Jiang blinked groggily as the dull ache in his flippers reminded him of everything he had just gone through. He was no longer in the sewers, no longer fending off creatures in dark tunnels. Instead, he found himself lying on a worn-out mattress that was practically on the floor. The scent of stale fast food clung to the air, and faint sunlight filtered in through dirty windows.
The moment his senses adjusted, the system notification hovered before him, just like an annoying pop-up on a game screen.
Mission Accomplished. Reward: Your sense of smell returned.
"Smell?" Jiang muttered—or tried to. What came out was more of a nasal honk. He scrunched his beak in frustration. Great, he thought, I'm still a penguin.
Just as he was about to sit up and assess his surroundings, the door creaked open, and the woman entered. She seemed to breathe a sigh of relief upon seeing him awake.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, pulling up a rickety chair next to the bed.
Jiang opened his beak to respond, but the usual penguin noises escaped instead. He tried to muster up some form of coherent speech, but it was no use. To his surprise, she nodded as though she understood him.
"We have a Spirit Link now," she explained. "It's temporary, but it lets us communicate. I'll understand your honks and squawks for the time being."
Jiang's mind was still sluggish, but he managed to piece together a question. Who was that creature? he thought, and, of course, it came out as a soft honk.
Her face darkened. "That's a shadow that's been following me. It found you because of me, and now it's after us both."
Jiang felt a shiver run down his feathers. Just then, the system chimed in his head, interrupting their conversation in its usual cold, detached tone.
New Mission: Reach 100% synchronization. Time limit: 90 minutes.
His eyes widened in panic as he saw the notification. The words "punishment for failure: death" flashed ominously beneath the timer that had already started counting down.
The woman noticed his expression and leaned in closer. "What is it?"
Jiang flailed his flippers and honked loudly in alarm. She looked at him, startled. "What's wrong?"
"90 minutes!" he honked out, panic evident in his voice. "I have 90 minutes to hit 100% synchronization or… or…" He struggled to finish the thought.
Her expression quickly turned from concern to shock. "What?!"
Jiang was squawking at full volume now, a frantic noise that made the woman flinch. "I… I have to reach full synchronization or I die!"
The woman's eyes widened, and she blinked at him, seemingly processing the information. "Hit 100% in 90 minutes? That's… impossible."
"Tell that to the system!" Jiang honked, flapping his flippers in exasperation.
She stared at him, her face a mix of concern and confusion. "How are you supposed to do that?"
Jiang looked at her helplessly. "I don't know! And how am I supposed to be a penguin if both my flippers are broken?!" He waved his taped-up flippers in frustration.
The woman's gaze softened. "Hold on. Let me try something."
She muttered a few words under her breath, and a soft glow emanated from her hands. She placed them over his flippers, and a warm, tingling sensation spread through his body.
Jiang could feel the pain in his flippers starting to fade. Slowly, they began to move, no longer stiff and broken.
"There. That should help," she said, sitting back.
Jiang looked down at his now functional flippers, flapping them experimentally. "Why didn't you just heal me from the start instead of wrapping me in bandages?"
She gave him an amused look. "It's not pure healing magic. It just fixes the nerve endings and helps accelerate the healing process. It takes time to kick in. This was the second treatment."
Jiang groaned, but despite the frustration, he was already feeling better. At least now I can move.
"Great," he muttered to himself, his honk softer now. "Now what? I can stretch, maybe do a little slide?"
She smiled faintly. "Exactly. You're still a penguin."
Jiang grumbled but knew she was right. With no other option, he slid off the mattress and stood, stretching his flippers and waddling awkwardly around the room. He tried running, but his body still wasn't quite back to full strength.
"Ugh, this is embarrassing," he muttered, sliding awkwardly on the dirty floor.
The system suddenly pinged in his head: Synchronization increased by 5%. Current Synchronization: 65%.
He blinked. 65%? But I'm still not there!
Before he could fully comprehend what had happened, the system presented him with another notification.
Choose your upgrade ability: Ice Bullets or Enhanced Glide Speed.
Jiang's flippers froze mid-stretch as a small clock appeared above the notification, counting down from 10 seconds.
"Choose… my upgrade?" he thought aloud, panic rising again as the clock ticked down.
"Jiang?" the woman asked, noticing his expression. "What's happening now?"
"I need to choose an upgrade ability, but there's a time limit!" Jiang honked, his voice rising with panic. "Ten seconds!"
Her eyes widened. "What?! What are the choices?"
"Ice Bullets or Glide Speed!" Jiang shouted in alarm as the timer hit 5 seconds.
The woman blinked. "Go with the glide! Penguins are better at gliding!"
But Jiang was already lost in his thoughts. He flashed back to his childhood, remembering when he always picked the coolest-sounding powers in video games. Ice Bullets sounded way cooler than gliding, and before he knew it, his flipper instinctively selected it.
The system responded immediately: Ice Bullets selected. Synchronization penalty: -10% for choosing non-natural ability.