Robert Vlaho
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[1% LIFESTEAL] Chapter 27 - Alive
🕑 Added 2023-09-12 07:17:01 +0000 UTCFreddy sat in his dark cell with a small globule of water floating around his body in an unstable orbit, losing a few drops every few seconds. As the last of the water left the grasp of his essence control, he used Create Water. His arms were trapped in a profoundly filthy straitjacket, and the burst of water from his right hand flowed into the dirty clothing.
With all the focus he could muster, he extracted a few drops of the conjured water before they could disappear, while the rest vanished, returning to essence. The liquid he grasped formed yet another ball, and that sphere again made its way around his body.
Reaching the peak of a stage zero ability and preparing it for an upgrade wasn’t awe-inspiring. But it frequently required a lot of time. Combat-oriented abilities grew optimally in, well, combat, and tempering techniques needed a vast investment of time and essence to grow.
Given that he had nothing but time and essence in this dingy cell, it took Freddy nearly no time to perfect the ether shell for Hundred Wet Hells. By now, whenever he used the tempering technique, the surface of his body visibly vibrated under the intense forces raging inside him.
But, as he continued using the ability, the less and less that turbulence could do to him. The ability was no longer growing; consequently, his resistance had drastically outpaced it.
So then he had moved on to Abyssal Depths. Yet again, it took close to no time to max it out and for the effect to drastically slow down. His body was shriveled, thinning, and withering under the lack of movement and calories, but he was still at least as heavy as he had been before losing all that body mass, purely due to all the water that had been compressed into his form.
And finally, Freddy had maxed out Water Body as well. While 1% Lifesteal made this ability obsolete, in his circumstances, he was sure that it was likely the only reason he could even think straight. It was fantastic at eliminating inflammations, easing joint and muscle pain, and improving his health.
Surprisingly, Create Water had not been maxed out yet, but it was getting close.
Despite his overall growth being relatively impressive, given his utter lack of freedom and resources, he barely progressed in growing his star. The capacity had, at most, increased by roughly 10% since he had been thrown in here.
But that was far from surprising to Freddy. He barely had more freedom than an industrial farm animal, let alone enough to train properly.
The gag that filled his mouth had a hole in it. When it was time to ‘feed’ Freddy, an employee or servant would walk in, put a funnel to the gag hole, and pour disgusting slop into it. Or, occasionally, not-so-disgusting slop.
Freddy guessed that his meals were a product of blending all the leftovers of whatever the employees and clan members ate that day. The quality and amount of food he received varied, and occasionally he received none.
He was shackled right above a hole in the ground, and his suit had a just barely convenient enough gap for whenever he had to do his business.
For a long time, his life had come down to seeking ways to entertain himself. Once he ran out of abilities to grow, he resorted to practicing his essence control. As the ball of water accidentally touched his shoulder, a good part seeped into the cloth, and the remainder collapsed as Freddy lost control of it.
Just as he was about to Create Water again, the giant steel door of his cell opened with an all-too-familiar screech.
A large man dressed in muted red robes walked in and unlocked the shackles that held Freddy attached to the wall. He could do little to resist as the man picked him up over the shoulder and hauled him out of the room.
Before long, the guard, with Freddy in tow over his shoulder, reached a large chamber paved in pale stone. There were a few doors along the edges, and a large window on the ceiling revealed a small patch of the sky, one that Freddy hadn’t seen in a long while.
However, he had no time to ponder the clouds as his attention was occupied by something else entirely. As several red-robed individuals guided them, numerous naked, completely bald prisoners were put into lines, with cracking whips and authoritative yells ensuring they all stayed in line.
Freddy was placed at the end of the line. He stood on top of a two-by-two meter metallic grill, with light faintly illuminating a pool of liquid beneath it. The thought that the grill would open and drop him into the pool struck him suddenly, but—
Before Freddy could react, a man splashed him with a stinky fluid. It prickled his skin on contact, but he could feel the grime and filth being melted away… together with his clothes and what was little was left of his hair, both disappearing at the touch of what could only have been some sort of special acid. The resulting concoction of melted organic material flowed through the grill, adding to the container of rancid liquid below.
That, at least, explained why everyone was nude and bald.
The acid didn’t seem to be dangerous, but it was quite irritating, with the bit that got into Freddy’s eyes burning so bad he could barely see. Thankfully, he was hosed down after a few seconds.
