wheel me to the basement of the hospital. Down there, they put me inside a transparent vertical cylinder—a capsule. A mask connected to an external oxygen supply covered my face. Over the remains of my limbs, they applied a special material: hard on the outside, soft on the inside. This material was infused with an anesthetic, a muscle relaxant, and a compound that kept my wounds from closing completely.
The First Week
It wasn't so bad. They administered strong anesthetics, and I slept through the process. But after that, they informed me I would need to remain conscious. Staying awake, they said, would reduce the adaptation period for my regenerating nerve endings.
Weeks 2–4
Half of my forearm and about a third of my calf regrew during this period. I watched, fully conscious, as my new hand and leg slowly took shape. Fortunately, the substances they used kept me from feeling any pain.
But something unexpected happened around the 40-day mark: my body began adapting to the drugs.
It started with simple stinging sensations. At first, I dismissed them as minor and didn't notify the doctors.
Regeneration Progress: Hand = 44%; Leg = 30%
By Day 50, the stings had turned into intense, persistent pain, even while I was in the capsule. I finally informed the medical team. They explained that while they could change the preparations, the pain wouldn't disappear entirely. The variety of substances entering my body made total pain relief impossible until the nerve structure in my limbs was fully regenerated.
Regeneration Progress: Hand = 57%; Leg = 42%
Day 60 (2 Months)
The pain was as intense as before, despite the doctors' attempts to adjust the treatment. They said another recombination might grant me three days of relief—no more.
What kept me going was the sight of progress: my forearm was complete, and the calf was just a week away from being finished.
"Just one more week," I reminded myself, "and this nightmare will finally be over."
Regeneration Progress: Hand = 63%; Leg = 55%
Day 65
The pain became unbearable. It wasn't the sharpness of the sensation—it was the relentless intensity. It felt like a knife repeatedly piercing the skin, a constant wave of torment with no reprieve.
Regeneration Progress: Hand = 74%; Leg = 62%
Day 70
The pain had grown so overwhelming that it was hard to focus on anything. It radiated from the regenerating areas to parts of my body that weren't even affected. The smallest tasks felt insurmountable.
Regeneration Progress: Hand = 79%; Leg = 69%
Day 73
The pain reached a new level, as if jagged teeth were being forced into my flesh. Vomiting became a regular occurrence, and dizziness was constant. Sleep became a luxury, achievable only with heavy sedatives.
Regeneration Progress: Hand = 89%; Leg = 77%
Day 76
The hand was fully regrown. The doctors confirmed that the blood circulation, muscles, and tendons were all properly formed. However, they said nothing about the nerves. Perhaps they forgot, or maybe they didn't want to discuss it.
Regeneration Progress: Hand = 100%; Leg = 90%
Day 79
The leg was finally complete. While the pain during this session was immense, there was a strange relief in knowing the treatment was nearly over. That thought made the experience feel lighter than it truly was.
Day 80
When the time came for the nightly trip to the basement, a doctor entered the room instead of the usual nurse.
"Your nerves aren't fully developed yet," he informed me.
"Can we proceed?" I asked, confused.
"Your body has adapted to the new tissues, but the nerves haven't fully extended."
"Can't they grow along the way?"
"Not with nerves," he replied. "We hoped they'd accelerate, but they haven't."
"What if I end treatment now?"
"You wouldn't be able to control your fingers or the muscles in your calf."
Silence filled the room. Finally, I nodded. "A few more days."
The doctor agreed. "Three more for the arm, five for the leg."
And so began the days I'd rather forget.
Days 81–82
Movement became impossible. Any slight action caused unbearable pain. Intravenous feeding replaced normal meals. Even the thought of eating triggered violent vomiting reflexes. The IV drip contained everything I needed—proteins, carbohydrates, fats, vitamins, and electrolytes—but being sustained this way only reminded me how fragile I had become.
Day 83–84
It felt like hell. I couldn't discern where he was or how much time had passed. The only breaks in his haze of suffering were the nurses entering periodically to change his IV preparations and the doctor checking his reflexes. Even though his vision blurred and refused to focus, sleep eluded him. The relentless pain and his time spent conscious in the capsule ensured that unconsciousness was impossible.
Day 85
The only clear memory I retained was the doctor's voice.
"Well done, you resisted. It's over."
Then, emptiness.
When Kail opened his eyes again, he was back in his room. The familiar white ceiling greeted him, but this time something felt different. He instinctively raised his hand—and it moved.
His hand.
The realization hit him like a wave of clarity. He clenched his fist experimentally, flexing his fingers, and felt the strength in his grip.
"Finally... this is what I lost."
He laughed, the sound unrestrained, almost hysterical.
"I have an arm and a leg!"
His joy felt almost surreal, like something worth shouting into the void. He didn't care who heard him—this was for himself.
But the door to his room opened, interrupting his celebration. His doctor walked in, his expression caught somewhere between stern and amused.
"What are you doing?! Have you completely lost your mind? Take care! Your limbs are extremely fragile. You could easily break a bone—or worse, a muscle!"
"You're pulling harder on my limbs than I am! What kind of doctor are you?"
"A very good one—the first in history to grow fully functional new limbs."
Karl froze for a moment, taking in the sheer audacity of the man's response. Then, he let out a weak laugh.
"This is what I suffered for."
"And I managed the preparations, the dosages, your condition, and the growth process."
The casual way the doctor dismissed Kail's ordeal left him momentarily stunned. Then, he slumped back into the bed, a mix of exhaustion and gratitude taking over.
"Thank you... You've given me back the life I thought I'd lost."
"Don't exaggerate," the doctor replied, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I just did my job."
Karl studied him for the first time. A man, probably around 30 years old, stood before him, with dark brown hair, piercing green eyes behind glasses, and a posture that screamed precision and confidence.
"Still," Karl said, focusing again, "I had to endure hell for this."
"That's what they say—only the cheese in the trap is free. Speaking of challenges, though, how are you not experiencing any pain right now?"
The doctor adjusted his stance before answering.
"After the session on day 85 ended, we placed you in an artificial coma. During the following two days, we ensured that the effects of the regeneration stimulator had completely worn off. Then, we performed dialysis to remove all remaining stimulants and preparations from your bloodstream. Your tissues have returned to their normal metabolic state, so the pain is gone. You woke up once your body stabilized."
Karl nodded slowly, processing the explanation.
"So, now what?"
"As planned, the next step is your adaptation process. You'll also begin building muscle mass in your new limbs because—let's be honest—your right side currently looks like it belongs to a malnourished vegetarian."
Karl couldn't help but chuckle at the dry remark, though it stung slightly.
July 28, 3104