Two days drifted past like clouds across a gray sky, indistinguishable and suffocating. Akai had spent every waking moment attempting to decipher their incomprehensible tongue—lurking in shadows, observing from hiding spots, narrowly evading the patrolling guards whose metallic armor clinked with mechanical precision.
*I don't even understand a single damned thing they're saying.*
The thought circled endlessly through his mind as he crouched within the skeleton of an abandoned house. Once, perhaps, it had been beautiful—evidence remained in the carved wooden beams and delicate archways. Now it was a rotting monument to forgotten glory, a corpse of architecture slowly returning to dust. The structure perched at the edge of the slums, that festering wound of poverty where the desperate and broken struggled against inevitable death.
From his vantage point at a broken window, face concealed by shadow, Akai observed the slum with undisguised contempt.
*God, I hate this place. I hate seeing these disgusting people.*
The words tasted bitter even in his thoughts, but he couldn't help himself. This wasn't his world. These weren't his people. He was a rat in foreign sewers, forced to scurry and hide from those who would hunt him down.
Night had become his ally—the only time he dared venture out to gather intelligence and learn the geography of this alien city. The stolen clothing helped; without it, those "metal cans" would have recognized him immediately. He fantasized about catching one of those guards alone. Just one. The things he would do...
Returning to his hideout as dawn threatened the horizon, Akai's eyes caught movement—or rather, the absence of it—in a narrow alley. A small figure lay crumpled on the ground, motionless.
*Another ant dead in this cesspool. Disgusting.*
He should keep walking. The corpse was none of his concern. Survival demanded selfishness, and sentiment was a luxury he couldn't afford.
Yet his feet refused to carry him forward.
*Fuck. Why do I have to do this? Why can't I just be selfish? Why can't I think only of myself?*
The internal battle lasted mere seconds, but felt like an eternity. With a curse, he approached the body.
The sight that greeted him nearly made him vomit.
A child—no more than twelve—lay broken and violated. Bruises marked her skin like a map of suffering. Dried fluids on her lower body told a story Akai didn't want to read. Scars, both fresh and old, painted her flesh.
His hand found her neck, checking for a pulse.
Alive. Barely.
When he turned her face toward what little moonlight remained, recognition struck like cold water. The girl from the cell. The one who'd stolen food from right in front of him, who hadn't even spared him a drop of water when he'd been parched with thirst.
*Should I save someone who wronged me? Wouldn't it be better for her to be dead already? Surviving in this kind of environment... Maybe death is the kinder judgment.*
The question hung in the air, unanswered by the uncaring night.
"Fuck you," he whispered to whoever had brought him to this godforsaken world, "fuck you for making me who I am."
He gathered the girl gently and carried her back to the abandoned house.
The bucket of water he'd stored for no particular reason suddenly had purpose. Akai found himself smirking at the irony as he carefully cleaned the girl's wounds. The cloth he'd stolen days ago became bandages. Every scrap of medical knowledge from his previous life, every trick he'd learned, came flooding back.
Stop the bleeding. Prevent infection. Keep her warm.
When he'd done all he could, Akai arranged stones in a circle on the marble floor and built a small fire. He sat with his back against the wall, watching the girl's shallow breathing, watching the firelight play across her damaged features.
*Why did I do this?*
He had no answer. Sleep claimed him before he could think further.
Evening sunlight, warm and golden, streamed through the broken windows. The girl's eyes opened slowly, confusion giving way to panic as she registered her surroundings. She was clean. Bandaged. Dressed in fresh clothes.
Then she saw him.
Akai sat against the wall, dressed in stolen finery—a black coat, fine clothes, a hat, and a dark cloak with intricate designs. The kind of attire only the wealthy could afford.
The girl's hand closed around a sharp piece of wood she'd spotted on the floor, concealing it as a weapon.
*Is he with those bastards?* Her face twisted with disgust and rage. *If he is, I'll kill him even if he kills me. Those bastards... those animals... how could they...*
She couldn't scream. Couldn't cry. Hope had abandoned her eyes, leaving only desperation.
