[: 3rd POV :]
"DO YOU KNOW HOW EXPENSIVE THE ITEMS INSIDE THE BACKPACK ARE?"
The captain shouted, saliva flying from his mouth.
His fury was palpable, his anger so intense that he looked ready to kill Daniel right then and there.
But he needed someone to carry the backpack, and for now, that someone was Daniel.
"Y-Yes, I kn—"
"THEN WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU FALLING FOR?!"
"I just nee—"
"IF IT DROPS, WHO'S GONNA PAY?! IS IT YOU?! HUH?! IS IT YOU?!"
"I'm sorr—"
"I'M ASKING WHO'S GONNA PAY, NOT ASKING FOR YOUR APOLOGY!"
The captain roared, shaking Daniel's head violently by his hair.
At this point, Daniel's tears began to flow freely from both eyes.
He looked so pitiful that any compassionate person would want to protect him.
The pressure of being shouted at was overwhelming, and the pain from the captain's iron grip on his hair made it even worse.
His scalp felt like it was on fire, and his heart ached with a mix of fear and humiliation.
He couldn't take it anymore, yet he had no choice but to endure the torment.
"Y-Yes, it will be me, s-so I'm sorry,"
Daniel stammered, his voice trembling with fear and pain.
Maybe that was what the captain wanted to hear, for no sooner had the words left Daniel's mouth than the captain released his grip on his hair.
The captain stepped back, a cruel smile playing on his lips.
His favorite hobby, it seemed, was triumphing over the weak, and his unruly behavior was a testament to that.
He thrived on the power he held over Daniel, taking a perverse pleasure in his suffering.
The other men in the team didn't bother to intervene.
They didn't care about Daniel's plight. Instead, they found the whole situation amusing.
Their laughter echoed through the desolate landscape, a harsh, mocking sound that added to Daniel's humiliation.
They laughed at how pathetic he looked, tears streaming down his face, his body trembling with the weight of the heavy backpack and the emotional toll of the captain's cruelty.
As they continued walking, Daniel struggled to get back on his feet, his scalp still stinging from where the captain had yanked his hair.
He tried to wipe away his tears, but they kept coming, fueled by the deep sense of helplessness and despair that had taken root in his heart.
Every step he took felt like the world was crushing his shoulders.
Daniel's eyes were red from crying, and he wiped his tears away with a not-so-clean cloth.
This cloth was a precious possession, given to him by his childhood friend on one of his early birthdays.
Despite its humble nature, a simple brown cloth, it was a cherished gift that he never considered throwing away.
The cloth represented the bond he shared with his childhood friend, a bond forged in their shared poverty.
Even though she could only give him something so modest, Daniel treasured it deeply.
It was a constant reminder of her and the promise she made to return.
He held onto it tightly, never allowing himself to be separated from it, finding comfort in its worn fibers amidst the harshness of his current reality.
Soon, the team finally arrived at a ruined mansion, once a grand residence for nobles.
Along the way, they had encountered numerous monsters.
Despite the frequency of these encounters, the team dealt with the creatures effortlessly.
The monsters were neither particularly tough nor high-ranked, allowing the team to easily counter and slay them.
In total, they had slain 78 different varieties of monsters.
This meant Daniel had the arduous task of collecting 78 cores from their corpses.
Each core extraction was a grim reminder of his role as the team's pack mule.
With his hands trembling and his heart heavy, he knelt by each fallen monster, extracting the cores one by one, his body aching from the heavy backpack and the relentless pace set by his team.
As he worked, the memories of the mansion's former glory contrasted sharply with the brutal reality of his current task, deepening his sense of isolation and burden.
These monster cores were incredibly valuable, with a versatility that made them essential in various applications.
For instance, they could be used as a substitute fuel for generators or to produce electricity, often lasting far longer than traditional fuels.
Additionally, monster cores were key ingredients in the concoction of pills and the brewing of potions, vital for healing and enhancing abilities.
