By 7 PM, Joo-Hee finally managed to convert most of her mana into a form with healing properties—a significant breakthrough. However, the conversion process was painfully slow, leaving her uneasy.
"Small progress is still a progress..." she muttered to herself, frowning. "But... at this speed, I'd be better off waving a white flag if anything serious happens in the dungeon."
She rubbed her temples, taking a long breath. "Okay, stop. Rushing and complaining won't fix anything. Focus, Joo-Hee." Her eyes narrowed as clarity replaced her earlier frustration.
The truth settled heavily in her chest: she had relied too much on her system. It had been her crutch, always there to guide her.
"Well, no use whining about it now. If I have to rebuild everything from the basics, then so be it," she admitted with a bitter smile.
Determined, she straightened her back and resumed her meditation. This time, she focused entirely on honing her mana conversion process. The seconds felt like hours, but she pushed through, her breaths steady and her mind calm.
"Channel it... refine and attune it... faster, smoother... I can do this," she thought, repeating the mantra in her head.
An hour later, she opened her eyes, a flicker of triumph sparking within them. "Six minutes faster," she noted with a small nod. "Not groundbreaking, but it's quite good."
By 10 PM, three grueling hours of relentless practice had brought her into a near-trance state. Her body was stiff, her stomach empty, but her focus didn't waver. The once-clunky process now felt smoother, her mana flowing with a rhythm that came naturally.
Near midnight, after hours of uninterrupted effort, she exhaled deeply, and a faint green-yellow mist escaped her lips. A weight seemed to lift off her shoulders as relief washed over her.
"This should be good enough," she murmured, her voice carrying both exhaustion and satisfaction. "As long as I keep my mind sharp tomorrow, I should be able to do my part."
Channeling her mana from her core to her hands, Joo-Hee focused with newfound clarity. For the first time that day—without the system's guidance—the energy in her palms transformed completely, radiating a gentle, golden-green glow. It pulsed faintly, a pure manifestation of healing mana.
She stared at the radiant light, her eyes widening in awe. "Magic... is really beautiful," she whispered, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at her lips.
The shimmering aura enveloped her hands like a soft mist, tangible proof of her success.
But it didn't end there. With a wry, worried smile, Joo-Hee muttered to herself, "This is just the start, isn't it? Looks like another all-nighter for me. After all, I have to at least get the hang of Healing Touch before tomorrow."
Her legs felt stiff as she stood up and stretched, groaning at the discomfort.
She stretched her stiff arms with a groan, mumbling, "Ugh, how do those monks and Taoists manage to sit like statues for hours? My legs are practically screaming at me."
A loud growl from her stomach broke the silence, making her wince. She rubbed her belly with a sheepish grin.
"Alright, alright, food first. Can't afford to pass out now."
After hastily preparing a meal, she scarfed it down, savoring the brief moment of respite.
She scanned her room and spotted her houseplant. Picking it up, she gave it an apologetic look. "Sorry, buddy, but I don't have another test subject right now."
Grabbing her sword, she carefully nicked one of its branches, wincing as she saw the small cut and prepared herself for the task ahead.
The process wasn't as simple as infusing the wound with healing mana. Instead, she had to analyze the injury, letting her mana flow into the wound and carefully infusing the cells to trigger a regenerative response.
This wasn't something she instinctively knew—it was an insight she had gained when her skill had leveled up. Healing in this precise manner—rather than brutishly flooding the area with mana—was far more efficient and minimized energy consumption.
The challenge, however, lay in maintaining enough focus to analyze the cells and guide the mana toward regeneration. She closed her eyes, channeling her mana to the cut.
For ten minutes, she simply allowed herself to feel the flow of energy, differentiating between the damaged and healthy cells.
Time stretched on. Half an hour passed, and Joo-Hee resisted the urge to rush the process. She meticulously moved back and forth, carefully feeling the minute changes in the injured area. Slowly, she adjusted her mana, working methodically.
By 2 AM, something shifted. A faint warmth spread through her hands, and she opened her eyes to find the branch whole again. Her jaw dropped as her heart leapt with joy while jumping up from her spot.
