Chương 2: CHAPTER 1: REBIRTH OF A FAILED REINCARNATOR

When I finally opened my eyes, the first thing I noticed wasn't the beautiful, stylized fantasy scenery around me. It was the complete, jarring absence of pain. For the first time in years, my back didn't ache from a nineteen-hour standing shift. My eyes didn't burn under harsh operating room lights, and my chest didn't feel heavy with chronic exhaustion. My mind felt lighter, sharper, and completely re-energized. Then, I looked down at my hands. They were smaller. Significantly smaller.

The calluses I had developed from years of tightly gripping steel scalpels at AIIMS Delhi were completely gone. Instead, these were the smooth, unblemished hands of a teenager. I panicked, my heart hammering against my ribs as I rapidly touched my face, tracing a jawline that felt far too soft, before desperately pressing two fingers against my left wrist. Thump, Thump, Thump Okay. I had a pulse this time. A strong, steady, youthful rhythm. Good. At least I wasn't a ghost.

I was wearing slightly ragged, faded traveling clothes that smelled faintly of pine needle smoke and earth. But as I tried to piece together how I had ended up sitting on the mossy floor of this dense, ancient-looking forest, a strange, dizzying sensation hit my brain. My memories of my past life were flawless. My training as a high-level cardiothoracic surgeon, my chaotic but fulfilling life in Uttar Pradesh, and my bizarre, sudden meeting with Yamraj were all crystal clear.

I could still recite entire medical textbooks word-for-word if I wanted to. But everything else—who this fifteen-year-old body originally belonged to, where his parents were, or what he had been doing in this forest—had completely faded. It was like trying to recall a half-forgotten dream that slipped away the moment I woke up." Wait a minute," I muttered aloud, my voice sounding noticeably higher, cracking slightly with the unmistakable pitch of puberty.

"Yamraj told me that in this world, everyone gets a designated Job at age ten by visiting a church ceremony. If this body is already fifteen... that means he must have gone to the ceremony five years ago. What Job do I even have?" I closed my eyes and focused my mind, willing the world to give me an answer. Right on cue, a sharp ping echoed in my head, and a transparent, luminescent blue status screen materialized out of thin air, floating directly in front of my eyes.

[SYSTEM: STATUS WINDOW] [PROFILE] | [SKILLS] | [INVENTORY] [PROFILE INFORMATION] Name: Rudra Mishra Age: 15 Job: None (Unawakened / Failed Ceremony) [ATTRIBUTES] Intellect: High (Enhanced Memory Retention) Agility: High Defense: Low Mana: Moderate Attack Power: Moderate (Adjusted) [UNIQUE SKILL: Micro-Cellular Suture - Rank SSS] (Skill Evolved from 'Minor Suture') [SKILL EVOLUTION NOTICE: BASIC SKILL 'MINOR SUTURE' HAS MUTATED TO FIT THE REINCARNATO R'S PATHOLOGICAL INTELLECT.] Ability: Perform microscopic-level suturing, cellular alignment, and precise tissue repair on living biological structures with SSS-Rank accuracy.

Passive Effect: Absolute, hyper-focused understanding of biological micro-processes and anatomical structures upon physical contact. Active Effect: Direct, instantaneous cellular restoration. High potential for biological micro-manipulation. I stared at the glowing text in dead, unblinking silence.

"Eh? SSS-Rank? Seriously?" I rubbed my eyes hard, fully expecting the digital numbers to reset or fix themselves.

"No way. This has to be a visual glitch. I literally heard Yamraj tell Chitragupta to give me a garbage-tier, lowest-level basic skill just to get rid of me. Did the cosmic computer freeze? Did they copy-paste the wrong code into my profile?" As a doctor, I believed strictly in data, logic, and clinical evidence. There was absolutely no logical reason a basic, baseline spell meant for sealing minor paper cuts should possess the exact same divine ranking as a legendary, dragon-slaying holy sword."

Yeah, definitely a system display error," I rationalized, waving my hand through the air to dismiss the hovering blue screen.

"It's probably just a regular old, baseline Minor Suture. Which, honestly, is perfect. A garbage-tier skill means no one will look at me twice. I can finally live a quiet life, buy some cheap fantasy street food, and—" The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

ROOOOOAAAR! A deafening, ground-shaking roar tore through the quiet forest, shattering my thoughts. The sheer force of the sound caused the leaves above me to violently rustle, sending a flock of strange, multi-winged birds scattering into the sky. Not twenty yards away, a massive, terrifying creature crashed through the thick undergrowth. It looked like a wild boar, but it was easily the size of a small pickup truck, its shoulders heavily armored with jagged, iron-plated scales.

