Chapter 23: Giving up is something you say when counting cabbages.

“Oh, right.”

Before posting, I needed to change my nickname, “PlantPangin.”

Living a community life under any name other than PlantPangin was unthinkable—my second self, my alter ego. But PlantPangin had been banned twice for a week each, so it carried zero credibility.

For the first time, I had to break my community creed.

‘Sorry, PlantPangin!’

I never thought I’d abandon you,
but this time, I have to let you go.

I navigated to the user settings to change my nickname.

But—

[Nickname can only be changed once per account.]

A warning blocked my path.

“Fine. I’ll just delete and rejoin.”

I clicked the “Delete Account” button at the bottom of the settings.

Then—

[Rejoining after deletion requires a 3-month waiting period.]

Now a three-month wait shackled me.

Being an awakener-exclusive community, I couldn’t make another account either.

‘Should I ask someone else to post…?’

It was a good idea, but I hesitated.

I didn’t have many awakeners close enough to confide in,
and hearing, “Healer-nim, you’re more influential than me. Why ask someone else?” would choke me with embarrassment.

This was maddening.

‘But I can’t just sit here.’

PlantPangin was a notorious troll, sure,
but maybe a heartfelt plea would resonate.

No—precisely because I was a troll, showing sincerity for once might make people listen.

“No choice.”

Time for PlantPangin to go all-in.

—

[PlantPangin: DO NOT use the cheap Lumina flowers circulating!!!]

Sorry for muddying the boards all this time.
But I swear, this post has no aggro, no lies.

The flowers might seem fine at first, but keep using them, and you’ll build “mana resistance.”
That’ll turn you into someone who can’t use mana potions at all.

Don’t keep taking them just because they work well.
The side effects are serious.

—

This should convey my sincerity.

I hit “Post” and waited.
One second, two seconds…

Maybe I wrote too honestly, too plainly.

My post sank, buried under a flood of praise for the artificial Lumina flowers, ignored.

‘Was the title and content too tame…?’

Time to switch tactics.

—

[PlantPangin: Eat those cheap Lumina flowers, and you’ll croak in a week]

Sounds fake, right?
But it’s 100% real.

They’ve got serious side effects.
Eat too many, and you’ll build mana resistance, making potions useless.
Plus, you’ll catch some weird-ass disease and die in a week.

I know I’m the aggro guy, so my cred’s trash.
But I don’t mess around with people’s lives.

If you’re reading this, please don’t buy them.

I’m begging you.

—

Clasping my hands, I waited.
After a few minutes, I refreshed.

The provocative title worked—comments piled up.

[How do you know?]
└PlantPangin: I tried them. I’m broke, so I ate those flowers all day and ended up with a body that can’t recover mana.
└But you’re still alive, lol?
└These flowers haven’t even been out a week. This guy’s trolling again.

[Lmao, he’s at it again.]
[Man, he’s completely lost it…]
[No Healer-nim posts, so now he’s targeting flowers?]
[You’re that Sprout Guild flower grower, right? Caught you]
[Aw, now we get to enjoy Lumina flowers too~ Not just you guys]
[This guy’s weirdly on top of trends lol. Gotta respect the hustle.]
[This one’s kinda creative, ngl.]

The page was filled with mockery.

Still, it wasn’t a total flop.
A few saw my sincerity.

[It’s kinda creepy when a troll gets serious…]
[Eh… I don’t fully trust it, but maybe worth watching?]

Problem was, they were a tiny minority.

I failed to highlight the artificial Lumina Bells’ dangers, but I’d done all PlantPangin could.

Posting more would just spark backlash.

‘If even PlantPangin failed, then…’

I looked up at the mirror.

A girl with anxious eyes, desperate to escape reality, stared back.
At the same time, I saw the “Healer,” trusted by countless awakeners.

‘I’m the only one who knows the artificial flowers’ true risks.’

Then I had to reveal my face and warn people, no matter what.

The anxious girl in the mirror was gone, replaced by calm resolve.

‘If only I had one more way to add credibility…’

Then it hit me.

“Appraiser!”

Like the mana potion from the spirit-born flower,
couldn’t an official appraisal prove the flowers’ dangers?

Without hesitation, I headed to the national agency.

—

“The appraisal confirms it’s an artificially cultivated plant. Growth accelerator residues were detected, and some traces suggest genetic hybridization.”

