UNLOCK: I CAN SEE MY STATS

chapter 21 : ... the Beginning

On deck, a young man lay on his back, arms folded behind his head and eyes closed, surrendering to the rocking of the waves that felt almost like a lullaby.

Suddenly...

"Haah!!"

He gasped and shot upright, chest heaving violently as cold sweat slid down his temple despite the mild sea breeze.

His ash-gray eyes flew wide open, a brief flicker of terror flashing through them before quickly dying out.

He looked around, saw the blue sky, the sparkling sea, heard the cries of seagulls, he was still here, on their boat. No violet lightning, no blood, no screams.

“What’s wrong, son? Everything alright?” asked his father, Darnell, who was busy arranging the basket full of fish, having noticed Marcus’s sudden distress.

Marcus swallowed hard, forcing down the shiver in his chest, then managed a faint smile and replied,

“It’s nothing, Dad… just a weird dream.”

But inside, he frowned darkly.

“Weird? No… it was horrifically real.”

....

At the edge of the small wooden boat, the teenage boy stared into the water with a troubled expression, eyes fixed on the surface, lost in thought about the dream that wouldn’t leave his mind. He sighed and shrugged off the feeling, then turned around.

“Dad! Let’s head back… I’ve got that bad feeling again.”

The older man, his rough black beard speckled with gray, was busy securing the full basket. He lifted his head and chuckled lightly.

“Heh! Really now, I wish I had that sixth sense you and your mother both seem to have…” he said with a mock bitterness and envy, before finishing with the basket and standing upright.

He sighed, then spoke more seriously, “Alright Marcus, that’s enough for today. Let’s get out of here before we attract a sea beast or worse…”

Father and son adjusted the sails and began rowing back toward the village.

“Hmm! What a massive ship…” Marcus said excitedly, eyes locked on the lavish vessel appearing on the horizon.

“Really?…” Darnell stopped rowing, turned, and stared hard at the ship. But as soon as he made out the flag fluttering atop it, his face drained of color and sweat beaded on his brow.

“Marcus! Quickly, help me row! We have to get away from that ship now…”

“What? Why…?” Marcus asked in confusion, unaware of how his father’s expression had darkened.

“Quiet and row! Now!” Darnell snapped sharply, his voice deadly serious.

Marcus instantly grabbed an oar, sensing the danger in his father’s tone, and began rowing with him.

“Damn it, why today of all days does one of the Promised have to pass by…” Darnell muttered under his breath as he dug hard into the water.

He had spent time in the deeper sea once and had seen things the people of the Open Sea couldn’t even imagine in their worst nightmares.

He’d seen how the Promised treated people like animals, sold, whipped, or crushed for entertainment. He knew that falling into their hands was worse than death. Worse still, he was with his son, and they were close to the village.

“Please don’t see us… please don’t see us…” he kept repeating silently, like a desperate prayer.

" Promised…?"

Marcus thought grimly, recalling his mother’s old warnings when she used to read the newspaper with a trembling voice.

On the luxurious ship…

Duke Zenmar lounged in a grand chair adorned with gold and gems.

He wore a black coat and a strange black hat. His skin was unnaturally pale, and his upper lip twitched slightly whenever he was bored, as if the very act of existing annoyed him.

Before him knelt a thin man bound in chains, blood streaking his battered body.

“What’s wrong? Why’ve you stopped screaming? Lost your spirit?” Zenmar asked coldly, then pressed his fine boot into the man’s wounds, drawing only a faint whimper.

“Tch! Boring…” Zenmar kicked the slave, whose eyes were already void of life.

He was about to order another from below deck when a man in formal black approached, whispering into the ear of an attendant, who then turned to the duke.

“Hmm? What is it?” Zenmar asked flatly, already tired of the torture.

“My lord, we’ve spotted a small sailboat nearby,” the man reported crisply.

Zenmar’s smile widened, an evil glint lighting up his eyes.

“…Sink it.”