Its eyes glowed a furious, blood-red as it charged down a dirt path, slamming directly into a wooden merchant carriage. The wood splintered with a sickening crunch. Inside the ruined wreckage, a caravan guard dressed in leather armor lay collapsed against a broken wheel, clutching his chest and coughing up bright, frothy red blood.

My doctor instincts, hardwired into my very soul from years of handling brutal, high-stakes emergency room trauma at AIIMS, instantly overrode my brain before I could even think about the danger. My eyes swept across the bleeding guard. Bright, frothy blood from the mouth. Asymmetrical chest expansion. Tracheal deviation to the left. Distended neck veins. My clinical brain diagnosed it in less than a second: Tension pneumothorax. His lung is collapsing from trapped air, putting fatal pressure on his heart.

If I don't decompress his chest cavity in three minutes, he's a dead man.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me!"I cursed loudly, kicking my unaccustomed fifteen-year-old legs into a dead, desperate sprint toward the smoking wreckage.

"Day one in a new world, and it's already a code red!" The giant iron-plated boar roared again, circling back around as its heavy hooves tore up the dirt. It was lining up for a second, fatal charge to finish the job. Sprinting into the danger zone, I slid onto my knees beside the gasping guard. His breathing was shallow, his lips turning a dangerous shade of blue. I didn't have a scalpel. I didn't have a chest tube. I didn't have a sterile OR.

Grabbing a sharp, hollowed-out splinter of hard wood from the broken carriage frame, I hovered my hand over the right side of the guard's chest." Take a deep breath," I whispered, activating the foreign power humming in my veins. My hands suddenly erupted into a blinding, hyper-concentrated golden-blue light. The raw, microscopic cellular structure of the man's torn muscles and collapsing lung mapped itself perfectly out in my mind like a 3D medical hologram.

But just as I drove the sharp splinter down to decompress the pressure, a massive, suffocating shadow fell over us. The iron-plated boar had finished its turn. Its red eyes locked onto me, its massive tusks scraping against the dirt as it prepared to trample both of us into the earth. I didn't look up. I didn't stop." Keep absolutely still," I growled through my teeth to the dying man, my glowing hands sinking deeper into the wound, "or my stitch will slip."

The moment the command left my lips, the chaotic world around me seemed to decelerate into absolute slow motion. The frantic pounding of my heart morphed into a steady, rhythmic clinical metronome. My glowing fingers drove the sharp, hollowed-out wooden splinter straight through the guard's second intercostal space at the midclavicular line, perfectly avoiding the neurovascular bundle underneath the rib.

Psssshhhhhh! A violent, high-pressure hiss of trapped air exploded through the hollow wood, spraying a warm mist of crimson blood right across my face. Instantly, the suffocating pressure inside his chest dropped, and his collapsing right lung began to desperately re-expand. [SYSTEM: DECOMPRESSION SUCCESSFUL. CELLULAR DISRUPTION HALTED.] [WARNING: TARGET REPAIR INCOMPLETE. ACTIVE STITCH REQUIRED TO SE AL I NTERNAL L UNG L ACERATION.] As the system warning flashed, my vision suddenly shifted, zooming in with terrifying magnification. The macro-world of the dark forest faded into a hyper-detailed, high-resolution overlay. I wasn't just looking at torn tissue anymore—my SSS-Rank passive was showing me the raw cellular matrix itself. I could see the ruptured alveoli leaking air like popping balloons and the jagged tear in the visceral pleura looking like a massive canyon. Threads of pure, condensed blue mana spun out of my fingertips.

They weren't thick like rope; they were micro-filaments thinner than a strand of DNA. Guided by my ingrained surgical instincts, the glowing blue filaments began to dance.

Left margin to right margin. Throw a knot. Secure the apex. The unique skill didn't just smash the tissue together like generic healing magic; it was literally performing a microscopic, continuous over-and-over suture line, re-aligning the phospholipid bilayers of the cells and airtight-sealing the pleural membrane. Every single stitch locked into place with a tiny flash of golden light.

