Zero’s Reign: Reincarnated with a Gacha Clone System

The hospital doors burst open as Erwin stormed inside, his breath heavy, Mandy unconscious in his arms. "Emergency!" he shouted. The brightly lit lobby was filled with patients, nurses, and doctors moving in every direction, but at the sound of Erwin's voice, several nurses rushed toward him.

One of them—a young elf woman in a white uniform—assessed Mandy's condition with sharp eyes. "What happened?" she asked, already directing the others to prepare a stretcher.

"Kidnapped. Beaten. I got her out." Erwin kept his voice steady, though his hands were shaking slightly.

The nurse nodded once, not wasting time with more questions. "Get her to the trauma ward, now!" Two assistants carefully lifted Mandy onto a stretcher and wheeled her away through the wide hallways of the hospital.

Erwin exhaled, wiping the sweat from his brow.

The hospital air smelled of herbs, alcohol, and mana-infused potions, mixing into a scent that felt both clean and clinical.

The waiting area was full of patients, some injured, others sick, most looking tired and impatient. Erwin leaned against the counter, watching as the nurses disappeared with Mandy into the deeper sections of the hospital.

Then—

A soft voice interrupted his thoughts. "Sir, may I ask how you'd like to proceed?"

Erwin turned, seeing a middle-aged nurse with short gray hair standing behind the reception desk. His brow furrowed. "Proceed? What do you mean?"

The nurse gave a professional smile, her hands neatly folded. "Would you like an ordinary doctor to handle her case, or shall we summon a Healer?"

Erwin blinked. "…What's the difference?"

"An ordinary doctor will rely on medicine, surgery, and time. A Healer, however, can mend her wounds almost instantly."

Erwin nodded. "Then a Healer, obviously. Why even ask?"

The nurse's smile didn't waver. "Because, sir, you arrived late. Healers must be summoned."

Erwin stared. "You mean there's no Healers here?"

She shook her head. "No. Healers do not work within hospitals. They operate on-call. You must request them separately."

Erwin ran a hand down his face. "Then why ask me if I wanted a Healer if they're not even here?!"

The nurse's expression didn't change. "Because I need you to decide now. We will either proceed with the standard treatment or summon a Healer."

Erwin's patience snapped. "Do everything. Call a Healer. Get a doctor. Summon the gods for all I care! Just do whatever it takes to get her back to health!"

The nurse nodded once. "Very well. We will begin her treatment immediately. If you require anything, please wait in the lobby."

With that, she walked away, her heels clicking softly against the tiled floor. Erwin let out a long breath.

'This country is so damn inefficient.'

…

The hospital waiting area was the same as any other. Uncomfortable chairs. The constant buzz of murmuring voices. The smell of disinfectant and medicine.

Hours passed. The clock on the wall ticked mercilessly. Erwin sat leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, eyes locked on the floor.

Finally—

A doctor approached. A tall, middle-aged human, his white coat pristine and crisp. He held a clipboard, flipping through a few notes before clearing his throat. "Mandy will be fine."

Erwin exhaled in relief. "Thank god."

The doctor continued. "Her injuries are not fatal, but a Healer would be able to speed up her recovery significantly. Otherwise, she will need time to heal naturally."

Before Erwin could respond—

The front doors of the hospital burst open. "Where is she?!" A furious voice filled the lobby. Mandy's husband and her brother stormed inside, their eyes wide with panic.

Erwin stood up immediately.

The doctor raised a hand. "Gentlemen, please. Who are you?"

The brother spoke first. "I'm her brother. And this—" He pointed at the other man. "—is her husband. Tell us what's wrong with her."

The doctor gave a professional nod. "She suffered minor fractures, bruising, and exhaustion. With a Healer, she could recover in minutes. Without one, she will need time."

The brother clenched his fists. 

The husband's expression darkened.

Then, suddenly—

"This is all because of you!" The husband lunged. Erwin barely had time to react before a fist swung at him. He ducked. "Whoa! What the hell?!"

The husband snarled. "If you hadn't gotten involved, she wouldn't have been in danger! This is your fault!"

Erwin's patience cracked. He straightened his jacket, fixing his tie. Then he glared at the husband, his voice sharp as a blade. "Are you an idiot?" The husband stiffened.

Erwin stepped forward. "Your wife hired me because she didn't understand why you were acting differently. You weren't cheating, but you also weren't talking to her. You kept dodging her concerns. Do you understand what that does to a person?"

The husband's jaw tightened.

Erwin continued. "She wasn't suspicious of you. She was worried about you. And now we know why."

Erwin's eyes darkened. "You weren't cheating. You were being threatened by a gang. And instead of confiding in your wife, you let her suffer alone."