Moments after the last of the filth was washed off his body, he was pushed forward into the line, making space for another prisoner up for a bath.
Although he was drenched, it didn’t take too long for his nude form to dry, leaving him feeling surprisingly clean. A glance at his body revealed something that came as a shock, even to him.
His skin was so fucked up that he barely even looked human. Numerous pale scars were scattered all over, varying in shape and size, and noticeable ‘lumps,’ among other imperfections, including black spots, visibly protruding veins, and patches of yellow or otherwise discolored skin, were spread among them. Raising his eyes, he spotted a few prisoners take their eyes off him in panic when they spotted him looking.
Walking wasn’t quite as agonizing as Freddy expected, but it was damn hard. His legs didn’t want to go straight, and the lack of use had worsened his already bad coordination. The missing toes weren’t helping either, as whatever role they played in keeping balance was clearly quite impactful, judging by the impact of their absence.
For a brief instant, Freddy pondered attempting to break free of the line and trying to escape. A moment later, one such wannabe rebel broke away. A black whip flashed with red light as it cracked against the man’s skull, and he was dead on the ground a moment later.
‘There goes that plan.’
After an excruciating hour of wait, Freddy reached the end of the line. There, he was handed a set of striped orange clothes with convenient flaps and zippers, allowing him to put them on even though his hands and legs were shackled. He wasn’t provided any footwear.
Finally reaching the end of the chamber, Freddy arrived in… another large room, nearly identical in size, shape, and the light-gray stone that paved the floor, walls, and the tall ceiling, with only the windows missing. The prisoners were seated all over the floor, most chatting amicably, and the number of guards had significantly reduced.
To his surprise, Freddy was handed a sandwich and a 2l bottle of water.
Unable to restrain his incredulity, he shambled to an empty spot and sat down. A few times, he tried asking some of the prisoners what was happening, but most replied that they had no idea and then, with barely any subtlety, shifted away from him.
It wasn’t too surprising. None of the captives he had seen looked like they had been tortured, at least not much. Only God knew what went through their minds when they saw him, but it was clear that they weren’t thrilled to be seated near him. Any man who had endured this much torture must have been at least a little dangerous.
A door that he hadn’t even seen until that point opened, and a voice shouted a name from within, “James Hilfinger!”
One of the prisoners got up, walked over to the door, and stepped inside, while another walked out, seemingly in high spirits. A faint feeling of hope sparked in Freddy’s heart, but he extinguished it immediately.
He wasn’t about to believe for a second that he would be allowed to walk out of here, no strings attached, but… after seeing numerous prisoners walk in and out, most at least a bit happier than they were stepping in, with a few outliers that seemed quite frustrated, he couldn’t help but feel some trepidation.
Hope was out of the question, however. That emotion had been thoroughly stomped out of him.
Hours marched on, and the room was already stuffed full. It would probably take several days for all the prisoners to finish whatever was waiting for them on the other side, and Freddy couldn’t help but think that he would have preferred waiting in his cell. He was at least used to that.
After a while, Freddy felt quite drowsy, and to his absolute bewilderment, one of the guards walked up to him and offered him a cup of coffee. It was a plastic cup filled with, judging by the smell, crappy instant coffee, but it was so much more than he had been expecting to receive that he couldn’t help but grow suspicious.
But… as soon as he denied the offer, the guard merely nodded and walked away, offering it to another prisoner who accepted it. Freddy kept a close eye on the woman who took the cup, but even after several hours, there was no indication that the coffee had any adverse effects.
It was difficult to tell, though, given that she was clearly distressed by his staring. Did Freddy really look that terrible?
Just as his thoughts wandered, he finally heard it.
“Freddy Stern!” A woman yelled, and he got up.
Many glanced at him like they did at anyone else who got up, but these gazes lingered considerably longer. Whispers spread through the room immediately.
As soon as he walked into the room, the cuffs on his wrists were removed, and he was allowed to step into what appeared to be a perfectly ordinary office space.
Two guards stood at the entrance, and a man seated on the other end of a large desk greeted him, “Hello! My name is Stephen White,” he introduced himself cheerfully. “I’m here to help you fulfill your commitments to the Kraven clan.”
It was a formally dressed, slightly chubby middle-aged man with slight signs of balding appearing on his hairline and a pleasant face with thick stubble along his fat-padded jaw.