She pumped her fist in the air, but her excitement quickly gave way to exhaustion. Her body felt like a ragdoll, her mana reserves halved from countless trials and errors.
Dropping to her knees, she let out a weak laugh. "Who knew fixing a plant could be this satisfying... I can't believe I actually pulled it off in just 2 hours."
As Joo-Hee lay on the floor, exhausted from hours of practice, a new thought began to gnaw at her mind. But will this be enough? She had just healed a plant, but she hadn't tried it on a human wound.
She stared at her hands, trembling slightly as she contemplated the next step. Joo-Hee immediately shook her head to dispel the thought.
"NO", she told herself firmly.
She hesitated, though. The idea of cutting herself was not one she relished. It felt wrong. Yet, she knew that unless she tested it on herself, how could she know if her progress was truly effective?
She looked up at the ceiling of her apartment, eyes unfocused as she pondered.
"Should I do it?" she wondered. "Just a cut... It won't hurt that much, right?"
But the longer she thought about it, the harder it became to take action. The thought of the pain, the blood—it paralyzed her.
Time passed, and with each second, her anxiety grew. She looked at the sword resting on the table beside her.
No, I have to do this... The thought echoed again and again, each repetition urging her on.
Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the sword. The cold steel felt heavier in her hand now, a reminder of the dangerous decision she was about to make.
"This is for my training," she told herself, trying to find some rationale.
"Just a little slice. A very, small cut?" She exhaled sharply. "Just do it, Joo-Hee."
With a swift motion with no hesitation, she pressed the blade against her flesh.
But the moment the blade met her skin, pain exploded through her arm. "SHITTT!" Her body went rigid, her breath catching in her throat. The pain was worse than she anticipated—sharp and immediate, like fire spreading through her veins.
DAMNN THIS SWORDDD! she screamed in her mind, realizing too late that she hadn't thought and considered the sword's cutting power. It was a C+ sword, sharp enough to cut deeper than she intended.
The wound was worse than she expected. It wasn't just a surface cut—it had sliced through her upper dermis, cutting deep enough to cause blood to pour from the wound. Panic gripped her chest as she looked at the blood dripping down her arm.
"Calm down. Focus. You've practiced for this!" she told herself desperately. She pressed her palm over the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood, her heart racing with panic.
She quickly wrapped it in a cloth to prevent further bleeding, knowing she didn't have much time. The pain was unbearable, an excruciating throb in her arm that seemed to pulse in time with her heartbeat.
With her hand shaking, she channeled all her energy into healing. The effort was brutal—each pulse of mana felt like it was fighting against her own body, as if her cells themselves were rebelling.
The pain... it was unbearable. Her skin burned where her mana touched it, and the wound seemed to mock her attempts to heal it.
One minute, she thought, gritting her teeth. The blood continued to drip, but her mana was working, forcing the wound to close, if only a little.
Three minutes later, she was still pushing, forcing herself to concentrate despite the growing dizziness and pain. Every second felt like an eternity. The wound wasn't closing fast enough; it felt as though the blood loss was too much.
Five and a half minutes... The healing mana in her wound felt like fire searing through her flesh. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, her body slick with sweat. She clenched her teeth harder, forcing herself not to scream, her eyes locked onto the wound, refusing to look away.
The darkness around the edges of her vision seemed to grow, but she pressed on. FINALLY! It's working! I can feel it.
After what felt like an eternity, seven minutes passed. The wound began to close, the blood flow slowing to a trickle, and then stopping entirely. The pain didn't cease, but it dulled to a throbbing ache, leaving her exhausted and trembling with relief.
She looked down at the healed, bruised wound, her skin still raw but intact. She let out a shaky breath and slumped forward.
"NEVER! EVER! AGAIN!," she swore to herself, her voice barely a whisper. She'd never put herself through this again. The sensation of the sword slicing into her skin, the pain that had nearly driven her mad—it was real.
"Did I go insane?! What the hell was I thinking?!" She lay there, exhausted and trembling. The reality of what she had done began to sink in.
The memory of the pain seemed to linger, and she promised herself, No more self-experimentation. Not like that. I'll never do that again.
On the ground, the self-traumatized Joo-Hee resumed her 'practice,' this time focusing on her friendly houseplant...