Chapter 68: A Fish That Can Only Live in Muddy Waters (1)

[68] S1. A Fish That Can Only Live in Muddy Waters (1)

Shafiq de Fasitao Rodiner si Olaminea kun Dinar.

He dreams of the World Tree again today.

Even though it’s been 300 years, the dream is still vivid.

The sound of leaves rustling in the breeze.

The damp smell of freshly sprouted buds.

The woodcut-like patterns the broken sunlight draws on the trees.

The gentle touch of an ancient wind.

The bitter scent of the lush forest.

And, the Mother World Tree.

An enormous tree holding up the blue sky.

Her benevolent gaze looks down on all.

But no other elves are there.

Some fish, I guess, can only live in muddy waters.

*Kaang-*

It’s always the sharp sound of metal scraping that shatters his dreams.

Shafiq opens his eyes.

Beyond the bars, a giant shadow, blocking the light from the magic lamps, comes into view.

The shadow tosses a bundle it had been carrying on its shoulder onto the floor and shuts the cell door.

Shafiq crawls on his knees to the bundle and then feels a deep sense of disappointment.

Because it wasn’t lunch, but his roommate.

His friend, who’d been dragged out about three hours ago, howling like a wounded beast, but now he’s just staring blankly at nothing.

Shafiq touches his neck.

A coldness, without the slightest hint of movement.

It tells him that what’s before him isn’t a person, but a chunk of meat.

Shafiq sighs and leans against the wall,

closing his eyes, trying to go back to sleep.

But an elf’s ears are sensitive.

All sorts of sounds travel through the cold stone walls.

Screams for help.

Groans of pain.

The ominous mutterings of those who’d lost their minds.

The roars of those who couldn’t endure it anymore.

Shafiq finally gives up on sleep. Sighing, he looks up at the ceiling.

A single magic lamp was hanging from the black ceiling.

Faint, and flickering erratically, it’s a terrible foreshadowing of the future.

This place… It’s called the Betelgeuse Laboratory.

The largest human experiment facility on the continent,

and a man-made hell.

***

It was misfortune that led Shafiq here.

300 years ago, elf hunting was all the rage.

And Shafiq was only five.

He was caught by an elf hunter and sold here. A misfortune that stemmed from his desire to see the morning star.

But it was greed that kept him here.

After the ‘Hero’ Alain defeated the Demon King…

Thanks to his companion, ‘Sword Saint’ Dahlia, elf hunting was banned. And naturally, so was elf ownership.

However, elves were still valuable test subjects, and the tower master back then was a cunning human.

A few backroom deals, a few fabricated ledgers…

Before he knew it, Shafiq was no longer an elf, but a ‘Special Test Subject’. The magic tower had gained semi-permanent ownership of him.

And so, the child of the World Tree became a lab rat.

Shafiq, of course, had no idea about this. Even if he had, he wouldn’t have cared.

Environment and time shape us all, in one way or another.

And that includes elves.

300 years—enough time for a young elf to consider this hell his home.

He would sometimes dream of the World Tree, but it was closer to a daydream than a desire.

A place like heaven or paradise, somewhere he could never reach.

Shafiq didn’t even dream of escaping.

He simply wished to survive.

And so, the child of the World Tree rotted away in this place.

It was on one such day that the man arrived.

A new roommate.

He was tossed into the cell by the shadow, a pitiful mess.

It wasn’t because he didn’t have a hand or an eye.

And it wasn’t because he had lost his voice.

But his wretchedness stemmed from his sorrow.

He looked as if he were about to kill himself, even if he hadn’t been brought here.

He wouldn’t eat even when they brought food,

he would moan in his sleep, as if tormented by nightmares,

and even when he was awake, he’d just curl into a ball and tremble.

It was obvious that he wouldn’t last long.

That’s why Shafiq didn’t pay him much attention.

Or rather, Shafiq didn’t pay much attention to anyone. In the end, they’d all just become chunks of meat.

He just hoped that he would die soon.

It was uncomfortable sharing a small cell.

But he didn’t die.

Not even after countless experiments.

He was dragged away almost every day, but never returned as a corpse.

Even if he thrashed violently in agony, he’d always come back alive. He even managed to survive experiments so harsh that his hair turned white.

In fact, it seemed like he was getting stronger, even in the face of suffering.

Like an ember rekindled in a strong wind.

But even then, Shafiq didn’t pay him any attention.

300 years,

in those 300 years, he had seen countless people come and go.

Some had been saints, strong enough to seem invincible,

some had been stubborn and tenacious,

and some had been as hard as iron, seeming to feel nothing.

But all of them were powerless in the face of pain.

The saints had gone mad, bashing their heads against the wall until they died,

the tenacious ones had starved themselves to death,

and the ones as hard as iron had been dragged away, crying like children.

This man would be no different, Shafiq thought.

… That thought changed on the day that marked one month since the man had arrived.

***

A loud scream filled the prison cell.

“_____!”

Shafiq screamed, clutching his chest. He thrashed on the floor, his head banging against the cold stone like an insect,

Pain as if fire were burning through his veins.

“Haah…! Haah…! Keck…! Cough! Cough…!”

It was only after three hours that the pain subsided.

His body was drenched in sweat and other fluids,

and his throat was raw from countless screaming.

Shafiq, tears streaming down his face, thought.

It’s finally his turn.

He had been able to survive for 300 years, not because he was strong, but because the mages hadn’t decided what they wanted to use him for.

Test subjects are, after all, consumables, and he was the most expensive one among them.

The only elf test subject, something impossible to acquire now.

They couldn’t use him carelessly.

But it seems those mages had finally reached a decision after 300 years.

Lately, the intensity of the experiments had been increasing.