Akai stirred, then opened his eyes. When he looked at her, his expression was so genuinely innocent, so unexpectedly kind, that her hand froze on the wooden shard. He moved slowly, carefully, taking her bandaged hand in his to examine his handiwork. A smile crossed his face—satisfaction at seeing the wounds already beginning to heal.
Without a word, he handed her food, then returned to his spot against the wall. He looked exhausted. Hungry. Humans.
*Damn. Had to go into the forest this morning in that tracksuit, nearly got caught by guards, searching for medicinal herbs. Then stealing from that magic shop... that lady almost spotted me.*
He watched from the corner of his eye as the girl devoured the food, nearly choking in her desperation. Ten to twelve years old, skeletal, covered in scars and burns. A child who'd survived on nothing but willpower and water for who knew how long.
Akai said nothing. He would let her speak first.
Hours passed in silence. Night fell. Rain began to drum against what remained of the roof.
Akai moved the campfire to a corner protected from the weather. They sat close to its warmth, and finally, the girl spoke.
*Finally!* Akai's mind practically shouted. *She's talking to me!*
His triumph lasted exactly three seconds before crushing disappointment set in. He couldn't understand a single word.
The confusion on his face must have been obvious. The girl stopped, looked at him with equal bewilderment, and tried speaking in his language. Neither understood the other.
Akai's mind raced, then inspiration struck. He pried up a loose marble tile and began drawing on the exposed ground with a piece of charcoal. Two stick figures—one representing himself, one representing her. Through crude illustrations, he conveyed his inability to understand the language.
The girl studied his drawings, then her face lit with comprehension. She took the charcoal and began her own illustration: a shop with magical symbols, a book, and the transfer of knowledge from book to person through mystical means.
Akai's reaction was immediate and undignified. He grabbed the girl and lifted her into the air, spinning once like an overexcited puppy. The girl, shocked by the sudden movement, found herself smiling despite everything.
*Finally! I can communicate with them! This changes everything!*
But the girl tugged at his clothes urgently, drawing his attention back to the ground where she'd sketched something new: a circle with a symbol in the middle, representing currency.
The book cost money.
"HOW THE FUCK—" Akai caught himself, took a deep breath, and tried to maintain composure.
"How the fuck am I supposed to keep control in this situation? I don't know the language, don't know the culture, don't know where the fucking system is.
FUCK YOU, BRINGER!"
He raised his middle finger toward the ceiling, cursing whoever had brought him to this world.
When he'd calmed down marginally, he asked through gestures how much the book would cost. The girl drew four different coins, each distinct in appearance.
*Copper at the bottom, silver next, then gold, and... some top tier I don't recognize. Probably for nobles or royalty.*
The girl pointed at his clothes to indicate color, then drew amounts: 3,000 copper coins, 300 silver coins, or 30 gold coins.
"ARE YOU INSANE?!" Akai shouted at the wall. "THREE THOUSAND COPPER COINS FOR A BOOK?! THREE HUNDRED SILVER?! THIRTY GOLD?!"
He gripped his hair, mind racing through possibilities. Underground fighting rings? Bounty hunting? Adventurer work? All too risky, too slow.
Then his hand brushed against his chest, and he felt it—the gold necklace. And his bracelet. Both still there, miraculously untouched.
He held up the jewelry to the girl. Her eyes widened in shock. She drew quickly: 100 gold coins at a jewelry shop.
Akai froze, mind calculating.
*One hundred gold coins. More than enough for the book. But how do I make the exchange without revealing I can't speak the language? How do I avoid getting scammed?*
He gestured to the girl: she would come with him, pretend to be his servant, speak to the shop owner.
She refused immediately, drawing attention to her scars. They marked her as a slave. But then she sketched out an alternative plan: find a woman to help them, someone who could pose as a maid for a day, someone who could negotiate while the girl stayed close to prevent any swindling.
*She's smart,* Akai realized with genuine admiration. *Incredibly smart for someone so young.*
They would go tomorrow evening. He would acquire proper clothes for her.
The next evening, Akai returned from bathing and began changing clothes. The girl woke to this sight and screamed, throwing the wooden shard she'd kept hidden. Akai dodged easily, then presented her with the new clothes he'd acquired.