Thump, thump.

Clasping my hands, I awaited the appraiser’s next words.

“But.”

His brow furrowed.

“While long-term use of an artificial plant could pose risks, the specific side effects you mentioned weren’t detected.”

“What…?”

What did that mean?

All those side effects plastered on the artificial Lumina Bell—none showed up in the appraisal?

Was it really only visible to my “Plant Lover” ability?

“I believe everything you said, Healer-nim. I see the sincerity in your eyes.”

The appraiser gave me a warm smile.

“But an appraisal report is an official record, so we can only include verified facts… I’m truly sorry.”

He bowed deeply.

“N-No, it’s okay!”

The results weren’t as hoped,
but confirming artificial cultivation and long-term risks wasn’t nothing.

“Can you write the appraisal report with the current findings?”

“Of course. I’ll prepare it now.”

Taking the sealed envelope, I headed straight to the 5th floor’s public relations office.

‘This is insane…’

A lone individual demanding a disaster alert was, by any measure, unhinged.

But I had no time for decorum or pride.

I opened the soundproofed door and stepped inside cautiously.

“Hoo…”

Catching my breath, I gripped the envelope and walked forward.

“Hey, Healer-nim!”

A staff member, typing furiously, spotted me and waved.

I approached and explained why I was there.
His face grew increasingly troubled.

“Um… I understand the appraisal and your concerns, but…”

I clasped my hands, pleading.

“I’ll take full responsibility. If an alert’s too much, even a small article…”

It didn’t work.

He cut me off firmly.

“I’m sorry, Healer-nim. Official announcements from the PR office are based on ‘confirmed damages.’”

I felt staff members’ gazes shift toward me,
their whispers audible: “What’s up?” “What’s going on?” “No idea…” “She’s asking for a disaster alert?”

My face burned, ears red with shame.

“S-Sorry for the disturbance!”

I slammed the door shut and fled the agency.

Humiliation scorched me from head to toe.

But—

– Healer-nim… thank you for saving my dad. Sob, sob…
– Thank you so much for saving my daughter…
– I don’t know how to repay you… Thank you…

For the people from the Seongbuk-gu rampage gate incident,
who’d held my hands with heartfelt gratitude,
I couldn’t stop here.

If the agency wouldn’t sound the alarm,
I’d find a way to warn people myself.

‘Give up only after you’ve done all you can.’

It was time for my last resort.

—

At home, I created a YouTube account.

Fixing my phone in place, I hit record.

“…”

A tense girl stared back from the screen.

Hoo—

Taking a deep breath, she looked at the camera and opened her small mouth.

“Hello, I’m Healer Lee Chorok.”

Facing the girl on the screen, I read my prepared script.

“Thanks to my unique ability, I can keenly detect an item’s dangers or status effects.”

Vaguely describing my ability as “detecting item risks,”
I explained my suspicion that the circulating Lumina flowers were artificial,
contained toxic mana,
and carried severe side effects.

I sternly warned of the consequences of ignoring these risks
and ended by holding the appraisal report close to the camera.

I uploaded it immediately, but unease lingered.

‘This isn’t enough.’

With a brand-new account and no YouTube presence, it’d take time to spread.

‘To make it go viral fast…’

My gaze naturally turned to the community app.

—

[PlantPangin: Proof my post wasn’t fake (deleting in 10 min)]

(Video link)

That Healer you all love posted a video about the same issue.
You won’t believe me, but you’ll believe her, right?
So just this once, trust me.

Please…

—

I knew this was dangerous.

The trusted Healer “Lee Chorok”
could be exposed as the mocked, ignored community troll “PlantPangin.”

I whispered quietly, “I don’t care.”

If my actions saved even one person from the artificial Lumina flowers’ dangers,
if that person was someone’s loved one,
I was ready to take the risk.

—

The “Healer’s warning video” briefly caught community attention.

But overwhelmed by the artificial Lumina flowers’ potent effects, it faded quickly.

Worse, posts like [The Healer was the first to grow Lumina Bells and is stirring panic to protect their value] began surfacing, casting suspicion.

But—

A week after the video’s upload,
things started shifting.

[Marbly’s screwed. No matter how many mana potions I chug, my mana won’t fill…]

The community’s mood began to change.