"What did you say?!" A Caucasian man turned sharply towards his subordinate, the surprise evident on his face as he absorbed the report. He fell into a contemplative silence, the weight of the implications settling in.
"A ship has appeared on the other side of the continent. From what we've gathered, a large group has successfully crossed to the mainland, sir!" his subordinate reiterated, oblivious to the fact that the man's mind was racing ahead to the possibilities.
"If what he says is accurate, it means my target is among them," he deduced, his mind racing with the implications. Recently, he had received a message from his leader, who was currently navigating the crossroads to the next realm.
"It seems one of my men fell on that ship. We need to discover who or what group was responsible and investigate thoroughly," ordered the plague leader, his voice firm.
"Gather the men. We must comb through the new arrivals. Any individual who seems out of place should be reported immediately," he instructed, rising from his imposing throne that provided a panoramic view of a fantastical city bustling with life—people chatting, bargaining, and going about their day.
"It will all soon come to a head. Once we test the new product, I will close the gap with the main group," he murmured, anticipation creeping into his tone.
On the deck, tension mounted as a scene unfolded between those who had just arrived and those sent to retrieve them from the waterway.
"What are you doing?!" shouted one man, confusion giving way to alarm as a rope tightened around his neck, dragging him from the water like a fish freshly caught.
"What's all this about?" Victor called out, feeling anxious as he, too, found himself bound. Mental exhaustion weighed heavily on him, and he couldn't shake the unsettling sensation that these captors were unlike any he'd encountered—strong and overwhelming. "What are those strange symbols on their bodies?" he wondered, his curiosity mingled with dread.
"There's one coming!" shouted one of the dealers, excitement bubbling as he readied his rope, watching a figure plummet into the water below. He tossed the rope the moment the figure made contact, anticipating coursing through him.
As an enormous ripple spread across the surface, he sensed something unusual and hesitated, waiting for the figure to re-emerge. Soon the water settled, revealing a shadow rising. He prepared to act, but he spotted a hand breaking through the surface.
But in an instant, everything shifted. Bam! To his utter shock, a shadow shot out of the water faster than anyone could comprehend, dragging him down into the depths before he could utter a sound.
Meanwhile, on the deck, a man with a gold tooth scowled as he awaited his men's return, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. "How long does it take to fish out a bunch of goods?" he grumbled, the air thick with the promise of impending chaos.
"You over there!" shouted Dracus, the boss dealer with an eye patch. He glared at his worker slave impatiently. "Are the ones ready to depart in good condition?"
The worker stuttered before answering, "Y-yes, sir!" He stood straight as Dracus nodded. Dracus relished having power and authority; seeing their fear was always satisfying. "I hope there are young girls among them… like that archery girl," he grumbled, recalling an unpleasant encounter from a week ago.
To quench his anger, he had visited the cage numerous times. "Haha, I'll return there tomorrow. I already want to ride them again," he thought wickedly, grinning at the idea.
"Our men are coming back!" shouted the outpost guard. Dracus's attention immediately shifted to the makeshift boats returning. "Hmm… I was told five boats left the dock. Why am I counting only four?" he asked his second-in-command.
"That's true, let me check on it," replied the second-in-command as he moved toward the approaching boats. He smiled, seeing the four boats filled with men and women. "A good harvest indeed. You! Where's the other boat?" he demanded, pointing at one of the dealers.
The dealer frowned, looking up at him. "It got dragged away by something. I don't know what it was, but I'm not planning to find out," said the dealer dismissively. This response infuriated the second-in-command, but there was little he could do about it.
The system here was complex, divided among slaves, working slaves, dealers, and slave masters.
Slave masters like Dracus were powerhouses with numerous slave workers under their control. These slave workers were used to capture other slaves. Slave dealers acted as hunting dogs, hired to catch runaway slaves or ensure the slave masters' tasks were properly executed.
No one knows who established this system, but it operated consistently throughout the region. Slaves were sold to the three tribes ruling over the continent, either as a workforce, for food, or for experimental rituals.
Ethan had an unforgettable experience in this realm. The first time he arrived with Katnese, they were captured together and brought to Dracus, where both he and Katnese suffered severe violations at the hands of Dracus and his men.
They tied him up and forced him to watch as they violated Katnese, leaving her utterly broken. It was during this traumatic event that his relationship with Katnese changed drastically, causing them to distance themselves from each other. The last time they met, she had become an enemy he was forced to confront.
Younger Ethan's hands trembled as he closed the memory book. Though he appeared calm, rage boiled within him. He looked up, focusing on the world outside.
"That's why you wanted to stay away from her; you still can't forget that moment," Ethan said, gripping the man by the neck. His eyes, as calm as the deepest abyss, stared into the man's fearful gaze.
"You couldn't forget the day you had to kill her," his younger self remarked.
"I need information," Ethan said, his voice calm and steady, yet carrying a chilling undertone that froze the man in place. "For every second you stay silent, I'll snap one of your bones." His words were devoid of emotion, but the cold menace he exuded was enough to make the man wish for a quick, painless death.
Ethan hadn't killed a human since his return—not because he lacked the ability, but because he hadn't seen the need to spill blood. But here, in this cursed realm, things were different. Here, he would unleash chaos. He would tear apart the filth that thrived in the shadows and bring justice to those who had suffered.
"My first task begins now," Ethan murmured, his eyes burning with determination and vengeance. "I will cleanse the underbelly of this continent, destroy its rot, and unite the two tribes against the Amante tribe. They will pay for what they've done."
His grip tightened on the trembling man's neck, his gaze unwavering. This wasn't just a mission—it was personal. Every step he took, every action he made, was fueled by the memory of Katnese and the horrors they endured. He would not stop until this world was purged of its darkness, no matter the cost.