Time flowed like running water.
Some people said a day was too long.
That even if they did nothing, the sun would set, then rise again.
But Jin-woo was different.
‘Long? Don’t make me laugh.’
It was too short.
A day spent in the Magic Tower was always not enough.
Ore, the purification device, repairs.
From the moment he opened his eyes until he fell asleep, there was not a single gap.
And now the alchemy facility had opened, too.
‘I have to set priorities.’
Jin-woo slowly looked over the materials and organized his thoughts.
If he made the wrong choice, both time and materials would disappear at once.
‘For now… a hemostatic agent.’
What he needed most right now.
And what he could make with the materials he currently had.
“I’d like to make a potion if possible, but….”
The moment he said it, the answer he expected came back.
[Impossible.]
[Insufficient materials.]
[Potion production impossible with current facility.]
There was no hesitation in Lumina’s voice.
“I know. I do.”
Jin-woo smiled bitterly.
In the current situation, a potion was a luxury.
He knew better than anyone that a single bottle could change the tide of battle.
The problem was the materials and time required to make that one bottle.
A high-grade potion could even reattach a severed arm.
And—
‘An elixir.’
Something that did not reattach, but regenerated.
An existence rare enough to be counted on one hand even inside the Tower.
Jin-woo stopped his hands for a moment and recalled the past.
Until he climbed to the ninety-eighth floor, he had made an elixir only once.
He still vividly remembered how many materials and how much time he had to burn for that single time.
“…If only we’d had a few more bottles of that.”
One fewer person might have died.
No, perhaps everyone might have lived.
But assumptions like that were useless in the Tower.
Jin-woo shook his head and returned his gaze to the present.
“Right now, it’s a hemostatic agent.”
The most realistic choice.
The best he could do right now.
[Affirmative.]
With Lumina’s short answer, the choice was confirmed.
Jin-woo turned toward the workbench.
Now what remained was not speaking, but moving his hands.
***
“Bran herb… Replie….”
Jin-woo repeated the process aloud.
His hands were slow, and his eyes were even slower.
If he made even one mistake, it would become poison instead of medicine.
‘Thankfully, all the materials are here.’
Jin-woo looked over the workbench once.
“If they hadn’t been, I would’ve gone outside.”
The materials for a hemostatic agent could also be found on the first floor.
The problem was the place.
‘Where the herbs grow… there’s a Goblin settlement attached to it.’
If he was unlucky, he would run into them.
Right now, he had no room for an unnecessary fight.
For survival, the right answer was not to choose fights, but to avoid them.
‘I have to pay attention to Magic Tower Stability too.’
If he left the Magic Tower, its Stability fell.
If it went below 20%, he would receive a penalty.
‘I don’t know what the penalty is.’
There was no need to take it deliberately.
He did not want to deliberately experience a variable that could threaten his survival.
‘Even if I go out, there’s a limit to my activity time, so hunting Goblins for it is inefficient.’
That was a last resort.
Of course—
“I’ll clear them out someday.”
[Strongly recommended.]
[If hostile forces are neglected, survival chance decreases.]
Lumina’s judgment was the same.
Monsters were not targets for coexistence.
They were enemies of humanity, and in the end, existences that had to be eliminated.
Jin-woo suddenly recalled a scene from before the Regression.
“Monsters are living beings too.”
Someone had once said that with a serious face.
Jin-woo stopped his hands and thought for a moment.
Then he twisted the corner of his mouth.
“A good monster?”
A short silence had flowed.
“The good monsters I knew… all failed to stay ‘good’ until the end.”
And that Hunter was killed by the monster he had believed he had a bond with.
Without understanding why until the very end.
“Enough.”
Jin-woo shook his head as if brushing off distracting thoughts.
He focused his awareness only on his fingertips.
He stirred slowly until the Bran herb dissolved completely.
So that the color would not turn muddy, and so that bubbles would not rise.
He kept the temperature steady, too.
‘Not yet….’
He lowered the flame by a very small amount.
He felt the liquid’s viscosity shift faintly.
“This should be about right.”
Jin-woo picked up the final powder.
A pinch was enough.
When the powder mixed in, the liquid trembled for a moment.
Soon, the color stabilized.
It turned red.
Then a very small ‘tap’ came from inside the alchemy cauldron.
Jin-woo’s hand stopped half a beat.
“…That sound again?”
This time, for an internal reaction, it was subtly long.
It resembled the sound of something cracking.
[Not an external impact.]
[Cause: internal pressure/residual mana response estimated.]
Jin-woo stared at the cauldron for a moment, then turned off the fire.
‘It’s probably my imagination.’
“It’s done.”
He turned off the flame and transferred the cooled liquid into a container.
When he closed the lid, the faint mana inside subsided.
[Crafting complete.]
[Hemostatic Agent]
[Grade: E]
[Effect: bleeding suppression, infection chance reduction]
It was Lumina’s report.
And—
Ding!
《You have succeeded in crafting a hemostatic agent necessary for survival.》
《Survival EXP accumulates.》
He gained EXP, too.
Jin-woo lifted the container and held it up to the light.
There were no impurities visible.
No sediment, either.
‘Usable.’
Its effect was weaker than a potion’s.
At best, it suppressed bleeding and prevented infection.
But in the Tower, that much was enough.