Although he appeared quite polite, there was something about him that Freddy instantly disliked. His demeanor reminded him too much of his old manager.
“First, take a seat,” the man offered, and Freddy complied, getting comfortable in the soft office chair.
The man handed him a pre-prepared piece of paper, and he glanced at it, frowning. It was a statement claiming that he owed Kraven Inc. a staggering $13,321,739.
Before Freddy could say anything, the man lifted a hand. “Please wait, Mr. Stern.”
There was nothing to elaborate. As this did not go through a court, it was clearly not a legally binding document. But that didn’t really matter. Because this whole situation was bullshit.
The man pointed at the paper as if he could read Freddy’s expression. “That isn’t just a paper with some numbers on it. That is an estimation of your debt based on the theft of Kraven property, limited to that amount by your status and the nature of your offense.”
The only thing preventing Freddy from gritting his teeth was that they had almost entirely rotted away. So this would be his fate in the end. They had slapped an arbitrarily large debt on him and were about to force him into slave labor until he ‘paid it off.’
He was confident that the debt would be impossible to repay for one reason or another, and if he did succeed, he’d likely ‘die in an accident.’
“Mr. Stern,” the man said as he snapped his fingers in front of Freddy's face and then continued, “Do not be discouraged. While this number might seem impossible to tackle, that is precisely why I’m here,” he declared proudly. “Through a partnership with the Kraven clan and their corporation, I am acting as their official debt repayment manager. I believe the best choice for you would be to join the mining expedition on Faralethal.”
“The what?” Freddy said, wincing at how weird how weird his voice sounded. The lack of teeth in his mouth left him with a lisp, and his tongue had a bit too much freedom to flop around.
“A mining expedition,” the man repeated himself.
“No, I mean… what is Faralethal?” Freddy asked.
“Oh!” The man realized after a second. “I apologize. Yes, you aren’t the first captive to not know. Faralethal is the name of the passage realm C-000421. You might be more familiar with that term.”
Freddy was momentarily stunned by the irony. The passage realm he had discovered would now be where he would be sent into slave labor. So much for stardom and being written into history as the man who discovered it.
“Now,” the man said, interrupting Freddy’s thoughts again. “As I said, your debt isn’t as large a concern as you might believe. The mining expedition is a highly lucrative business; by my estimates, it could take you ten or even as few as five years to pay off your debt!”
Now that was some grade-A bullshit. Thirteen million in five years? This man must seriously be taking Freddy for an idiot.
“I know this sounds surprising, but believe me when I say that that money will not come easy,” the man said, a glint of severity appearing in his tone. “The mining expedition is frighteningly dangerous, and the death rate is staggering. We cannot and will not force you into participating if you do not wish. This is the fastest way for you to repay the debt and the job I was instructed to offer to every captive, but it is far from your only option.”
The man then quickly listed a lengthy collection of possible jobs Freddy could do to repay the debt. All of them were factory work. And they all had ridiculously long debt-repayment periods, averaging well over a hundred years of labor.
It was clear that these offers were presented to make the mining expedition appear more palatable, but Freddy had other plans.
“This job here,” he pointed at an offering. “Gutting fish in a factory. I think I’d like to do this.”
Sure, it would take him 170 years to repay his debt through this job, but that was no big deal to Freddy. If anything, it gave him 170 years to form and execute a proper plan. That wasn’t even factoring in his talent.
The man’s eye subtly twitched at that, and he suddenly looked deep in thought. “Actually,” Stephen said, “I just realized something.”
Freddy felt a prickle at the back of his head and a strong desire to punch the man in his nose as he had a solid premonition of what he was about to hear.
“Most— no, all of these factories would run a general health test before allowing you to work there.” Then, with a glance at Freddy’s numerous scars and his missing finger, he added, “No offense, but I believe you stand no chance of passing them.”
‘I could pass them with flying colors given a few days in the woods,’ was what Freddy thought, but he was forced to keep that to himself.
During his time here, he realized that the Kraven clan likely had no idea that Freddy’s talent provided him with supreme-quality healing. It wasn’t surprising, as they had nearly no reason to give any shit about some nobody one-star arch’s talent, as long as they knew it wasn’t dangerous.
1% Lifesteal hardly qualified as an eyebrow-raiser in that regard.
