Chapter-05
A Prisoner's Proposal
At the men's hideout, the atmosphere is tense as the two men discuss their next move.
"Ahh, we finally made it, boss. Should we extract the core?" one of the men asks eagerly.
"No, not today. I am way too tired for that. That bit*h bit my hand," the boss grumbles, nursing his injured hand.
"I see, so that's why you stabbed her. I'll tend to your injuries, boss," the other man offers, concern evident in his voice.
"You do that, and give the brat to that old slave to take care of him," the boss orders, his tone dismissive.
"I'll get to it," the man replies obediently, taking I to a jail cell where an old man in his 60s is barely holding onto his life.
"Hey, gramps, boss ordered you to take care of this brat," the man informs the old man, his tone brusque.
"Do I have a choice ? I'll do it" the old man mumbles weakly, his voice barely audible.
"You better," the man warns before handing I over and leaving the cell.
"Gramps, huh! It wouldn't be that if it wasn't for you people," old man mutters to himself, his frustration evident.
* sigh * 'Why do I always end up in situations I'm always running from? This old bag doesn't look loyal. Should I use it to my advantage? Let's see... I know! I can speak. Maybe if I say hi to him, he may think I am a prodigy and may help me. Heheheh,' I strategizes, my mind working quickly.
The old man is astonished as he gazes at the baby with jet black hair, olive green eyes, and pale skin.
"What are you looking at, old man? Behold, I am I. I am the one s—" I begins, but before I could finish, the old man lets out a loud scream and drops him, retreating to the corner of the jail cell in terror.
"Man, that hurt... I mean, blasphemy! How dare you hurt your savior!" I grumble, my irritation evident.
"Get away from me!" the old man shouts, his fear palpable.
"I wish I could, but you see, I can't walk. But I am here to save people like you," I declare confidently, attempting to reassure the old man.
"Save me?" the old man repeats, disbelief coloring his tone.
"That's right. I am heaven's child. I am sent here to give your life span back," I explains, my words dripping with authority.
"Oh, my God! Your generosity makes me tear up. Well, go ahead," the old man says, overwhelmed by I's offer.
"I just told you, I can't walk," I reminds him, my patience wearing thin.
"Ah, my bad," the old man mumbles, inching closer cautiously.
"Do it, my God! Give me my life back," the old man pleads, his desperation evident.
"Well, you see, there is a problem. I can't do it right now," I admits, my tone apologetic.
"Is it because I dropped you?" the old man asks, his guilt mounting.
"Umm, yes. Yes, because you dropped me, I have lost part of my power to recover. To regain that, I need at least two years of time," I explains, my frustration evident.
"Two years!!" the old man exclaims, horrified by the news.
"That's correct. It's all because of you. You did it," I accuse, my tone accusatory.
"Oh, my heavens! What have I done?" the old man laments, his remorse palpable.
'This is a new world. Maybe I should ask him about this new world,' I muses silently.
"Mortal, are you listening to me?" I prompts, eager to learn more.
"Y-Yes, my lord," the old man stammers, snapping out of his reverie.
"You see, I still haven't recovered all of my memories. Give me the basic idea of this world. You said earlier, 'You wouldn't be old if it wasn't for them'," I reminds him, my curiosity piqued.
"All living things in this world are born with a core, which is like a special ability—" the old man begins to explain.
"Wait, does that mean all humans?" I interrupts, my interest piqued.
"Yes, all humans, irrespective of their race, be it humans, elves, or mermaids," the old man confirms, his knowledge evident.
'Wait, there are races other than humans as well? Interesting,' I thinks, my curiosity piqued.
"The place where we are locked is a place where these bandits make slaves eat monster cores. Humans are the only species that can eat monster cores, but it depends on luck. If a human survives after eating a monster core, it means that the core was eligible for humans. But if the human dies, it means that core was not suitable. These guys then steal the core from the subject, and if the human's will to live is strong, they don't die but lose nine years of their lifespan. But if the will is weak, the human dies while his core is being stolen," the old man explains, his voice filled with bitterness.
"Wait, wait. Is there a safer way to eat more cores?" I asks, intrigued by the concept.
"You can get cores when you clear a dungeon or extract them from the dead. But you must extract them within 27 minutes," the old man reveals.
"27 minutes? That's oddly specific. Any reason?" I inquires, my curiosity piqued.
"I don't know about that," the old man admits, his knowledge limited.
"I see. So, what's your story? Have they extracted your core?" I asks, curious about the old man's plight.
"Well, I am the lucky one. They made me eat a monster core, and I survived. But I know they will extract it soon," the old man confesses, his voice filled with resignation.
"That sucks," I sympathizes, my expression one of pity.
"But I have a proposal for you, esteemed one," the old man begins, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
"What is it?" I asks, intrigued by the old man's offer.
"I will give you my core, but I want you to unalive those who betrayed me," the old man requests, his voice filled with sadness.
'Not another request, man,' I laments silently, my patience wearing thin.
"Even if I accept your request, how are we going to escape from here?" I questions, my skepticism evident.
"Does that mean you accept, esteemed one? Don't worry, I have an idea," the old man assures him, his hope renewed.
'Well, if it helps me escape from here, why not?' I concedes, my mind racing with possibilities.