The all-knowing Player (Solo Leveling)

Welcome, Player (1)

Corresponding episode: 11

I jolt awake, cold sweat trickling down my face as my mouth snaps open to gasp out for air. My heart beats fiercely in my ribcage, overlapping my ragged breaths rising in the silence. A heart rate monitor answers each of its panicked thumps with frantic beeping. I bring a quivering hand to my face, trembling fingers hesitantly brushing over my forehead to swipe the sweat off. The ghost of a throbbing overcomes my arms as my gaze wanders over my body in search of familiarity, yet it fades away just as quickly, leaving behind only the uncomfortable sting of a drip needle inserted into my wrist.

A hospital. I must be in a hospital. The thick scent of disinfectant and the striped pajamas don't leave any room for doubt about my location. But the perspective of being in such an institution doesn't bring me any comfort—only a crippling unease growing as a lonesome silence fills this foreign place.

I sit up with difficulty, leaning on my trembling arm to press my back against the rough pillow and pushing the thin cover to the other end of the bed. The beeping gradually stabilizes along with my pulse as I force myself to take in deep breaths, clutching my hands in an attempt to stop their shaking. The overwhelming anguish subsides, and with my newfound quietness of mind comes confusion—unanswered questions jostling into my mind as I dig into my memory in search for the reason I woke up here.

But I find nothing. No hint, no reminiscence, not even a name—nothing but a pounding headache that has me clenching my head with all my might in hopes of easing the pain. I immediately give up on digging any further. Surely the nurses will tell me if I ask, right?

But then what? I must have led a life outside this small hospital room. Will I have to rediscover it wholly? Will I have to navigate in this world with no memory of who I am, or who I was?

I don't get the time to sink further into panic: the door to my room rattles open for a woman to enter. She presses a clipboard against her white blouse, her short black hair swaying over her shoulders as she turns her head toward me. Her eyebrows shoot up as her gaze meets mine.

"Huh? She's awake," she observes.

My lips part, but no words rise from my throat as I blink in bewilderment. This language... It isn't English, but Korean. Though I understand her words and recognize her intonation, it feels somewhat unnatural, as if I hadn't heard someone talk that language for a long time.

The nurse steps to the side, allowing two suit-wearing men into my room. My eyes widen as an odd sense of familiarity overcomes me at their sight—or, at least, at the sight of one of the men. His chestnut-brown hair has been slicked back, save for a wild strand that falls over his forehead, almost ticking the bridge of his crooked nose. Everything in him, from his stiff posture to his unreadable brown eyes, screams serious meticulousness. The second man is a bit smaller, with neatly cut dark hair and large ears.

But my attention is soon caught by the nurse who strides forward, setting her clipboard aside to fumble with the empty pocket of the drip. "How are you feeling, miss?" she asks.

"I'm... fine," I stammer in her language, hesitation lacing my voice as the words come out rather unnaturally.

"That's great news! If you'll allow me, I'll take the needle out, then I'll call for the doctor and your guardian right away."

I nod and let her pluck the needle out, freeing me from the cables and strings linking me to medical devices. The two men sit on a beige couch near my bed and wait for her to finish. Their eyes distractingly trace after her quick movements before settling on me, curiosity momentarily overshadowing professionalism in their gazes.

"Alright, I'm done," she announces soon enough, taking her clipboard back to scribble something down, then turning to me with a smile. "I'm off to fetch the doctor. In the meantime, I believe these gentlemen have something to ask you. I'll leave you to it."