The countdown had hit while she was deep in the med room. That cursed System’s timer reached zero, and the world ended. Or rather, Earth ended. Humanity was just... moved. Relocated like unwanted lab rats.
Because Jean had been on shift when it happened, she’d been Integrated into Eden with the people around her—three inmates and her pharmacy manager. A real piece of work, that one. Everyone in the facility knew he was supplying drugs to half the prison. He acted like a manager, but he ran the place like a cartel kingpin. Of course he was working that night. Of course the System kept them together. It was her damn luck.
She lay quiet in the underbrush, her breath shallow, trying to ignore the pounding in her head. She hadn’t heard them in hours—maybe longer. How had they even caught up to her? She was sure she’d lost them yesterday. She hadn’t stopped moving since.
Her black robes were shredded, thorns and brambles having clawed their way through the fabric and into her skin. Shallow cuts stung along her arms and legs, but it was her side that threatened to end her. That pale, wiry inmate—the one with the kraken tattoo curling up his neck—had caught her off guard. One slash, quick and cruel, had opened her up.
But she hadn’t gone down without a fight.
The moment pain exploded in her side, she’d pivoted on instinct, hand already glowing with the forming core of a Mana Bolt. It wasn’t precise—she hadn’t had time for finesse—but the sheer panic behind it packed more power than usual. The spell cracked into his chest like a thunderclap, sending him stumbling back into the trees with a choked grunt. Not dead. But limping. And definitely not eager for a second round.
She didn’t wait to see where he landed. She ran. Ran until her lungs burned and her robes were more bramble than fabric. Now the wound wept freely, blood soaking into the dirt beneath her.
Her potion pouch was gone—ripped from her belt during the ambush. All she had left was her metal staff, and that stupid mana flint the System gave her. Not much use when you were bleeding out in the woods.
She’d only taken that stupid job in the prison pharmacy because it was close to her dorms—ten minutes tops, no traffic, no fuss. "You won't have to interact with the inmates. It's strictly a lab-based role." That’s what that smug HR woman had promised with her fake-smile confidence. But this wound tearing through her side? Yeah. That felt pretty damn interactive. If Jean ever saw that woman again, she had a Mana Bolt with her name on it—signature spell delivery, no charge.
Jean had to risk it. She pushed herself upright with a hiss, grimacing as her hand came away slick with blood. She peeled back what was left of her robe and checked the wound.
Low and lateral... maybe it had missed anything major. No arterial spray, at least. But she couldn’t be sure—not without gloves, gauze, or a goddamn light. She was guessing in the dark, both literally and medically.
Night was falling fast, shadows stretching longer through the trees. The forest around her was beginning to blur into a wall of silence and gloom. She began to walk.
She was used to clean counters, labelled vials, and the hum of refrigeration units—not blood in the dirt and shadows between trees. Five-foot-nothing of sarcasm and caffeine, her biggest stress should’ve been juggling work shifts with her university schedule, not navigating a magical warzone with a hole in her side.
A faint glow shimmered in the distance, a strange, pulsing contrast to the encroaching darkness of the forest. It pulled at her like a lifeline, something—anything—that wasn’t more blood or shadows. She pushed toward it, legs unsteady.
The light led her to a small pond nestled in a shallow hollow. The water glowed faintly, catching reflections from the bioluminescent plants clustered around its edge. Mushrooms radiated a soft violet hue, their caps twitching slightly in the breeze, while thick-leafed shrubs glittered with dew that sparkled like stars. It was the most beautiful thing she’d seen since arriving. And a plant caught her eyes.
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Tiny white petals with feathery leaves—she recognized that shape immediately. It looked like yarrow. Her grandmother had been obsessed with old herbal remedies, always dragging Jean out to gather wild plants whether she wanted to or not. It was one of the reasons she'd pursued pharmacy in the first place.
Jean knelt beside the plant, brushing her fingers gently across the delicate leaves. "Are you watching over me, Granny?" she murmured, a shaky smile tugging at her lips as her vision blurred with tears. She was grateful her grandmother hadn’t lived to see this twisted new world. No way would she want her to endure this hellscape.