The side effects were also severe, to the point where he couldn’t even sleep properly.

Soon, seizures would probably start.

He would convulse again and again,

and then, one day, be dragged away for the final experiment,

to be returned as a cold chunk of meat.

Shafiq felt his hand trembling.

It was ridiculous,

He knew that this day would come,

and he thought he’d prepared himself,

but he couldn’t stop his hand from shaking.

He swallowed down the sobs.

It was then.

He felt something poking him in his side, poke, poke.

Shafiq reflexively turned his head. And he was bewildered.

It was that man,

the man who had no eyes, no hands, no voice.

He was frowning, poking Shafiq in his side.

“What is it?”

It was the first words Shafiq had ever spoken to that man.

Not exactly the best way to start a relationship.

But the man didn’t care.

He picked up a piece of charcoal from god knows where with his foot and then started writing on the floor.

[You no want escape?]

Shafiq’s eyes widened.

Of course, it wasn’t the question itself that surprised him.

He’d heard those kinds of proposals disguised as questions countless times during his 300 years here.

In fact, he had even tried to escape with them a couple of times.

What surprised him was the fact that it was this man who was asking.

“You? With no hands, blind, and you can’t even cast spells because you’re mute? You’re talking about escaping?”

The man’s face hardened.

Shafiq, on the other hand, couldn’t help but scoff.

“Wake up, bastard. Even those with all their limbs couldn’t get out of here.”

Shafiq thought of all the dumbasses who’d tried to escape. They might not have been the sharpest tools in the shed, but at least they had functioning hands and feet.

“If you want to die, then go hang yourself. I’m not interested.”

And then, Shafiq turned away.

He didn’t want to listen to any more nonsense.

Escape…

It’s a word that had become so distant that he couldn’t even imagine it.

Rather than attempting such a thing, he’d rather pray to God.

…Of course, Shafiq no longer believed in God, or the World Tree.

Shafiq closed his eyes, feeling his heart sink. And slowly, into slumber…

*Poke. Poke.*

Again, something poking at his side.

Anger surged up, but he held it back. He knew that ignoring these types was the best way to deal with them.

*Poke. Poke.*

…If I just ignore him for a while, he’ll eventually get tired and give up. It’s always been like that for the past 300 years…

*Thud. Thud.*

…Even this is within the expected range.

Just endure it. Why should I even bother with him when he’s going to turn into a chunk of meat in a month…

*WHACK-!*

“Ugh…!”

Shafiq, holding his head, rolled on the floor. He then jumped to his feet and glared at the man.

“You little shit! You want to go at it?”

The man frowned and shook his head.

“What do you mean, ‘no’? You think a guy who doesn’t want to fight would throw the first…!!”

The man picked up a piece of charcoal with his foot. He quickly scribbled something on the floor.

[Not going to die.]

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Can you speak so people can understand…”

[You not die from experiments]

“…What?”

The man continued writing, his movements frantic.

[Me, mage. Can’t magic, but sense mana. The experiments they doing, you transform.]

His sentences were short, maybe because his toes were hurting.

Shafiq’s face contorted.

“Transform? What the hell are you talking about?”

The man massaged his toes for a moment and then wrote.

[You transform into monster, fate worse than death.]

Shafiq felt as if his heart had frozen over.

Monster, transformation, disposal.

It happened, not often, but sometimes.

Hideous monsters, no longer human.

Tears of blood flowing from their eyes.

Strange cries, as if pleading for death.

A fate crueler than death.

*Is that what’s going to happen to me?*

“No, no way.”

Shafiq shook his head, baring his teeth, he glared at the man.

“You little shit, you’re just lying to try to drag me into this, aren’t you? You think this is the first time I’ve seen someone like you?”

If there was one thing that Shafiq learned from his 300 years in this place, it was that humans are weak.

Before death, people easily abandon morality and dignity. Loyalty and friendship, too, were the same.

“Just try to escape, I’ll…”

[So you just stay here and die?]

Shafiq was speechless.

The man looked at him with cold eyes and continued writing,

[The best outcome you can expect is to die painlessly on the operating table. Can you accept that?]

There’s no way he could accept it.

What kind of creature could accept such a fate?

Shafiq was simply acknowledging reality.

“You fucking idiot, I’ve been here for 300 years. Do you have any idea how many people managed to escape? Only five! Out of thousands who tried, only *five*…”

[So not impossible.]

“Are you serious? Why would you bet your life on such low…”

[So you just stay here and die from experiments.]

Shafiq was speechless again.

The man, taking advantage of this, filled in what little space was left.

[And fuck you, do you think you’re the only one who can swear? I know you’re sensitive from being locked up for 300 years, but couldn’t you at least listen to my plan before you start cussing me out??]

“Plan?”

Shafiq repeated the utterly untrustworthy word.

But the man simply nodded with a determined face.

As if he had a fool-proof plan.

It wasn’t the first time Shafiq had seen someone make that face, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t heard people spout bullshit with that same look in their eyes.

But strangely, Shafiq felt tempted.

Was it because of the sorrow he’d shown when he first arrived?

Or maybe it’s because of the strange determination on his face?

Or maybe it was because his words hit a little too close to home.

“Huu…”

Shafiq let out a sigh and plopped himself down.

“Fine, let’s hear it.”

*It wouldn’t hurt to just listen.* He thought, and then he looked at the man.

“…!”

But the man, instead of picking up the charcoal, grimaced. Clutching his foot, he started rolling around on the floor.

…He had a cramp in his foot.

Shafiq muttered, feeling deeply unimpressed.

“What a fucking idiot…”

***

Author’s Afterword:

Woof woof!!!

(Another chapter coming right up!!!)