This was why Daniel needed to collect them.
However, the process of extracting these cores was far from simple.
The monsters' skins were incredibly sturdy and hard, making it difficult to pierce them.
But the most troubling aspect was the core's precise location within the monster's body.
Daniel had to carefully navigate through the dense tissue to avoid damaging the core, which required a combination of strength and delicate precision.
Each extraction was a painstaking effort.
Daniel's hands, already sore from carrying the heavy backpack, trembled as he cut through the thick hides.
Sweat dripped from his brow as he focused intently, determined not to let his exhaustion cause a mistake.
Daniel had to search meticulously for the cores inside each monster's body, as the placement varied with different species.
If it was the same species, it was easier, but Daniel was still new to this task.
Remembering and memorizing the specific locations for each type of monster took time and practice, making the job even more challenging.
The process was gruesome.
Blood spurted out as he cut through the thick hides, staining his clothes and hands.
Despite this, Daniel persevered, relying on the few worn-out spare clothes he had brought with him to manage the mess.
However, extracting the cores was not always a peaceful process.
The captain seemed unable to leave Daniel alone, constantly disturbing him with harsh words.
His relentless criticism and demeaning remarks made the already difficult task even more stressful.
"Why the fuck are you so slow?" the captain barked, his voice dripping with irritation.
Another team member chimed in with a mocking laugh, "HAHAHA, this job seems to fit you after all! HAHAHA!"
The rest of the team stood by, watching Daniel struggle with his gruesome task.
None of them were willing to extract the cores themselves.
The job was too disgusting and tedious for their liking, so they remained silent and let Daniel handle it without offering any assistance.
Daniel's hands trembled as he cut through the tough hide of yet another monster. l
"Can't you go any faster?" the captain snapped, standing over Daniel with a look of disdain.
"I'm doing my best," Daniel muttered, his voice barely audible as he focused on the task at hand.
The captain sneered. "Your best isn't good enough. If you mess this up, you'll pay for it."
Daniel's heart pounded as he finally located the core and extracted it with trembling hands.
He placed it carefully in a bag, knowing that any mistake could bring more wrath from the captain.
His body ached, and his spirit was battered, but he kept moving, wanting to prove his worth even in the face of constant derision.
As the team moved on, Daniel fell into step behind them, the weight of the collected cores and the heavy backpack pressing down on him.
Eventually, the team cautiously approached the perimeter of the worn-out mansion.
Most of the monsters had been slain, but a few still roamed around the mansion, alerted to the presence of fresh human meat.
The moment these creatures caught the scent, they couldn't wait and soon rushed toward the team.
"Mortal zombies incoming!" the captain warned his teammates.
These zombies resembled decaying corpses, with worms crawling out of their eye sockets and blood smeared all over their bodies.
They emitted a strong, putrid smell that could make anyone nauseous.
They were called "mortal zombies" because the term "mortal" was used to define the strength level of both humans and monsters, and in this case, it denoted the lowest rank.
A mortal being possessed strength equivalent to 20 times that of a normal human, a simple way of measuring overall capabilities.
In essence, a mortal zombie's strength was akin to what a typical human could achieve, making them formidable yet manageable adversaries for the team.
As the zombies closed in, their grotesque forms moving with an unnatural speed, the team prepared for combat.
The air was thick with tension, the smell of decay overpowering.
The captain shouted, "Stay alert and keep your formations tight!"
Daniel, gripping his knife tightly, tried to steady his nerves.
He knew that his role was to stay back and avoid the direct confrontation, but he couldn't help feeling the adrenaline surge as the zombies got closer.
The other team members drew their weapons, ready to engage.
With a swift motion, the first wave of zombies was met with deadly force.
Swords slashed through decaying flesh, and the stench of death grew stronger.
Despite the horrors before him, Daniel kept his focus on his task, knowing that once the fight was over, he would have to extract the cores from these grotesque creatures.