Chapter 135: Regenerative drugs
The room was sterile and painfully bright, the kind of white that made everything feel colder than it actually was. The steady beep of the heart monitor filled the silence as the doctor moved around Yuki’s bed, checking her pupils, listening to her heartbeat and examining the various monitors attached to her body.
Yuki could do little more than stare at him.
Her body felt as though it no longer belonged to her. Every muscle was heavy, every movement sluggish. Even breathing seemed to require more effort than it should. She could feel the faint tug of the IV attached to her hand and the uncomfortable pressure of the monitoring leads against her skin.
The doctor finished checking her vitals before glancing at the chart in his hand.
"Your body is still in terrible shape," he explained honestly, his tone reassuring despite his blunt words. "But now that you’re awake, your recovery should progress much faster."
The door opened before Yuki could respond.
A nurse stepped inside, carrying a file. Yuki recognised her immediately. It was the same nurse who had screamed when she first opened her eyes.
Clara.
She approached the doctor and handed him the file, but her gaze briefly shifted towards Yuki. There was something strange in her expression. It was not fear exactly, but Yuki could tell the woman was looking at her differently now.
Almost as though she were seeing a ghost. Clara quickly looked away.
"The latest results, Doctor," she said quietly.
"Thank you, Clara," the doctor responded.
The nurse nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her. Yuki’s eyes followed her until she disappeared.
The doctor opened the file and began flipping through the pages. His expression changed as he read. A smile slowly spread across his face.
Yuki stared at him suspiciously. "What?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
The doctor looked up. "You are a very lucky young woman, Miss Donovan," he announced warmly.
Yuki blinked.
The doctor lifted the file slightly. "The new magic-assisted regenerative treatment has just passed its clinical trial. It was approved for use only recently, and somehow, it became available just in time for you."
Yuki parted her lips to respond, but a harsh cough tore through her throat instead. Her entire body jerked with the effort.
"Easy," the nurse beside her coaxed gently.
She quickly reached for a glass of water and slipped an arm behind Yuki’s shoulders, helping her sit a little higher.
"You haven’t spoken in quite some time," the nurse explained softly. "Your throat needs a moment to adjust."
Yuki accepted the glass with trembling fingers, though the nurse kept a hand beneath it to support the weight. She took a small sip.
The cool liquid slid down her raw throat, soothing the burning ache that had made speaking difficult.
Yuki swallowed carefully before handing the glass back.
"Regenerative drugs?" she rasped, raising her eyebrows. Her voice sounded unfamiliar to her own ears. "Is it like a magic potion?"
The doctor chuckled.
"No, not quite," he replied patiently. "Magic potions are generally elixirs created from plants and other natural ingredients that contain magical properties. They work by assisting the body’s natural healing and immune processes."
He tapped the file against his palm.
"This is different. The regenerative treatment uses highly concentrated healing magic infused into a pharmaceutical compound. The result accelerates the body’s natural regeneration far beyond what ordinary medicine can achieve. In some cases, it can even be more effective than having a healer work directly on the patient."
Yuki’s brows slowly lifted. "But isn’t that still theoretical?" she asked, her voice rough but becoming stronger. "They taught us about it in medical school. Researchers have been trying to develop something like that for years, but they kept failing."
The doctor smiled, looking faintly impressed. "I see you’re a medical student."
Yuki gave him a tired look. "I am," she replied.
"Then you already know how impossible the theory seemed." His tone became slightly more animated. "For years, researchers couldn’t find a way to stabilise the magic long enough for the body to absorb it safely. The magical energy would dissipate, become unstable or damage the patient’s cells."
Yuki listened intently despite her exhaustion.
"But they finally succeeded," he continued. "The first regenerative drug has officially passed clinical approval. And you are the first patient to receive it outside the trial process."
Yuki’s eyes widened. "Me?" she blurted. It must have taken a genius to achieve this.
"Yes." The doctor nodded. "Without it, your recovery would have taken several months, possibly longer. With the treatment, we expect you to regain most of your strength within a few weeks. A month at most, assuming your body responds as expected."
Yuki stared at him. "A month?" she gasped.
The doctor nodded. "You should be able to resume your studies before your examinations," he said warmly.
Yuki’s mouth fell open slightly. She had expected to wake up to months of recovery, perhaps even a year of rehabilitation, depending on the damage. Instead, this man was telling her she might be back on her feet within weeks.
Her mind struggled to process it. "Is the drug expensive?" she asked suddenly.
The doctor paused. Yuki glanced at him.
"Something that advanced must be ridiculously expensive," she added.
A reassuring smile appeared on his face. "You don’t need to worry about the cost," he assured her gently. "Your treatment has been placed directly under the Ravencourt family’s medical programme."
Yuki’s lips twitched.
Of course.
The perks of being associated with the Ravencourt family.
Even after everything that had happened, their influence still seemed to reach every corner of her life. She pushed the thought aside.
"How long have I been unconscious?" she asked.
The doctor glanced down at her chart. "Roughly three weeks."
Yuki’s eyes widened.
"Three weeks?" she gasped in disbelief.
"Yes. That is considerably shorter than we predicted." His expression became more serious. "When you arrived, we believed you could remain unconscious for at least a year. There was also a significant possibility that you would never wake up."
Yuki’s fingers tightened against the sheets.
"Never wake up?" she was completely taken aback.
The doctor nodded slowly. "Your injuries were severe. You suffered the worst rejection backlash we have recorded this year," he explained.
Yuki went still.
Three weeks.
That was all?
To her, it had felt like barely a day. She remembered the rejection ceremony. The pain, the darkness, then the strange villa surrounded by the glowing meadow and the man.
Her brows furrowed as she remembered the man. Her mother’s mysterious friend, or whatever he was.