But if they knew that he had an endless source of supreme-quality healing? Say, for example, that they took out a kidney, a lung, a piece of his liver, and whatever else they could pluck from his body without killing him. Then, say he was forced to cut grass until he recovered all those organs.
It didn’t take a genius to realize that such an asset could hardly walk away, even after ‘repaying the debt.’ And Freddy had no desire to become a living organ farm.
So, with a hint of bitterness, Freddy was forced to swallow his words and ask, already knowing the answer to his question. “If that’s the case, can you just show me all the jobs I qualify for?”
And, as expected, the man only put aside the mining expedition. His job was clearly to push this expedition to the best of his ability.
Freddy wasn’t done taking the piss, however. “And this expedition won’t have any general health requirements?”
The man laughed at that, “Hahaha, well, as cruel as that might sound, no. It does not. But—!” He said as he segued into what would likely be a bullshit excuse. “People like you need some method to repay their debts, and this might just be the best option.”
‘Fucking called it,’ Freddy mentally high-fived himself.
“Alright, well, I’d like to run every single health exam in all of the factories.”
The man winced at that. “I’m sorry, sir, but that won’t be possible.”
“Why not?” Freddy said with a sly grin.
“Well… you can only register for one position, and if you fail to pass their test, you will be left without a job.”
“So… what happens if I am left ‘without a job?’”
The man frowned at that. “That is not up to me to decide. But given that this offer is a result of the clan cleaning up their business as they prepare to move their headquarters… I’m sure you can make the deduction yourself.”
Freddy smirked at the man. “That’s what you should have said from the start, dickwad. So It’s either the mines or a grave. I’ll take the damn mines, thank you very much.” Without much ceremony, Freddy got up and walked out of the room.
***
Freddy found himself lying in a box.
Given that the entrance into Faralethal was the roughly double-door-sized passage he had discovered, it was obvious that it would constantly be busy with archs going in and out. Naturally, this meant that getting over five hundred prisoners through wouldn’t be a cheap ordeal—unless they transported them like this, apparently.
Luckily, at least, he was alone in his container and had been provided a generous supply of water and snacks.
For the vast majority of his trip there, Freddy had spent it in the netherecho. Not only did it spare him the constant turbulence, it also allowed him to gather to his heart’s content.
He could tell when they entered the passage solely by the density of wisps that poked into his box. Freddy briefly wondered how these wisps made it in when he was in a moving object, which should, by all means, not even be actively visible in the netherecho, which yet again reminded him of the conceptual nature of the underlying layer of reality, and its stubborn refusal to follow coherent rules.
As the journey continued, Freddy’s mind wandered to one subject—Bloodshed’s arrival. Judging by what he discovered, it had been over half a year since he made his deal with the skeleton.
Freddy had no idea if he could escape this ‘mining expedition’ alive, but he knew one thing.
After several hours of what seemed to be quite a turbulent flight, they reached their destination. The lid on his box popped open, and he was allowed to leave. As soon as he did, his breath caught in his throat.
A sky that had no sun but still shone bright midday, and a horizon that went far further in all directions than should be possible. They were currently located at the foot of an enormous mountain, one of many in a range of spiky, dark grey masses of stone that stretched far into the sky.
The growth surrounding them appeared normal at first glance, but every plant was at least slightly exotic in one way or another, and the air smelled like nothing he had ever experienced in his life.
The soil beneath his feet felt harsh, and everywhere he looked, his attention flitted from one insane sight to another; often, a flying monster would appear—and disappear too fast for Freddy to even perceive what it had been.
A collection of floating islands was located to the left of the mountains, a forest of gigantic, coiling trees to their left, a massive desert even further, and, finally, vast, golden fields to the right of the mountain.
Numerous fascinating structures teased at the edges of the horizon, but before Freddy could pay them enough attention, the man who had opened his box shoved him forward, pushing him toward the gaping entrance of an overgrown cave.
That was right. He didn’t know whether survival would be possible in this scenario. But he knew one thing—
He would do anything to make it out alive.
Comments
Kevin McKinney
I am just curious about the charade. Not sure why they didn’t just chuck him over there.
Macronomicon
It's like slavery, with extra steps.
Kevin McKinney
I kind of see what you are doing, but the transition is rough. If he was kidnapped and tortured, why the whole “job option” choice? Was he just thrown into some sort of debtors prison? I guess the world works that way, where organizations take obviously tortured people and offers them a “job”?