He said it without the slightest hesitation, then climbed atop the slave’s back, riding him like a beast to the edge of the ship so he could watch the bombardment.

One of the soldiers in black suits aimed the cannon at Marcus and Darnell’s boat and fired without a second thought, he was used to these things.

For Zenmar, this wasn’t real malice; it was mere passing amusement. Bombarding a boat in open water wouldn’t go on any report, and no one would ask questions. It was a new game on a dull day.

Marcus suddenly felt a sense of impending doom unlike anything before. He whipped his head around.

“Dad…!”

He shouted in fright, pointing at the incoming cannonball.

Darnell turned, and the moment he saw the black dot growing rapidly toward them, he clenched his teeth and with all his strength, kicked Marcus off the boat.

BOOM!!

Before he could jump himself, the cannonball struck, obliterating the boat, scattering it into the sea. Nothing remained of the father but a last desperate wish to save his son.

Marcus plunged into the water, everything around him swallowed by silence and darkness. Just before losing consciousness, he caught sight of his father sinking far away.

---

“…Wake up… ~”

He opened his eyes to an unfamiliar place. No blue sky. No light. Just a cracked wooden ceiling and a chain dangling from iron above.

His body was sore, drenched, eyes heavy, but he was alive.

He lay on a cold metal floor, echoes of water dripping around him. Lifting his head slowly, he found iron bars enclosing him on all sides. A cage.

In the far corner of the cage lay a small boy, face bruised, behind him rows of other cages filled with silent people, watching with hollow eyes.

He tried to stand, staggered, and slammed into the wall.

“Rest up… you’ve just arrived in hell,” came a pale man’s voice from the next cage.

Marcus looked at him slowly, frowning, then muttered hoarsely, “Where… am I?”

“You’re a slave now, boy. Aboard a ship of one of the Promised… Duke Zenmar.”

Marcus fell silent, froze for a moment, then breathed under his breath:

“Promised… Zenmar…”

“You survived the bombardment, by the grace of whatever gods still listen, but now you’re in a different kind of hell…” the man sighed and leaned back against the cold bars.

“Take my advice, kid… don’t anger him. It’ll only get your relatives killed if you have any left… and don’t resist or scream, he loves resistance…” the man shuddered at the last word.

Marcus ignored him and scanned the place with dead eyes. He saw dried blood on the floor, scraps of rotten food, and the reek of mold everywhere. The cage was narrow, iron edges eaten by rust.

He bowed his head in despair, swallowed hard, then whispered bitterly to himself,

“Dad…” remembering the last scene before he blacked out. There was a faint hope his father might be among these slaves, but he hadn’t seen him here.

“Hey, you…” Marcus rasped, throat dry.

“What is it, boy…? Call me Rain… after all, we’re on the same damned boat.”

Marcus waited for Rain’s eyes to meet his, then asked,

“Sir Rain, are there… other places, I mean other cages on this ship?”

“Sir Rain, huh? I like the sound of that… lucky for you, no. All the wretches are here. There were even sadder souls, dogs of the Promised took them just before you woke up…”

“Even a heartless bastard like me almost cracked at those tears…” Rain murmured sadly.

His words sank like stones in Marcus’s chest, snuffing out the last fragile hope. Clearly, the slave currently serving Zenmar wasn’t his father.

“Dad… are you really dead…” Marcus thought, hugging his knees to hide his tears.

No answer came but the creak of the sea against the hull.

Three days passed. Old wounds still ached, and his head spun whenever he tried to stand.

Even Rain, who used to talk endlessly, had been taken by the Promised’s men the night before, leaving behind a dead, suffocating silence.

No one spoke to him, and he couldn’t bring himself to think. His body was exhausted, and his spirit more so.

He rested his head on his hand and drifted into sleep to escape his pain and hunger. While everyone else slept, the ship suddenly shuddered violently.

A massive explosion roared, followed by screams and running overhead. The entire ship rattled.

Marcus’s eyes flew open in shock at the shouting and the groaning timbers, stunned as he looked upward…