Chris gradually came to, his eyes opening to find that he was in a dirty cell. He wasn't as tired as if he had been sleeping so much as as if he had been sitting, slumped against the cold wall.
The only illumination came through a crack in the corner, casting a weak, yellowish gleam that, for a split instant, sent Chris's mind racing back to waking up back home, under the sun.
He rested there with his eyes half shut, lest all this was a merely feverish hallucination.
But the excruciating hurt in his stump killed that last ray of optimism immediately, leaving him aware that he had lost his hand. He opened his eyes very, very slowly, and he saw steel bars and cold damp walls slicked up with slime.
It was a dense, stifling air thick with the odor of decay, dung, and sweat. Defeat clung to the air as a corrosive mist.
Chris cupped his hands over his eyes, letting out a great sigh.
There was nothing in the cell other than some stale crust bread as well as a rusty pail filled with filthy water. Yielding to his body, he had a drink of some water as well as tended his wound.
It hurt so badly tearing off the filthy rags all the way to the soles of his feet. He already felt as if he had been there a couple of days. He tore off a cleaner piece of cloth off his own garment, beginning to wrap the stump. It hurt each time he touched the shocked arm.
Chris looked at the wound with a hardly noticeable, almost expressionless face. He shuddered with pain, yet appeared to be accepting his destiny. Upon seeing the mutilation, the fingers of his.right hand contracted so that even through his half-delirious eyes, a momentary glance of sheer fury flashed—but short, yet undeniable.
He stood next to the wall and gazed at the orange globe of light, attempting to convince himself that it was the sun.
Unexpectedly, before his eyes appeared an interface window, as if in the game, with the following name:
[INIT
Chris gaped, his heart literally shooting up his throat. He was twenty-five, and yes, he watched anime, yet this was too realistic.
"The System. is this it? Is it possible that I can draw even more power, become even stronger? Can I escape this place?" his lips shook, a small glimmer of hope lighting up his eyes.
A message appeared on the screen:
[SYSTEM
Good job, Player! You're the first person to be awarded the Survival System.".
Hi there! You may address me as S—I shall assist during your quest. You may increase your Attributes, master your Skills, as well as activate your Abilities that otherwise cannot be unlocked.
You can master Skills other than ones that you learn, and pay Skill Points to directly improve their effectivity."
[ATTR
ATTRIBUTEা
Strength: 10
Agility: 8
Stamina: 9
Intelligence: 17
Luck: 20
Energy:
Mana: 12
Health: 70% / 100%
Attribute Points: 10 (System Gift to the first user)
Экспортировать в Таблицы
Export to Spreadsheets
[SK
SKILL
Active Skill: Other World 2/3 (Improper use by the Player; first time activated wasn't by Player decision)
Passive Skills (Other World):
Direction Shift: Does not allow leveling on points, but allows advancement on stats.
Language of Approaching Beings: Allows you to understand the language of this world. Skill is not instant; current development: 20%.
Skill Points: 3 (Granted upon leveling up, 1 point each active or passive skill)
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Chris stilled, his eyes disbelieving. In the face of this fear, this pain, there was a still, almost lost sense of hope.
"My breath caught. There is a lump obstructing my throat. Not the most enjoyable feeling…. but I'm free to go home… I'm free to escape this place!"
Invoke the 'Other World' power here!" he growled.
[SYSTEM
Unfortunately, you cannot use this ability this time. It was used the first time passively: Time Displacement. You've been moved a year back. As time on your planet proceeds synchronously to this, you will be trapped here for exactly a year. Endure it.
"I'm reading all this and I'm sure I'm going blind. Blood rushed to my head, my eyes feel like they're about to pop out of their sockets."
Are you kidding?!," he snapped, afraid even of his own voice. "I've only been here less than an hour and was already dying, and the System comes only after these crazy people attacked me!
[SYSTEM
I know. I am so sorry this was done, but it was all to keep you alive.
Who are you? Or what are you? God? Or a bored entity?" Chris growled, attempting to infill the void left in his absented hand with fury.
[SYSTEM
In the future, you will know that I cared for you… I cannot tell anymore…
He had already opened his mouth to scream, to vent everything he thought about her, but the window began to behave strangely. The words scrambled into red, distorted code, and a new window appeared:
[SYSTEM
You have already received System support in excess of the approved amount. Thank you.
The dialogue with the System vanished, leaving only the Attributes window and an uneasy feeling that something was wrong. Why would the Administration step in? To limit the System? It was too much to think about.
A new, abbreviated message appeared where the conversation had been:
[MESSAGE
Within the next year, I shall repay you. Wait.
"I need to survive there for a year… Easy to say. Impossible. I am capable of dying much sooner than I would like. But I need to survive. She is expecting there. I know everybody waits there. I shall come back!"
"Ey, lost it already, eh?" a prisoner asked, rising up to the steel bars to look closer. "Look, he's bandaging his stump with strips of cloth. so carefully." Even if he has snapped, what do we care? We're all dead men here," a voice growled from the corner. He was a young man who looked little more than twenty, missing an eye, and limping.
During the altercation, there came two armed guards accompanied by chains to the jail cell of Chris. "Ay, siya pala kumalayo. Pina-medicate ko siya. Nagalab symptoms niya tapos naging problema yung sakit niya," responded the other guard, who then received a thwack on his head. "We need him alive, at least for the time being, you idiot," the other said.
Chris listened to their speech. He understood not everything, but already understood the meaning of the conversation. Language of Approaching Beings worked.