[SYSTEM: UNIQUE SKILL 'MICRO-CELLULAR SUTURE' WORKING AT 100% EFFICIENCY.] [CELLULAR ALIGNMENT RATE: 34%... 58%... 82%...] CRASH! The illusion of slowed time shattered instantly as the thunderous sound of snapping branches roared into my ears. The creature was less than five feet away, its massive, yellowed tusks aimed directly at my ribs with enough velocity to turn my new fifteen-year-old body into a pile of broken bones. My status screen violently flashed red. [WARNING! TARGET RE-EVALUATION!] [SPECIES: IRONHIDE CALAMITY BOAR — RANK C] [ALERT: RANK-C MONSTERS POSSESS MANA-REINFORCED ARMOR. RUN IMMEDIATELY.] My jaw dropped.

A Rank-C?! No wonder this thing was a walking mountain—its jagged iron scales were humming with a dark, terrifying purple mana aura.' Agility: High!' My reflexes, now augmented by the system, fired at a sports-car pace. Without breaking the continuous stitch, my left hand grabbed the collar of the guard's heavy leather armor. Pushing off the muddy ground with my right boot, I channeled every ounce of my newly granted agility into a desperate, violent lateral dive.

WHOOSH! The massive bulk of the pickup-truck-sized boar barreled right through the space we had occupied a fraction of a second ago. The sheer wind pressure from its speed clipped my shoulder, spinning us across the dirt and crashing us into a thick thicket of thorny bushes. We tumbled into the undergrowth, the thorns tearing at my ragged clothes but hiding us from plain sight. I landed hard on my side, my lungs gasping for air, but my fingers were still glowing, still buried firmly against the guard's chest."

Hold... onto your breath..." I panted, blinking away the sweat and dirt from my eyes as my fingers flew through the final sequence. Lock the final knot. Cut the strand. Flash! A brilliant wave of gold-blue energy rippled through the guard's entire torso. The hollow wooden splinter gently slid out of his chest as the underlying muscle layers and skin cells aggressively knit themselves closed, leaving behind nothing but a clean, faint pink line where a fatal wound had been seconds ago.

[SYSTEM: MICRO-CELLULAR SUTURE COMPLETED SUCCESSFULLY.] [PATIENT STATUS: STABLE. LUNG CAPACITY 100% RESTORED.] The guard's chest rose and fell in a deep, healthy pattern. His eyes snapped open, and he stared at his own chest, then up at me in absolute, unadulterated shock." What... what did you just do? The pain... it's completely gone. Who are you?" Before I could answer, the Rank-C Ironhide Calamity Boar skidded to a halt down the path, its heavy hooves digging deep furrows into the earth.

It slowly turned around, its glowing red eyes scanning the darkness, hunting for the two prey that had somehow escaped its tusks. It lowered its armored head, preparing to trample the entire thicket into dust. I braced my feet against the mud, preparing to leap.' Okay, Yamraj, if I can stitch cells... let's see if I can stitch this monster's eyes shut.' But before the beast could step forward, a sudden, blinding flash of silver light illuminated the entire forest.

CRACK-SHHHHH! The sound wasn't an explosion; it was the sharp, terrifying whistle of a blade cutting cleanly through the sound barrier. A lone figure clad in pristine, royal midnight-blue armor embroidered with a golden lion crest materialized directly above the monster. With a single, fluid downward arc of his silver greatsword, a colossal wave of compressed air pressure split the night. The Rank-C Calamity Boar didn't even have time to roar.

The blade passed through its mana-reinforced iron scales like a hot knife through butter. A split second later, the massive, thousand-pound beast was cleanly sliced into two perfect halves, collapsing to the left and right with a thunderous crash, drenching the dirt road in crimson. Silence fell over the woods. The knight calmly sheathed his blade, his eyes scanning the area. He was a R oyal Vanguard his sharp eyes locked directly onto our thicket.

He stepped forward, parting the bushes, expecting to find the carriage guard dead from a crushed chest cavity. What he saw made his stoic, battle-hardened expression completely shatter. The carriage guard was sitting up, breathing perfectly, his skin flushed with a healthy color. Standing right beside him was a ragged, fifteen-year-old vagrant boy whose hands were fading from a brilliant, unheard-of gold-blue luminescence. The Royal Guard's hand instinctively twitched toward his sword hilt.

He had seen high-tier Clerics and Holy Mages chant elaborate, five-minute incantations just to close a simple sword gash. But this kid? There was no chant. No holy magic circle. The speed and sheer molecular nature of that residual gold-blue mana didn't belong to any magical school in the kingdom." You..." The knight's voice was low, laced with absolute disbelief as he stared at my hands." What kind of healing job was that?"