When I opened my eyes, I was in my bed, and Rud was beside me. "Are you okay, Mr. Angel?" I didn't know what had happened; it felt like it was all a dream. Was it not a dream? Did I really meet that old man? If I did meet him, how did I end up here? "Mr. Angel, what are you thinking? What exactly happened in the dungeon?" I explained everything to Rud.
"I didn't see any person beside you there, nor any tree or flower near you. The dungeon had collapsed, and you were lying on the ground before the pillar fell on you. I took you out immediately. Did you clear the dungeon?"
As I pondered over the events in my mind, confusion swirled like a tempest within me. The memory of the encounter with the old man felt vivid and real, yet Rud's account contradicted everything. Was it possible that I had hallucinated the entire experience, or perhaps it was a dream so lifelike that it felt tangible? The more I tried to make sense of it, the more elusive the truth became, leaving me feeling adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Was I losing my grip on reality, or was there something more mysterious at play?
"All's well that ends well, so, disciple, how are you doing?" a man who appeared to be in his twenties asked me. "Old man, you're here. Why do you look so young?" Rud stared at me, then glanced towards the young man. "Who are you talking to?" Rud asked with a strange look, as if he were thinking that something might be wrong with my brain. I don't exactly know what he's thinking; it's just my opinion that maybe he's considering that possibility. These days, I'm thinking a lot. I'm overthinking a lot.
I didn't observe clearly, but now that I'm observing him, I notice he has blonde hair and blue eyes. Anyone would mistake him for being very young, but I think he's more aged than he looks.
"Disciple, are you lost in thought?" the old man said. If I talk to the old man, I may be considered a crazy person, so it's better that I hurry and send Rud out of my room.
"Rud, I am fine. I need a little rest." Rud stood up. "If you need anything, ask the servant. I am going. Take care," he said as he left.
"Old man, do you want me to prove that I am crazy and talk to walls or something?" The old man pouted, looking annoyed by my words. "I have a name. Either call me Raven or call me Master," the old man insisted.
This old man first tried to kill me, and now he's being friendly. "I will call you old man. Do whatever you want to do. And by the way, when did I agree to become your disciple? If you think I will be part of one of your stories, then you are wrong. You chose the wrong person because when I left the heavenly realm, I left my kindheartedness there itself. Now I don't have any kindness left, so don't even think of it." I straightforwardly said it because I don't want to be a part of it. All I have to do is focus on my goal. I don't want anyone's legacy or anything, I stated firmly.
"Whatever you say, you are still kindhearted and an angel by heart. I haven't seen anyone with a soul as pure as yours. You are the only one who can help me reach my goal, and I have chosen you." The old man is very stubborn; he is not listening. I don't want any attachments with anyone, whether they are living creatures or dead.
"I will give you a fair deal: you help me reach my goal, and I'll help you reach yours. How does that sound?" The old man doesn't even know what I want from him, but he is suggesting this kind of arrangement.
"Do you know what I need? All I need is revenge. Can you do it? I want any means to achieve my revenge, not only for myself but also for Arnold," I spoke clearly to him.
"Umm, who is Arnold? Is he your brother?" Raven asked me.
"It's none of your business. All you want is to pass on your legacy. Do you know what I am going through? I didn't even know how or what to do to achieve my goal. All I did was speak for humans like you, and maybe this is my karma. Whatever goes, comes back tenfold to me."
I don't know if I am pitying myself or Arnold. I didn't even focus on that old man's story because I have my own problems and a lot going on in my mind. I don't have any sympathy left to sympathize with this old man. Everyone wants to tell their own story, but they don't like to listen to me. Do I have to listen to everyone's stories without reacting to them? I have my own problems; here I am, roaming around, living off someone else when I should be carrying my own burden. Do I have the right to sympathize with someone else?
"See, old man, I don't need your help. I have my own problems to deal with. I don't even have money in my pockets, and I am living under someone else's roof. How can I even deserve to take your legacy? It would be a burden for you, and I don't think I deserve your sword art or the right to inherit your strategies." The old man thought for a while, then his eyes sparkled with energy. "Your problem is my problem. I will help you have your own roof over your head, all the luxury in this world, and make you a global lord ranker. But in return, all you have to do is form a contract with me." Listening to his offer, after rejecting him once, I think it's worth a try. It's not like he will scam me or anything.
"But I have a condition before the contract," I said, even though I was the one who was benefiting from this. "You should start your story because I don't want to hear, and you lack narration. It wasn't heart-touching; I felt like all you did was pick up from somewhere and pasted it. Even a fake story narration would be better than yours." The old man looked down. "Ok," he said with a sad face. "But can I only talk to you, and only you can see me. can't you cut me some slacks?" he said making a sad and down face.
"Alright, let's cut to the chase, old man. Stick to the important stuff; your life story isn't exactly on my priority list," I clarified, hoping to steer the conversation back on track. "Fine, fine," he grumbled, clearly not thrilled with my bluntness.
"Now, about that contract," he continued, suddenly eager. "I just need your hand to seal the deal."
I hesitated, a gnawing sense of distrust creeping in. What if he was trying to pull a fast one on me? Trusting someone I barely knew seemed like a risky move. "Nope, not falling for that," I retorted, shaking my head. "I'll make the contract myself. Just touch the parchment and say the magic words, alright?"
With that, I proceeded to draft the contract with the assistance of the system, ensuring to infuse it with a bit of my divine energy for added security. After all, I wasn't about to let him wriggle out of any loopholes without consequences.
ndeed, trapping a dead being in a loop would be a worst-case scenario. But in this case, I wasn't taking any chances. By infusing the contract with my divine energy, I ensured that if Raven attempted any funny business, he'd be stuck in that loop indefinitely. It was a failsafe measure to protect myself and ensure he played by the rules.
"now sign it. I have signed and done my part, and now it's your turn," he signed the contract. Now everything is settled, but it looks like I have forgotten something important in the dungeon. "What happened?" Raven asked me. "Looks like I have forgotten something in the dungeon, something very important." I was wondering what I had forgotten when suddenly it clicked in my mind. "Poppy, what happened to him?" I finally remembered what I was missing.
Meanwhile, Poppy in the dungeon muttered to himself, "Stupid master, at least free me from the contract. I'm stuck here in this dungeon. Get me out of here." His voice cracked with desperation as he sniffled, the damp air of his confinement weighing heavily on his spirits. "Stupid master left me here with these insects... They've tied me up and are having a feast." Another sniffle punctuated his words, the echo of his loneliness reverberating through the darkness. "Mother, father, uncle, aunt, brother, and sister... Whoever can hear me, please save me from these insects."