Ars groaned, staring at the stark white hospital ceiling, feeling both the weight of his injuries and his financial woes. He had a full-body cast, a throbbing headache, and a bill looming over him that could probably fund a mid-tier anime studio for a month.
"This is it," Ars muttered. "This is where my life officially becomes a bad gag anime."
As if to mock him, the TV in his room blared a cheesy medical drama where the protagonist miraculously recovered and went on to save the hospital. Ars grimaced.
"Yeah, sure, Mr. Perfect Doctor. But can you save my wallet?"
A nurse walked in, cheerful and unbothered. She adjusted his IV drip with the grace of someone who didn't just hand him a bill resembling a villain's ransom demand.
"You're looking better today, Mr. Segrain!" she chirped.
"Better?" Ars quipped, motioning weakly at his cast. "I look like a poorly wrapped action figure."
The nurse smiled politely, clearly immune to sarcasm. "Get plenty of rest! We'll bring your lunch shortly."
As soon as she left, Ars sighed heavily. He needed a plan. Staying in the hospital wasn't an option; his bank account barely had enough to cover instant noodles, let alone a medical bill.
"Think, Ars. Think!" he muttered, his anime-trained mind trying to conjure a solution.
Suddenly, an idea struck him. It wasn't brilliant or safe, but it was desperate enough to work. He glanced at the hospital window, then at his immobilized body, then back at the window.
"Could I… jump?" he mused aloud. "Surely, the ground would be merciful."
He peeked outside. The hospital courtyard looked oddly inviting with its neatly trimmed bushes and grass. A pigeon cooed, almost encouraging him.
Then reality hit. He was on the sixth floor. Six stories of freefall.
"Hmm," Ars mused, weighing his options. "What's a few more broken bones compared to lifelong debt?"
Determined, he started shifting his body toward the edge of the bed. The process was agonizingly slow, given his casts and bruises.
"Come on, legs, work with me here," he grumbled.
After what felt like an eternity, Ars managed to topple out of bed with a loud thud.
"Ow." He blinked. "Okay. First hurdle cleared."
Dragging himself across the floor like a determined caterpillar, Ars finally reached the window. With a monumental effort, he pushed it open. A gust of fresh air hit his face, and for a moment, he felt free.
"This is it," Ars whispered. "The moment the protagonist defies all odds!"
With a deep breath, he launched himself out of the window.
For approximately three seconds, he felt weightless—almost like flying. But then gravity kicked in, reminding him that he was, in fact, not an anime protagonist.
The landing was spectacularly bad. Ars hit the bushes with a sickening crunch, his remaining functional bones officially joining the rest in solidarity.
"AAAAAAAAAAAARGH!" he screamed, flailing in the shrubbery. "WHY DIDN'T I THINK THIS THROUGH?!"
A passing gardener, alarmed by the noise, rushed over.
"Are you okay, young man?!"
"Do I look okay?!" Ars spat, though his voice was muffled by leaves.
Despite the agonizing pain, Ars couldn't help but feel a strange sense of pride. He had successfully escaped the hospital. Sure, he couldn't move, and sure, his situation was arguably worse now, but he was free.
Sort of.
Moments later, paramedics arrived and hauled Ars back into the hospital. Apparently, jumping out of a sixth-story window didn't exempt you from medical treatment—it just added to the bill.
As he was wheeled back to his room, the nurse from earlier frowned at him, hands on her hips.
"Mr. Segrain, what on earth were you thinking?"
"Escaping… financial ruin…" Ars groaned.
She sighed. "You know you can talk to our financial aid office, right?"
Ars blinked. "...What?"
"Yeah, we have payment plans. No need for, well…" She gestured vaguely toward the window.
Ars stared at her, his soul leaving his body.
"Why didn't anyone tell me this earlier?!" he wailed.
The nurse shrugged. "You didn't ask."
Defeated, Ars slumped in his wheelchair. But as his mind drifted into a haze of pain and regret, something strange happened. A spark lit up in his brain.
For a brief moment, he saw a flash of the gardener trimming bushes outside and remembered every movement, every technique. The memory wasn't just vivid—it felt like his knowledge now.
"What… was that?" Ars whispered.
Little did he know, this was the awakening of his cheat skill: the ability to copy and retain people's knowledge as his own.
But for now, Ars was just a broken young man, stuck in a hospital bed, lamenting his fate.
"This better lead to something cool," he muttered, glaring at the ceiling. "Like, seriously cool."