But still... maybe some of what she taught had survived the crossing. As she looked at the plant the identify skill activated.
[Whisperleaf – Inferior]: A small herb with delicate white petals and feathery leaves. Contains trace amounts of mana, causing a faint bioluminescent glow in low light. Known for its mild healing and mana-regeneration properties. With many alchemical uses.
She snapped into action. Carefully, she harvested a handful of Whisperleaf, mindful not to take more than she needed. There were plenty, but wasting resources in this world felt like tempting fate.
At the edge of the pond, she spotted a smooth, flat rock—perfect. She laid the leaves across it, grabbed her staff, and began grinding the plant into pulp. It wasn’t elegant, but it worked. She added small amounts of pond water, mixing slowly until the mixture turned into a pale, glowing paste. Primitive, but promising.
Then she reached for her mana flint. She struck it carefully near the base of the rock, coaxing out a small, steady spark. With practiced patience, she guided the flame close to the paste—just enough to warm it, not scorch it. The scent shifted, deepened—bitter and sharp, like something waking up. Heating it seemed to activate something in the mixture. Looking at the mixture, her identify skill activated again.
[Primitive Whisperleaf Poultice – Inferior]: A crudely prepared topical mixture made from Whisperleaf. When applied to an open wound, it initiates minor health regeneration over time and slightly boosts mana recovery. Limited effectiveness due to low-tier preparation.
Jean peeled away her robe and carefully rinsed the gash with pond water, wincing as the cold hit raw flesh. She pressed the warm poultice to her side, the glowing paste sinking into the wound with a soft hiss. A subtle wave of warmth radiated through her body, and she felt a slow trickle of mana seep into her core—gentle, but steady. Her HP and MP began to rise—slowly, just a few points at a time—but they were going up. It was enough.
A chime echoed in her mind, sharp and sudden—startling her more than it should have. The System notification flashed before her eyes, crisp and glowing, cutting through her exhaustion like a scalpel:
Profession Unlocked: [Alchemy – Beginner Level 1]
You have crafted a functional healing item using natural materials, improvised tools, and ambient mana. Your knowledge of chemistry, intuition, and desperation have forged a path few take willingly.
Level-Up Bonus: Intellect: +3, Wisdom: +3 , Vitality: +3, Perception: +2, +2 Free Stat Points
Updated Attributes:
- Strength: 4→ 4(+0)
- Agility: 6→ 6(+0)
- Intellect: 10 → 13 (+3)
- Wisdom: 9→12(+3)
- Vitality: 6→ 9(+3)
- Endurance: 5 → 5(+0)
- Toughness: 4 → 4 (+0)
- Perception: 7 → 9 (+2)
Skills Acquired:
[Basic Extraction – Inferior]: Uses mana to extract alchemical properties from raw ingredients. The effectiveness and purity of the extract scale with the quality of the resource and the user's Intellect and Wisdom.
[Field Brewing – Common]: Enables the creation of basic alchemical mixtures using improvised tools and natural ingredients. Crafting speed, success rate, and potion potency scale with Wisdom and Perception.
Skill Upgrade:
[Identify – Inferior] → [Botanical Analysis – Common]: Enhances the [Identify] skill for plants, fungi, and alchemical components. Reveals detailed information including rarity, alchemical potential, extraction methods, and compatible ingredients.
Jean stared at the glowing notification. “Alchemy. Guess I finally found a use for that student debt.
This was Jean’s first level, and for the first time since waking up in this nightmare world, she felt a flicker of hope. Maybe—just maybe—she could survive this.
She fell asleep in that glowing grove, the faint hum of Whisperleaf in the air, her body aching and blood-stained, but her spirit lifted. Exhausted from her career change—from junior pharmacist to fledgling alchemist—she drifted off with the System’s notification still flickering faintly in her mind.
He leaned back; brows furrowed.
"This is happening too fast," he murmured, his voice edged with unease. "They’re adapting quicker than expected. It won’t be long before the others notice."
The blue god's golden eyes lingered on the glowing script etched across the open tome before him—Jean’s name joining the others, her profession now inked into fate. The ink pulsed once, unsettlingly bright.
"The gods won’t like this," he whispered. "Not at all."