The husband opened his mouth to argue. Then stopped. Because he knew Erwin was right.

The brother stepped in. "A gang? What gang?"

Erwin crossed his arms. "The same gang running protection rackets across Pinecrest. The same gang smuggling drugs into the city. The same gang that kidnapped your sister and nearly killed her to force your brother-in-law into working for them."

The brother's face twisted in rage. "And you kept quiet about this?!" he yelled at the husband.

The husband looked away, ashamed. "I… I didn't want to drag her into it…"

Erwin sighed. "It's too late for that." 

The hospital lobby fell silent.

Then—

The brother spoke. "Alright. Then we need to get her healed as fast as possible. How much does a Healer cost?"

The husband scoffed. "Are you kidding? Healers charge a fortune. They're greedy bastards. We can't afford that."

Erwin adjusted his coat. Then, calmly, he said—

"Don't worry. I'll pay for it."

Both men stared at him. "…You will?"

Erwin smirked. "Yeah. After all, I already solved the case. It's only fair I see it through to the end." And with that, he turned toward the front desk, pulling out his pouch. "Now. Someone get me a damn Healer."

…

The morning sun crept slowly over the ruined remains of the gang's main base. The factory's metal walls gleamed under the soft golden light, silent and still, no longer buzzing with criminal activity.

Inside—

Every single gang member was tied up. From the lowly grunts to the commanding lieutenants, even the boss himself—all bound together, their arms and legs secured with thick rope.

Sebas sat comfortably on the floor, one leg crossed over the other, perfectly poised. His golden eyes watched the man in front of him. The same man who had attacked Café Leblanc. The man's face was swollen and bruised, but at least his nose wasn't broken.

Sebas had made sure to heal him… just so he could break him again.

Slowly—

One by one—

The gang members began to stir. Grunts, lieutenants, the boss himself. Groggy, dazed, completely disoriented.

Sebas clasped his hands together and smiled. "Took you long enough." Everyone froze. Eyes widened in horror. Bodies went rigid. The fear hit them all at once.

Memories of the night before.

The butler. The impossible speed. The overwhelming strength.

The way he tore through their forces like they were nothing.

One of the lieutenants trembled. "W-who… w-what… are you?" 

Sebas tilted his head slightly. "Who, me? I'm simply a butler." His voice was calm. Polite. Yet it sent a chill through their bones. The gangsters didn't dare move.

Then—

Sebas stood up, dusting off his pristine uniform. He glanced around the room. "Now then… who is the boss again?"

Immediately—

Every single pair of terrified eyes turned toward the man sitting in the middle. The actual boss. The moment their gazes landed on him, the man's face twisted with betrayal. "Y-you bastards—!!"

Sebas smirked. "Ah, I see. Thank you for confirming." With effortless grace, Sebas strode toward the gang boss. 

The man struggled against his bindings, sweat beading on his forehead. "Wait—wait—hold on! Let's talk about this—!!"

Sebas ignored him. He reached out—

And placed his palm on the boss's forehead. Palm of the Puppeteer. A soft golden glow spread from Sebas' hand, sinking into the gang boss's skull. 

The man's pupils dilated. His entire body went still. For a brief second—his face went blank.

Then—

His eyes cleared, and he looked around as if nothing had happened. Sebas smiled. "Now… let's make things more interesting." Sebas stepped back and clasped his hands behind his back.

The gang stared at their boss, confused and horrified. The boss blinked, his face eerily neutral.

Sebas' voice was silk-smooth. "You will continue your operations. Do what you do best—commit crime, run your syndicate, smuggle your goods."

The gang members exchanged nervous glances.

Sebas continued. "However… from now on, you will do everything in your power to make Detective Erwin's career as spectacular as possible."

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Sebas smiled wider. "Move your bases and posts constantly. Make sure the police never find them easily. Ensure that every bust, every takedown, and every breakthrough Detective Erwin makes is a grand achievement."

His golden eyes glowed faintly. "And when the time comes… you will fall spectacularly, ensuring that the public views him as the greatest investigator of our time."

A shiver ran through the room. The gangsters looked at their boss, expecting resistance.

But instead—

The boss nodded. "Understood." His voice was flat. Unwavering.

The gangsters stiffened. 'What the hell just happened?'

Sebas turned his gaze toward the rest of them. The fear in the room thickened. Sebas sighed, shaking his head. "Just in case some of you think about disobeying—" A pulse of pure, suffocating intimidation radiated from him.

Immediately—

Every single gang member collapsed, barely conscious, struggling to breathe. Their bodies trembled. Their minds screamed at them to obey. Sebas clapped his hands together once.

"Lovely. Now then—" He turned on his heel. "I'll be taking my leave. Try not to get caught too quickly."

