Infinite Mana Exorcist

A Disease?

Many derive hate and regret from it, while others develop a twisted form of hatred—one they can't quite understand.

At most, it hurts—not always physically, but mentally. Those afflicted with incurable diseases suffer the worst.

The countdown on their calendars marks their final moments. Locked away in sterile rooms, they have little to no chance of seeing their family, their loved ones, or even the world they once took for granted—perhaps even hated before.

That was the cost of an incurable disease. But only a few others, by some strange twist of fate, could find a sliver of joy in it—even if it was just a flicker in the darkness.

Yuka was one of those few.

He lay in his hospital bed, connected to life-support machines—not so many as to render him immobile, but just enough to keep his body in check. Tubes snaked around his arms, a steady beep monitored his heartbeat, and the dull hum of oxygen flowed through the room. Yet, instead of a downcast, hollow look—like the others around him—Yuka had a grin stretching from ear to ear.

His fingers moved furiously across his phone screen, tapping, swiping, and dodging in rapid succession. He wasn't just playing a game—he was living in it.

"Come on... dodge... but hit—his attack patterns changed again!"

His voice echoed through the large ward, loud enough to disrupt the silence of the other patients. Nurses who passed by merely shook their heads. They were used to him by now.

Yuka was on the final boss fight of one of the best RPGs ever made, the game he had sworn to complete before his time ran out. His fingers ached, his breathing was uneven, but none of that mattered. What mattered was winning.

On his screen, the colossal, demonic beast let out a roar, shaking the digital battlefield. His six teammates were all giving it their best from different corners of the world, their avatars fighting alongside him, each desperate to land the final blow.

"What the hell?!" a voice crackled through Yuka's earbuds. "I'm almost out of HP!"

"Same!" another teammate shouted.

Yuka barely heard them. His eyes darted to the status bars at the top of the screen.

Out of six, only three of them remained. The others? Dead. Their bars had turned blood-red, signifying their demise.

"Damn... we're running on fumes," Yuka muttered under his breath. He swiped at the screen, his character barely avoiding another devastating claw strike from the demon beast.

His eyes flicked toward the boss's health bar—it was so close to depletion.

If I calculate this properly... one more scratch from him, and we're finished. But... if I land a critical hit—just one—I can end this.

Yuka's mind raced. He weaved through the demon's red energy slashes, watching as his remaining teammates desperately chipped away at the monster's health.

But Yuka had a different plan.

Amidst the flurry of attacks, he had discovered something. One particular strike he had landed earlier had done significant damage, far more than any normal attack should have. A weak spot.

It was now or never.

His teammates were still desperately trying to reduce the demon's health, but their attacks were minor at best. Yuka, however, was positioning himself, waiting for the perfect moment.

Then—

A flicker.

A dreadful realization hit him like a punch to the gut.

The status bars of his remaining teammates—one by one—turned red.

'...They died before they could even deal much damage to it...'

Yuka let out a quiet chuckle.

"Let the pro gamer show you how it's done."

He pressed down on the attack button, charging his ultimate move. His attention was solely focused on building up power, barely dodging the demon's relentless swipes. The monster had now locked onto him alone, its fury unbridled.

Perfect.

Golden light enveloped his sword. He leaped into the air, soaring straight toward the demon's face—toward its gaping maw, lined with serrated fangs dripping with digital venom.

His teammates screamed through the earbuds.

"Yuka—what the hell are you doing?!"

"You're gonna die, you idiot!"

Yuka's grin widened. He knew that.

The demon beast lunged.

And in the briefest moment, their attacks collided—

A crash of red and gold.

Yuka's avatar was flung backward, his health plummeting to zero. His body hit the ground, lifeless.

But so did the demon.

For a few heartbeats, there was silence.

Then, a notification flashed on his screen:

VICTORY.

Yuka chuckled. His teammates, still alive on voice chat, were dead silent—baffled.

"What the fuck just happened?!" one of them finally blurted.

Another chimed in, "How did you not die?!"

Yuka stretched his arms with a smug expression. "You guys wasted all your gold on emotes and useless items. I used all of mine on scrolls to craft the ultimate skill."

"The what?"

"Rebirth after Death. If I die from a critical fatal attack, I revive with a tiny bit of HP left. Just enough to stay alive."

Silence again. Then—

"Yuka, you're insane."

"You're pro-gamer material, man."

"Too bad there's no real-life version of that skill... I wish you could use it in your situation."

Yuka's breath hitched.

His fingers froze over the screen. The grin faded from his face.

For the first time since he started playing... reality came crashing back.

The hospital bed. The tubes in his arms. The quiet, sterile walls of the ward. The knowledge that he was dying.

He had thought that completing the game—achieving the ultimate victory—would bring him peace. That it would let him die satisfied, with no regrets.

But now, more than ever—

He wanted to live.

"—Yuka! Yuka, you there, buddy?!"

"...Yeah," Yuka replied after a moment, forcing a weak chuckle. "Sorry, I just had... a little trouble breathing."

He lied.

His teammates went silent, understanding the weight behind his words.

Then—

A new notification popped up on the screen: WORLD FIRST CLEAR ACHIEVED.

Yuka knew they were all staring at it, probably at a loss for words. If he stayed quiet, no one would say anything for a while. So, he spoke first.

"This should go on our Insta and platforms," he said, his voice lighter than he felt. "We're the first to clear it."

A pause. Then, he added, "I gotta go, guys. Might not be online for a while. The WiFi here sucks."

He didn't wait for their responses. He logged out, tossed his earbuds aside, and turned onto his side.

The moment the game was gone, reality was all that remained.

The beeping machines. The sterile, white walls. The quiet, suffocating sadness of the hospital ward.

The truth he had been trying so hard to ignore.

He stared at the ceiling.

'I wish... I could leave here. Why can't they find a cure for me before I die? I don't want to die...'

Please... someone... help me.