While she dressed in privacy, Akai prepared himself mentally for the venture into the wealthy district.
The middle city was everything the slums were not—clean, beautiful, guarded by massive creatures at the gates that let Akai pass without question upon seeing his fine attire. The girl stared in wonder at red ribbons adorning hotel entrances, at magical lights illuminating shop windows.
Akai tapped her head to refocus her attention. They had work to do.
He approached a group of well-dressed teenage girls and gestured for his companion to speak with them. After some conversation and laughter, one agreed to help.
The jewellery shop owner welcomed them obsequiously, responding to Akai's expensive clothing and bearing. The teenage girl and shop owner began negotiations while Akai and his young companion watched impassively, waiting for the signal that the deal was acceptable.
When the owner examined the gold necklace and bracelet, his eyes lit up with undisguised greed.
Then the bargaining began.
It was warfare conducted through gestures and expressions. The teenager showed three fingers. The owner showed one. Back and forth, a battle of wills and economics, until finally the owner relented.
Three hundred gold coins.
*YES!* Akai's mind screamed in triumph. *THIS IS WHAT I WAS LOOKING FOR!*
They paid the teenage girl ten gold coins for her assistance. She left like a departing general after a successful campaign.
The magic bookshop was larger than Akai expected, staffed by employees who treated him like royalty upon seeing his clothes—and treated the girl like she didn't exist.
The shop owner was a middle-aged elf who regarded Akai with professional curiosity and the girl with thinly veiled disgust. When they conversed in their language, Akai felt the familiar frustration of incomprehension returning.
The girl drew three options:
!Basic language book: 30 gold coins
! Advanced language book(major languages):
60 gold coins
!Complete language book(all languages):
100 gold coins
Akai pointed to the most expensive option without hesitation.
The elf's smile broadened. He instructed an employee to prepare the ritual space while seating Akai in a chair constructed from living wood, leaves still green and growing.
Blue light emanated from the elf's hands, forming strings that connected to the book and then to Akai's temples. The world dissolved into information—grammar, vocabulary, syntax, idioms, all pouring directly into his mind.
Ten minutes passed in what felt like seconds or hours.
"Wake up, sir. Wake up, sir. Knowledge transfer complete."
Akai's consciousness reassembled itself gradually. When his eyes opened, he could *understand* the words being spoken to him. Actual comprehension, not guesswork and context.
He nearly wept with relief.
As they prepared to leave, the elf stopped them. "Sir, as my first customer to purchase such an expensive item, I wish to offer you a gift. A healing magic book—it can mend broken bones, seal wounds, even regenerate tissue if you possess sufficient mana capacity."
"Mana capacity?" Akai asked in his newly acquired language. "I haven't had that checked."
"No need to worry, sir. I can assess it for free."
"If it's free, then please do."
The elf's hands glowed as he examined Akai's spiritual essence. The light flickered, dimmed, nearly went out.
The elf's expression shifted to surprise, then concern. "Sir... this is highly unusual. Your mana capacity is extraordinarily low for someone your age."
"Is that a problem?"
"Not necessarily, sir. There are many types of energy one can utilize. Mana is merely one option. Soul energy, aura, mental energy, spiritual power—many paths exist for those with unconventional capacities."
Akai's patience, stretched thin by the day's events, finally snapped. "Can we just start the knowledge transfer?"
"Of course, sir. My apologies."
This time, the elf erected a protective barrier before beginning. Green energy, different from the blue of before, surrounded Akai like a living mist. It felt warm, ancient, fundamentally *alive* in a way the language transfer hadn't.
Another ten minutes. Another dissolution and reformation of consciousness.
When Akai woke, he thanked the elf genuinely and turned to leave with the girl.
She hesitated, as if wanting to speak, then fell silent.
Akai looked at Her—Truly looked At Her—For the first time since the alley. He knelt down to meet her at eye level, a small smile on his face.
"Hi, little girl,"
he said in her language, the words flowing naturally now.
"I'm Akai Ren.
What's your name?"