Chapter 01 - Black Island

I am an enemy. I have no specific enemies in the world—I have made enemies for myself. Just as people make friends for their convenience, I have made enemies. Anyone who possesses what I lack is my enemy. From the beginning of my life until now, I have lived by this principle.

Encouraging a person's good qualities brings rewards very late—sometimes, that delay lasts a lifetime. But encouraging a person's bad qualities yields rewards quickly, making life easier. That is why I have made it my way of life. Step by step, I have reached a point where the whole world hates me. Tomorrow, I will be publicly hanged in the capital. My name is Emperor.

The truth about me, which no one has ever known, will never be revealed. I am writing this in a book meant only for myself, intending to burn it a few hours before my execution. No one knows where I was born, how I grew up, or what I used to do—and I never wanted to tell anyone. To be honest, even I do not know how, where, or under what circumstances my journey began. But as far back as I can remember, I grew up in a place filled with people like me.

What was that place? How did I get there? Who were my parents? These questions have haunted me to this day. I have only vague memories. It was an island in the middle of the ocean. No matter how hard I try, I cannot recall much beyond that. Strangely, I do not remember anything about the island's surroundings, since we were all blind during my time there.

My life was engulfed in such darkness that I could not even recognize or perceive the people around me. I do not know how old I was at the time. I shaped my understanding of the world solely through the sounds I heard.

Every day followed the same routine. My blindness prevented me from tracking time or acting accordingly. But at a particular moment each day, a loud noise would wake me. Immediately after, some people, whom I could only identify by the sound of their whips, would move through the area, forcing all the blind boys awake.

I would rise as soon as I heard the noise, trying to avoid the sting of their whips. But many boys, slower than me, would cry out in pain as they were struck. Even though I could not see them, I could hear their sobs.

I estimate that at least a thousand boys were there, including me. Each day, after the awakening noise, the whip-bearing men would lead us to a vast, open space. It was done with an eerie precision, like an army following strict orders. No one dared to speak. If anyone made a sound, the whips would lash twice as hard. Some boys resisted at first, but they all eventually surrendered to the pain.

As soon as we reached the field in silence, cold water would pour down on us from somewhere. The icy splashes, like ten needles piercing our bodies from one side, combined with the wind blowing over the waves of the sea from the other, were unbearable for most. That is why some of the boys would cry out helplessly when the water hit them. However, their cries would soon turn into wild, uncontrollable wails. After some time, the water shower would stop.

The men would then lead us back and make us sit at a long wooden table in a spacious hall-like area. After a while, some machines would make noises, and an iron plate would appear on the table in front of us, holding a snack. To this day, if there is one thing I still hate in life, it is the days I spent in that place. The snack on the plate was available for only a short period. If you did not eat it within that time, you had to wait until the next meal. That was why everyone ate in silence while the food lasted. As soon as the meal ended, the iron plates would retract on their own, as if someone had flipped a switch.

After that, some devices—whose names I did not even know—would appear before us, accompanied by a set of tools. Our job was to use those tools to assemble the devices into finished objects. All day long, I created hundreds of these objects with many others like me. Finally, at the end of our work, a loud alarm would sound as usual, signaling that the day's labor was over. There was no time to talk to each other. The men with whips would then herd us back to our sleeping area, driving us forward like cattle.

We had no understanding of what we were doing, why we were doing it, how long we had been doing it, for whom we were doing it, or even how many of us were involved. It was in this endless void of ignorance that an idea entered my mind—an idea that, at the time, I did not realize would change my life forever.

One day, while we were walking back from work to our resting area, something like a stone struck my foot, causing me to stumble and fall onto a boy in front of me. As soon as I touched his body, I realized he was as tall as me.

I quickly got up, reached out, and touched him again before saying, "I fell on you accidentally. Don't think wrong about me."

"There is nothing wrong with that," he replied. "But how do you know? You are just as blind as I am. It would be better if we both didn't bump into others. What is your name?"

At that moment, I realized something—I did not have a name. That was the day I first understood that every person has a name, and that is how we distinguish one from another.

He repeated his question.

"I do not have a name. I don't even know what a name is. How did you come here?" I asked.

When I realized that I had no answer to his question, I asked him again.

"I was brought here by force," he replied. "My father sold me for a hundred bucks. Our home is near this place..."

He was about to say something more when suddenly, a loud scream cut through the air.

I was about to turn back when I heard a harsh voice say, "Oh, you blind fool! What are you blabbering about ? Do you want to have a meeting and try to run away from here? Do you think it's possible while we are here?"

The boy who had answered me was whipped, and his cries of pain sent a strange thrill through me.

"Oh, you crazy fool," the man continued. "No matter how many meetings you hold, you will never escape from here. To ensure you remain completely under our control, the boss has ordered that all your tongues be removed so you will never talk and attempt to run away again.

Tomorrow morning, you will all undergo surgery, and your tonguesbwill be removed. The boss is coming here with the doctor in charge. Now go to bed immediately and get up as soon as the alarm goes off. If any of you try anything, I will beat you to a pulp and throw you aside, you worthless brats!"

The man who seemed to be their leader spoke cruelly, his words sending a chill down my spine.