NPC Fell onto My Bed C6

Chapter 06

Whirr—whirr—

The powerful wind tousled Noah’s light-green hair, whipping it wildly in every direction. Fearing the strands might sting his eyes, he squeezed them shut.

Then thick, angular fingers wove carefully through his hair. Calloused hands brushed against his small head, sending faint, ticklish sensations over his scalp—yet the touch was cautious, almost tender.

“Um…”

Fortunately, Noah’s hair was short, and the wind ceased quickly. Opening his eyes, he awkwardly patted his now-dry hair and asked,

“What is this called?”

“Hair dryer.”

“Ah, a hair dryer. It produces winds warmer than even the fair breezes summoned by wind spirits.”

Noah’s golden eyes lingered curiously on the machine resting on the table. If he were to bring such an object back to his own world, every wind mage and spirit-caller would surely rush to see it in wonder.

“Spirits? Breezes? What are you talking about?”

Finishing the task with a towel, Taeheon gave a baffled snort. Spirits, magic—this man still spoke as though cut off from reality.

That was exactly how Taeheon regarded him this morning, just as he had yesterday. Let’s see how far he goes with this act. He introduced himself as a healer straight out of some RPG; how long would he keep up the role? Truth be told, it amused Taeheon. After losing judo, his life had been nothing but monotony, and this strange priest was the first entertaining thing to appear in a long time.

“All right. Enough of that. Let’s eat.”

“Eat? May I truly join you?”

“‘May I truly’—what nonsense. It’s only a meal.”

At the mention of food, Noah’s face brightened. In truth, he had been hungry since last night, but it had grown too late to trouble Taeheon with the matter. A priest must never appear greedy or gluttonous, so Noah had gone to sleep suppressing the ache in his stomach.

With Noah watching him expectantly, Taeheon rose and walked straight into the kitchen. He flung open the refrigerator.

“…”

“This… this cool-feeling contraption, what is it?”

Noah had followed behind and now peered into the fridge, his eyes wide.

“Refrigerator,” Taeheon said curtly.

“Refrigerator. And what is it used for?”

“…For storing food.”

“But there is no food inside.”

The words were spoken with pure curiosity. Indeed, the fridge was nearly empty. Even a single bottle of water might have lent credibility to its purpose, but no—there was nothing.

Back when he was an athlete, Taeheon had at least kept meat for protein. But since quitting judo, his appetite had died. The fridge was now utterly barren. Closing the door with an awkward look, he muttered,

“We’ll order.”

“Order? Whom do you order? Do you have servants?”

Noah had already sensed Taeheon’s wealth; everything in the house gleamed as if brand new. In Noah’s world, nobles and great merchants always kept attendants, so he assumed the same here.

“No. Delivery.”

Taking out his phone, Taeheon tapped open a food app. As expected of a central Seoul apartment, every franchise and famed restaurant filled the screen. His thick finger scrolled slowly downward.

“What is that?”

“Phone.”

“And what is it for?”

“For contacting others.”

By now, Taeheon had grown used to Noah’s endless questions, answering mechanically, not even sounding annoyed.

Noah, on the other hand, grew ever more fascinated. He leaned close to watch the screen—and only when his face was nearly pressed against his did Taeheon jolt up from his seat.

“Here. Pick the one that looks tastiest.”

“M-me, Gu Taeheon-nim?”

“Yeah. Just choose.”

Having no appetite himself, Taeheon passed the choice over. Noah frowned, staring at the pictures with grave concentration. At last, his pale finger tapped the screen.

“Then… I will choose this.”

“What did you… A hamburger?”

A safe enough option for lunch. Nodding, Taeheon turned the screen back to himself and added several more items from the menu.

Meanwhile, Noah’s attention remained fixed on the device. He longed to see more of how it worked, but since Taeheon had shifted away earlier, he refrained.

“It’s ordered.”

“Then who brings it here?”

“A deliveryman. There are people whose job is to do that.”

At this, Noah let out a soft murmur of awe. What a curious world this was. People whose profession was simply to deliver food!

Noah thought back to his own life. He had lost his family to war when he was young and had been chosen by God to be a priest almost naturally. From childhood, his path had been decided. He had never once considered another vocation or dream.

Not every priest was a healer, but Noah had been gifted with rare talent. He had never regretted his calling, for though healing could be arduous, the joy of saving others always outweighed the burden.

“Ah—healing.”

His thoughts circled back to Taeheon’s leg, which he had touched yesterday but not fully discussed. With sudden resolve, Noah turned to him.

“Gu Taeheon-nim, I did not speak of your leg yesterday, as there was no time. Might I do so now?”

“…What about my leg?”

Taeheon’s tone was curt. He had nearly forgotten the matter. That strange glowing act yesterday he had dismissed, and he had not expected Noah to bring it up again today.

“Your leg has already been treated through the medicine of this world, has it not?”

“…”

Taeheon was silent. The words were true. Six months had passed since the accident. The surgeries were long over, and rehabilitation nearly complete. And yet, that was what deepened his despair.

He could walk again, yes. But judo was forever beyond him. His legs could not carry him back to the mat.

“It is unfortunate, but—”

Grinding his teeth, Taeheon stopped short. He had heard it all before, from countless doctors:

That his leg could not be restored.
That he would never again compete.

“Forget it—”

“At present, my healing power is not enough to mend you outright. It seems crossing into this world has reduced it to one-tenth of its strength. Therefore… I ask that you grant me three months.”

The brusque dismissal caught in Taeheon’s throat. He found himself staring, silenced, into eyes the color of gold.

“Three… months? You mean, in three months—?”

“Yes. Even diminished as I am, three months should be sufficient. Had this been my world, a single day would have sufficed. I am truly sorry.”

Bowing his head in apology, Noah’s face was earnest. How he wished he could have healed Taeheon’s leg in an instant, dazzling him with a miracle.

Taeheon, in contrast, looked dumbfounded. His leg—ruined, reconstructed with screws and plates—healed in three months? Not a year, not half a year, but a mere three months?

“Listen. I’m an athlete.”

“Oh! Were you? What sport did you practice? Surely you must have been splendid, Gu Taeheon-nim.”

“…Are you saying—you could restore my leg well enough for me to compete again?”

His voice was low, almost as if speaking to himself. Deep down, he already knew the truth. A leg rebuilt with metal could not be returned to what it was. Even if he walked, it could never again be the leg that had carried him only to victory.

“Yes.”

The word stunned him.

Noah’s long, green lashes fluttered, and his golden eyes shone like sunlight spilling over endless fields. In that moment, Taeheon thought—if God existed, surely He would look like this.

“Gu Taeheon-nim. My healing is not like a doctor’s. I do not simply close wounds, or cut away dead flesh to preserve what remains.”

Noah’s voice dropped, firm with conviction.

“My healing is restoration.”

“Restoration…?”

“In other words, I intend to turn back time itself—to return your leg to its original state.”