With that, he walked out of the factory, leaving behind a room full of shaking criminals and a mind-controlled boss.

…

As the morning sun fully rose, Sebas strolled through the quiet streets, making his way back to Café Leblanc. His footsteps were light, his posture perfect, as if he had simply finished running an errand.

As he walked, he muttered to himself—

"Young Master Erwin… your rise to the top begins now."

His smirk lingered as he disappeared into the city.

…

Erwin sat calmly in a chair, sipping a cup of lukewarm hospital coffee. His eyes were sharp, analyzing every movement in the room.

Then—

The glass doors of the hospital lobby swung open. A woman walked in. Her gray trench coat and badge pinned to her belt immediately gave away her profession.

A detective.

She had short auburn hair tied into a messy bun, dark circles under her tired yet cold eyes, and a cigarette tucked behind her ear. 

She walked up to Erwin, arms crossed. "You the one who brought in the hostage?"

Erwin looked at her eyes, unfazed. "Yes."

She pulled out a notebook, flipping through the pages. "Tell me what happened."

Erwin leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. And then—he told her everything.

The merchant's refusal to join the gang's operation.

The kidnapping of his wife, Mandy.

The gang's base hidden in the abandoned factory.

How he infiltrated, got her out, and delivered her safely to the hospital.

Of course—

He left out Sebas' involvement. As he finished, he calmly leaned back into his chair. "You should check the factory."

The detective raised a brow.

Erwin continued. "They probably left something behind that could help us dismantle their gang."

The detective let out a scoff. "Us?" She sneered. "There's no 'us.' You're just a guy playing detective. Let the real officers do their jobs."

Before Erwin could respond—

Mandy's brother slammed his fist onto the nearest table. "Hey! If it weren't for him, my sister would be dead!"

The detective narrowed her eyes.

Mandy's brother continued, furious. "If he's 'playing' detective, then you might as well quit your job because you ain't even qualified to play!"

A tense silence filled the room.

Erwin, however, simply smiled. "Calm down." He turned back to the detective. His voice was calm, unwavering. "That's all I've got for you. Unless, of course, you'd rather have some photo evidence as well?"

The detective stiffened. She didn't answer. Instead, she snapped her notebook shut, turned on her heel, and walked away. "Just leave it to the rookies, then."

She was gone.

Erwin watched her go, then muttered under his breath— "A detective who doesn't even want evidence? This country is crumbling."

…

Noon arrived. 

Yet—no healer.

Erwin leaned against the hospital's reception desk, tapping his fingers against the wood. He sighed. Then, looking at the nurse, he asked— "So… when exactly is the healer arriving?"

The nurse gave him a forced smile. "He's on his way."

Erwin blinked. Then frowned. "You said that this morning."

The husband, standing nearby, let out a dry chuckle. "That's not unusual." 

Erwin turned to him. 

The husband crossed his arms, shaking his head. "Healers don't operate on schedules. They show up when they feel like it. And since they can charge whatever they want for a few seconds of work, well…" He gestured vaguely. "Why should they care about being on time?"

Erwin grimaced.

'So, this is how it works?

These people act like gods just because they can heal wounds instantly?'

Just then—

A commotion erupted near the hospital entrance. The crowd in the waiting room parted. And then—he walked in.

A man draped in white and gold robes, golden rings and necklaces gleaming under the light. His fat fingers were adorned with expensive jewelry, his bloated figure barely squeezing through the hospital doors. His round face was covered in excessive perfumes and powders, an arrogant sneer permanently fixed on his lips.

Erwin's stomach churned. 'This is the healer?'

The healer stepped into Mandy's room, his robes swaying dramatically. He glanced at her, then wrinkled his nose in disgust. And then—he spoke. "Is this the thing?"

Erwin froze.

His mind went blank for a second. He had heard many things in his life. But never had he heard someone refer to a person—an injured patient—as a thing. 

He turned, scanning the room's reaction. No one looked surprised. No one even flinched.

'This is normal to them.

This is how the world works here.'

The healer let out an exaggerated sigh, hovering his fat hand over Mandy's body. A soft golden glow spread from his fingertips. Mandy's bruises faded. Her breathing steadied. Her wounds closed. In just seconds—

She was healed.

Her brother and husband immediately bowed. "Thank you. Thank you!"

The healer sneered. "Calling me in the morning just to heal a peasant."

He scoffed, adjusting his gold rings.

Then—he left.

Just like that. Erwin stood still, watching the man disappear. He clenched his jaw. His fingers tightened into fists. For the first time in a while, he had to remind himself— 

'Stay calm. Stay composed. Keep your cover.'

He took a slow breath. Then, finally, he muttered under his breath— "This world is even more fucked up than I thought."