‘When there were no potions… there was no answer except this.’
Before the Regression, there had been a time when their potions had run out completely.
Each individual wound had been minor.
Only.
‘The problem was that it didn’t happen just once a day.’
Every time a battle ended, every time they fled, blood leaked out.
And as time passed, the body stopped reacting first.
What Jin-woo had taken out then was precisely this hemostatic agent.
It was a red liquid.
If he dropped a single drop on a wound, the spreading blood stopped.
As if it had been pressed down and stamped in place.
It was not enough to call treatment, but it bought the “time” needed not to collapse.
That was why Hunters did not call this a substitute for potions.
From the day potions ran out, this gained a separate name.
“Everyone’s Red Medicine.”
It was a name they had given it as a joke, but on the floors where that name actually spread, no one could laugh.
Nights when they placed one bottle in the middle, soaked bandages with it, and shared them.
“Leave just one drop.”
“We have to last until the next engagement.”
The more the red liquid decreased, the more color drained from their faces first.
Some dropped it onto wounds, and others soaked it into bandages to share.
When the bottom of the container came into view, someone was the first to count the “drops.”
Everyone knew it was weaker than a potion.
Even so, they could not let it go.
Because it let them endure today, at least.
‘If we hadn’t had this back then….’
The thought naturally cut off.
Because he already knew the result.
Jin-woo packed the hemostatic agent.
This was not a substitute.
In a situation with no potions, it was the realistic answer that had to be chosen in order to survive.
“Hmm….”
Jin-woo looked down at the hemostatic agent for a moment.
The glass container in his hand felt heavier than he had expected.
‘It’s the kind of thing that’s best if I never use it.’
At that moment, a familiar voice overlapped inside his head.
[Hemostatic Agent confirmed.]
[Effective for immediate bleeding suppression, but recovery effect is limited.]
[Recommended use condition: immediately after trauma occurs.]
[Decision to store it for preparation against prolonged combat is reasonable.]
Jin-woo packed the hemostatic agent without any particular answer.
He had already reached the same conclusion.
He rose to his feet.
“The hemostatic agent is ready…….”
He raised his gaze and scanned the inside of the Magic Tower.
“Next is the A-2 corridor.”
[Affirmative.]
[Mana circulation anomaly discovered at A-2 point.]
Jin-woo quietly moved on.
***
At that moment.
While Jin-woo was inspecting the A-2 corridor and continuing repairs, a very faint vibration came from the Mana Stone Mine.
It felt as if the air, not the ground beneath his feet, was trembling first.
Jin-woo looked in that direction once, then turned his gaze away.
It was not a problem he could deal with right now.
Even so—
Somewhere in his mind whispered, ‘This will come back like a boomerang later.’
Somewhere inside the Mana Stone Mine, the balance had begun to slip very slightly.
It was not mana circulation.
It was on the mine support structure side.
Very faintly—
‘CRACK.’
It was too small to hear with the ears.
And too precise to ignore.
***
The sounds of metal striking overlapped and echoed.
The dull sound of a pickaxe biting into bedrock, followed by short breaths.
Before the Regression, in a mine where “people still remained.”
“Hey, don’t dig too far there. Safety first. It’ll collapse.”
A casually tossed remark.
Rather than a warning, it was more like the rule of that time.
Jin-woo nodded and changed the angle slightly.
“I’ll take this side.”
“Yeah. Then I’ll haul it.”
A short exchange.
That was enough.
There was no need to explain who had to do what.
Their pace had already matched.
“This mine’s in good condition, huh?”
“Right? If Orichalcum came out, that would be a jackpot.”
It was an absurd thing to say, but the mood was light.
“Then what should we make?”
“Obvious. A pickaxe.”
Laughter burst out.
“Hey, if you make a pickaxe out of something that precious, they’ll call you insane.”
“Still, if you use good equipment, the work goes better.”
Jin-woo added.
“Good. But that means you work that much more. Overtime, agreed?”
The grumbling continued, but their hands did not stop.
The work was fast.
It was hard, but not overwhelming.
Even if one person stopped their hands for a moment, the other side naturally continued.
Even if a mistake happened, it was not an individual’s problem.
“What should we eat when we’re done?”
“Anything. Something warm.”
It was a meaningless remark.
And yet, strangely, only those words remained.
Because after that, there was no one left to say “when we’re done.”
“Ah.”
Jin-woo opened his eyes.
The ceiling came into view.
The familiar interior of the Magic Tower.
No sound could be heard aside from his breathing.
He lay there for a moment, then sat up.
He tried moving his hands.
There was no problem.
“……I should start with what I have to do.”
Today, too, the mine inspection came first.
Except for the fact that there was no one to answer him, it was the same as yesterday.
Ding!
《DAY -19 ended.》
《Survival EXP accumulates.》
Another day began.
***
His daily routine was always similar.
There was no separate morning, and no clear night.
When he opened his eyes, there were things he had to do, and as he dealt with them one by one, the day had ended.
He mined Mana Stones.
He filled the fuel.
He drew water and circulated energy.
He activated the transmutation Magic Engineering device.
‘If even one thing goes wrong, there’s no tonight.’
Once a day.
Refinement amount: 500 g.
It was not enough.
That was why he could not stop.
The moment the device stopped—
The next to stop would be the person.