The guards stood like statues in the icy, thin corridor. They stared at the steel door, behind which ear-piercing screams wailed through the air, sending waves of fear.
The prisoners winced and turned their faces away. Tense heaviness gripped the prison. Some convicts crouched into corners, attempting to conceal themselves even from the sound.
Chris's head was twisted around, his eyes muddled. The scream continued tearing from his mouth. Veins swelled and glowed with an ugly-green color.
Each second became a minute. Stabbing pangs of pain darted from his stomach out to his limbs. Blood seemed to be seeping from his entire body simultaneously, pooling on the floor. Fresh red gashes on the armrests of the chair were made by his hands.
Why do you only manage to stay alive? If you don't climb up on your Endurance — you will perish!
His eyelids became heavy, lips quivered a little. The screams ceased by themselves. His eyes shut, inclining his head back, he muttered in a whisper:
— Ten points of traits… to Endurance…
"Do we get in trouble if he dies?" one of the guards groaned, squatting down and resting against his spear.
The other glared, but replied instantly:
"What's that got to do with us? Our job is to make sure he doesn't escape. Everything else isn't our concern."
"So it'll be Yun Fei's fault…" The first guard's lips curled into a satisfied grin, but the smile instantly faded.
Silence — sharp and hollow — fell over the prison. Both guards jumped to their feet. Slowly approaching the door, they tried to peek inside.
"Get Yun Fei!" another yelled, wrenched the door open. His blood was racing, his heart was pounding, but his legs had other plans and would not move past the doorstep. His eyes went wide at what he beheld.
As the second sprinted towards her, the first approached slowly. With every step, his hold on the spear relaxed until it came crashing onto the floor.
All he could hear was blood dripping on stone. That brought him closer to the tied body. He checked for the pulse — weak thud of life. But no breath.
The guard released him quickly, splattering himself in blood, and pulled him to a place on the floor that was free of any splashes. Yun Fei came into the room at that time.
"Is he alive?" She spoke in a cold tone.
The guard flinched under her icy stare, then in a low tone:
"There's a small life force remaining… but he's not breathing."
She clicked her tongue in exasperation and, wading through the blood, drew out some vials. She mixed the contents of these together in hasty rush and blew into the vessel and poured it down the prisoner's throat.
Chris's chest struggled for air within seconds. He gasped, grabbing for breath.
Yun Fei wiped sweat from her brow, her hands trembling slightly. The commander's words echoed in her mind, sending a chill down her spine. Her face grew pale.
"Take him to the cell next to Li Tian. Watch him every minute. If he dies…" She cut herself off and waved dismissively. "Forget it. I'll come back tomorrow with a higher-grade medicine."
They placed Chris on a bed of rocks. A splinter of wood was wedged under his head. The door shut and they observed his breathing every other few minutes in fear of what might happen.
He did not move the entire night. His face contorted with pain, his body afire with fever, dew glistening like water. It wasn't until dawn that his features eased, his breathing being regular.
Simultaneously, as she returned from the dungeon, Yun Fei recalled the encounter with her boss. She had been aware of the schemes for Earth, but not to the degree. Punishment was definite, but it amounted only to tantamountly brutal words and an order to set things straight.
The commander had even permitted her to heal the prisoner's hand — weak enough not to be any danger whatever.
Yun Fei never thought that this ordinary vein-twisting draught would prove so calamitous to him.
She held tightly in her cell a package — his own severed hand.
The voices within the cell awakened Chris, but even when he opened his eyes, he didn't move.
"Maybe if I remain still, they'll leave me alone…"
A splash of icy water splashed him. His body stiffened, but he could not get up. All his muscles felt like chains.
With effort, his head canted to the side. Yun Fei sat down beside him. Her grin created a strange feeling in his stomach—and it most definitely was not butterflies.
Visually, Chris tried to shift back, but only his head moved.
"Easy," her voice was soft, free of any anger.
She went on:
This time, I had an offer. I see that you can't speak—your vocal cords are in deplorable shape, I examined. We'll repair your arm and body. And you'll tell us about your world."
Chris nodded. "Survival first. Doing that again…" His body flinched reflexively.
"I understand that you're scared. But if you'd said something right away—
"That bit… I couldn't even speak your damn language!" His face reddened with anger, scorching his blood.
"Those eyes…" Yun Fei tilted her head to one side, her smile twisting into a more fitting face for an executioner. "Creepy."
"Don't even dream of revenge. We'll treat you, and you'll talk. You have no option. If you wish to live a little longer, treatment will be your motivation."
"She's completely mad… smiling about someone's life…" Even with the anger, Chris nodded.
Guards unwrapped his mutilated arm and set it back onto the stump, binding it with white bandages.
Chris's eyes bulged—more from shock at being treated than from pain.
Yun Fei pulled out a vial of yellowish glowing liquid. She dabbed some on his arm, and then tried to pour the rest down his throat.
His body responded again as if a second wave of energy passed through it. He fought against them with every ounce of strength, but the guards held him firmly. The liquid continued to pour down his throat. For him, it was round two of torture.
His eyes reddened, his breathing rose and fell in rapid gasps. The air was charged with tension.
Yun Fei arched her eyebrows, her head tilted:
"Clean anger. you can almost touch it. Maybe I will just kill you after all."
She stood up and, turning away, tossed over her shoulder:
"I'll be back in a couple of hours. You'll tell me everything."
Chris stiffened again, looking at the closed door. In his head, imprecations started to spill for this world—and its system.
Notification.
Your health is in critical condition: 12% out of 100.
You have been gifted a Mystic-grade Healing Potion. It is produced from flowers that bloom once every three years and only thrive on the equatorial region of the planet.
Assimilation and healing will take around an hour. Sleeping is recommended for best results.
When he realized that the potion may actually work for him, Chris calmed down. For the first time, since he came to this world, he slept because of exhaustion.
He woke up to a series of notifications. They flashed consecutively. Opening his eyes, he made an effort to sit up.
He felt his left arm. It moved! Not fully healed yet, but… "A miracle! I can move it!"
He raised his arms, and then shuddered in pain.
"Ow—ow ow…" But the smile did not vanish. It was a first victory. He was still a prisoner, but his hope had returned.
System S.
Congratulations. Your passive skill "Language of Those Who Walk Closer" has achieved 80%.
Chris almost took the message out of the air:
"Eighty?! That fast?!"
System S.
Pfff… you simply need to check your notifications more frequently. I can't flash them in your face all day, every day.
He opened his status and saw a bell with a red dot. Inside, he noticed that the language skill had leveled up on its own, without his explicit effort.
Chris's eyes gleamed:
"So other skills can be trained too? Then getting stronger won't be that hard. I'll break out of here and smash those bastards!"
The grin on his face turned sharp, almost villainous.
System S.
What's the creepy smile all about?. never mind. The language skill is passive, linked to your 'Otherworld Gift.' That's why it leveled itself up. Others won't. They only gain through stat points—which, by the way, you can't use ):
"That damn thing's flirting with me…"
Chris didn't have to say a word; his face spoke volumes.
"You're unexpectedly calm. Smiling, even… like you're not in prison at all," said a deep voice. Resonant, hypnotic—it filled the air with energy.
"Where is that coming from?." Chris scowled, eyebrows raised. No answer.
"Don't matter…"
"That's just the type of human being I am. When things go south—I whine first, then complain. But eventually, I smile… because no matter what, I'll do whatever it takes to resolve the issue and survive."