I Siphon the Dead to Become the Strongest

Fast forward ten minutes, and the scene in the apartment had devolved into something truly surreal.

Seo-Yeon was currently sitting on the edge of a rickety chair, holding a spoon of steaming soup. The catch? Ethan—the man currently shivering under a fleece blanket and smelling like a mixture of eucalyptus and despair—was the one who had cooked it.

Seo-Yeon had brought the ingredients, but the moment she stepped into the kitchen, she had looked at the pots and pans with the confusion of a cavewoman discovering a microwave. Ethan, driven by a lifelong fear of eating something that tasted like salted cardboard, had sighed, dragged his dying body to the stove, and cooked the soup himself while she supervised by standing there and looking intense.

Now, the roles had flipped. Seo-Yeon was treating him like a toddler, meticulously blowing on the spoon before guiding it toward his mouth.

“Open wide,” she commanded, her nurturing tone sounding suspiciously like a military order.

Ethan let out a muffled grunt as he accepted the soup, munching on a piece of carrot with a look of profound betrayal. He began to mutter, his voice a raspy, sarcastic drone.

“I just want to know... what kind of psycho knows where I live?” he mumbled around the vegetables. “We met maybe twice. I didn’t even know her name. And then—bam—turns out she’s some big-shot boss of a guild called the... what was it? The Crimson Layed? Sounds like a fancy brand of floor carpeting.”

He glared at the spoon as it hovered near his lips again.

“And the ingredients!” he continued, his internal monologue leaking out. “She buys sick soup ingredients, but half the bag is literally just raw roots that look like they belong in a forbidden swamp. I’m pretty sure three of those mushrooms are used for high-level mana potions or for inducing temporary blindness. Who buys a potion-kit and calls it soup?”

He paused, a look of absolute horror crossing his face as he realized his current situation.

“And lastly!! LASTLY! Why am I the one who cooked the soup when I’m the one who’s sick?! I’m the patient! I’m the victim here! This is a violation of the fundamental laws of healthcare! How does this end? When does this embarrassing, soup-filled fever dream stop?!”

Just as Seo-Yeon was about to jam another spoonful into his mouth to silence his complaining, the front door clicked open.

“I’m home!” Mia’s voice chirped, echoing through the small space.

She stepped inside, clutching her notebook, and froze. Her eyes locked onto the scene: her lazy, pathetic brother, wrapped in a blanket like a sad burrito, being hand-fed by a woman who looked like she had just fallen out of a high-fashion streetwear magazine.

Mia’s eyes widened. They began to shimmer. A literal tear of admiration rolled down her cheek.

She took in the whole aesthetic: the striking black hair with the red tips, those piercing, crystalline grey eyes, and skin so smooth it probably reflected sunlight. To Mia, this wasn’t a recruitment attempt or a trespassing incident. This was a miracle.

“Goodness gracious...” Mia whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “So... perfect.”

In Mia’s mind, a romantic movie began playing with an orchestral soundtrack. She looked at her brother—the man who spent eighty percent of his life horizontally—and then at the goddess in the cropped hoodie. She couldn’t believe it. Her brother had actually pulled someone out of his league. No, he had pulled someone out of his galaxy.

Mia glanced around the room, her expression suddenly shifting to one of deep pity for the beautiful visitor. She gestured vaguely at the peeling wallpaper and the precarious stack of instant ramen cups in the corner.

“I can’t believe you’d bring such a gorgeous lady into this tight-ass shoebox of an apartment,” Mia lamented, shaking her head. “Brother, you absolute monster! You’re treating a queen like she’s visiting a dumpster!”

Ethan froze, the spoon still in his mouth. He looked at Mia, then at Seo-Yeon, then back at Mia.

“First of all,” Ethan muffled through the soup, “she broke in. Second of all, get out.”

...

The silence in the room was thick enough to be served as a side dish. Mia was still staring at Seo-Yeon with an expression that hovered somewhere between religious awe and profound confusion.

Seo-Yeon, realizing the situation had spiraled into a romantic comedy she hadn’t auditioned for, cleared her throat and quickly and tried to dismantle the romantic fantasy Mia had constructed.

“Ah, actually, there’s been a slight misunderstanding! I’m not exactly... with him.

I’m the Guild Master of the Crimson Scale, and I’m here to recruit your brother. I’m an S-Rank hunter, and I’ve taken a professional interest in his potential!”

Mia froze. Her expression became a chaotic whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Her brain was essentially a browser with too many tabs open, and three of them were crashing.

Wait, Mia thought, her eyes darting between her brother and the goddess. So, she’s a striking beauty? Check. An S-Rank powerhouse? Check. Owns her own guild? Mega-check.

Mia felt a strange, paradoxical surge of feeling. On one hand, she felt a sense of cosmic justice—her brother was so hopelessly unqualified for a woman like this that it was almost poetic. On the other hand, she felt a deep, crushing pity for Ethan. If this woman was the ”bare minimum” of his social circle, he was doomed. He was going to be forever single, probably dying in this shoebox apartment, surrounded by a fortress of empty ramen cups.

”How do I feel about this?” Mia whispered, her voice trembling. Do I feel happy that my brother’s taste in women is so impossibly high that he’s attracting S-Rank goddesses? Or do I feel a deep, soul-crushing pity for him because the gap between them is so wide that he’ll probably be single for the next three incarnations?

“I am right here!” Ethan snapped, his voice cracking mid-sentence. “I’m sick, not deaf! I can hear you both discussing my future while I’m still actively fighting for my life against a common cold!”

Seo-Yeon, sensing an opportunity to pivot from ”Trespasser” to ”Savior,” suddenly stepped forward. She grabbed both of Mia’s hands in hers, her grey eyes shimmering with an intensity that could move mountains—or at least move a teenage girl’s heart.

“Listen, Mia,” Seo-Yeon said, her voice dropping into a persuasive, velvety tone. “I can see you’re struggling in this... quaint little space. If you want a fresh start, I can help. I can buy you a permanent house. Your own place. No bills. No rent. Just a clean slate. And I’ll provide enough monthly support to ensure you can start an entirely new life there.”

Ethan stopped chewing his carrot. He stared at Seo-Yeon, his eyes narrowing.

New life? he thought, his sarcastic brain firing at full speed. What does she think of us? Does she think we’re being reincarnated? Is she offering me a soul-transfer? Am I about to be reborn as a slime in another world just so my sister can have a condo with a balcony?

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Hope you enjoyed! Please look forward to future chapters. Even though we’re heavy on the comedy right now, I’ll be mixing in some other genres too—though not entirely what you’re thinking! Stay tuned for what’s next!