"The Boss has summoned me?" Rustace was nervous as he followed Royl to a cabin and knocked it subtly.
"Come in." A young voice resounded from within, confusing him.
'He's just a kid!' Rustace was stunned once he entered the cabin and stared at Iota. He joined his hands in prayer and asked, "Sir, why did you summon me?"
The room was in the shape of a square, spanning a side of three metres. There were shelves embedded into the walls, holding empty scrolls, ink and brushes, and other miscellaneous items.
Placed in the centre of the room was a table, on which a scroll was unfurled. Iota sat on one side, calm as he observed Rustace, 'This is a healthy individual.'
"I was observing the qualities of your blood," Iota placed a syringe on the table and tapped it once. He made eye contact with Rustace, "How long did it usually take for you to heal from injuries?"
"Ahh, it's about that, yes." Rustace heaved a long breath in relief, less nervous now, "I've always healed faster than others. A scrape that takes a day to scab for others barely takes an hour or two for me."
"Are you the only one with such healthy characteristics?" Iota asked, "What about your children? Did they inherit your traits too?"
"Yes, everyone in my family is similar." Rustace nodded, "As far as I know, even my great-grandfather was the same."
The healing ability displaced by Rustace wasn't anything spectacular. It wasn't as if he could regenerate from lost limbs like a lizard. No, his healing prowess was just faster than other humans.
At the end of the day, his healing capabilities were just what a human was naturally capable of. But, that didn't diminish its value, especially for Iota who was still injured.
It wasn't easy for peeled skin to grow back. When he injected himself with human blood at regular intervals, his skin regrew a bit faster than usual. But, the rate was at least thrice faster when injected himself with Rustace's blood.
This meant that every time he was injured in the future, as long as he used Rustace's blood, he would make a faster recovery. Therefore, Iota wished to accumulate more of the same.
"Your blood is valuable," Iota stated truthfully, "I'm working on creating a medicine that enhances the healing properties present in your blood. Once I succeed, we'll be able to help the people better."
"That's why you were collecting blood from everyone?" Rustace muttered in shock, "I never knew the city was this concerned about our lives."
Upon realising that despite giving them a blessed life, the authorities of Garobu City were further concerned with making their lives better, Rustace's Faith became further reinforced.
It was all a misunderstanding on his part since he saw two Priests on the ship, thinking that this endeavour was taken up by Garobu City's ruling class. In truth, this was all for Iota's personal benefit. The people could be damned for all he cared.
Of course, Iota had zero intentions to correct the misunderstanding. He further fuelled the misunderstanding, behaving like a Spirit, "We exist to serve the people. And the stronger the Faith people have in us, the better we're able to serve you."
"Thank you for your grace. Thank you!" Rustace bowed in a hurry, in jubilation.
"You can bring your family and work here from tomorrow," Iota said calmly, "As long as their blood is the same as yours, they'll help hasten my research. They'll also receive the same salary as you, so the choice is yours."
"It's our honour." Rustace prostrated on the floor in happiness and rushed out of the cabin, "I'll bring them right away."
"Well, he's enthusiastic." Iota retracted the syringe and returned to his cabin. Preparations were ongoing at full scale within the ship. Myurah had already begun to advertise the place.
The drugs were just secondary. They were also selling tea, a new product that Myurah created for exclusive use within the ship. In two days, they will start the operation, "Until then, I'll have to arm myself better."
…
Honk!
A truck arrived at a halt before a certain orphanage as the driver jumped out and adjusted his clothes, using a kerchief to wipe his sweat, "Man, it's hot out here."
He had marine hair resembling moss, unkempt from a lack of personal care. His clothes showed evident traces of wear and tear, having been washed too many times and employed for years.
His pot belly danced with every step he took as the middle-aged man entered the orphanage and noticed the luggage strewn at the entrance. He opened it and observed the clothes belonging to a girl.
After a few seconds of observation, he took out an underwear and placed it over his nose, sniffing it a little to mutter, "That's the smell of my daughter, alright."
He returned the underwear where it belonged and dragged the luggage with him, placing them above a sofa in the living room. The cupboard-shaped wall clock had been pushed aside, revealing a flight of stone stairs heading underground.
"The director was part of a Cult, as I suspected." The middle-aged man calmly descended the flight of stairs and arrived at the underground room where a pile of bones were on one side.
He first entered the secret room attached to it, shaking his head as he clicked his tongue, "All documents have been destroyed. Destruction of property isn't good, Iota. Well…"
He tilted his head before laughing, "If it's him, all the data is in his mind already. Anyway, it seems he has succeeded."
Arriving at the centre of the room, he stared at the gaping circular hole that had formed in the floor, a foot deep. The middle-aged man stared at it, shuddering upon sensing the overbearing energy fluctuation.
He extended his hand and gently touched the floor within the circle, retracting it in reflex as his skin peeled off instantly. His index finger aged by a couple of decades, turning old and wrinkly, "A mere contact aged my finger to this extent. Terrifying indeed."
Normally, anyone in his position would be in a state of fluster due to fear, for aging in an instant would cause fear even for the most hardened veterans. The middle-aged man, on the other hand, broke into maniacal laughter, "He…succeeded."
"I hoped he would, and he actually cracked the rules of transmigration." He panted hoarsely as his gaze heated up, "Thanks for breaching a channel open, my dear Iota. I'll follow through now."
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