Chapter 3: Simulation 1- Life is truly full of unexpectedness

[Congratulations on the purchase!]

[-25 Simulation Points]

[Congratulations! The Store has been obtained.]

[Congratulations! The Inventory has been opened.]

[A low-level soul protection card has been placed in your inventory.]

[Would you like to use it now?]

"Yes!" Siarl screamed gibberish as the black tentacles began to enter his body through his mouth. The old villager laughed as his skin disintegrated.

"There's no need for hysteria, young one! The villagers labour in the fields like ants, and even if they were here, you'd find no sanctuary!" The Villager Chief's laughter echoed ominously as he tightened his grip around Siarl's throat, choking the life out of him.

In a sudden blaze of brilliance, a searing light erupted from Siarl's mouth, igniting the obsidian tentacles that had invaded him. The flames raced through the chief's body, setting him ablaze!

"What... What's happening?" The Villager Chief was bewildered. He had never witnessed such an event. Before he could even process his thoughts, his entire soul was ablaze!

At the same time, the golden flash that started the fire on the villager chief's body began to divorce some tentacles, fusing them with Siarl's body!

In the span of heartbeats, the fiendish Villager Chief dwindled into a pitiful creature, writhing in agony!

No matter how vehemently he struggled or begged, Siarl remained unmoved. The flames refused to abate, and the tentacles extending from his soul seared the village chief's soul until it was extinguished.

Thud Siarl was finally freed from the vice-like grip of the Villager Chief, his body collapsing onto the muddied ground, gasping for precious air.

Huff Huff As Siarl sat amidst the dishevelled mud floor, he desperately sucked in lungfuls of air, replenishing his starved lungs. The aftermath of the Villager Chief's suffocation attempt had left him utterly breathless

Several minutes passed before Siarl regained his composure. He cautiously inspected the lifeless body of the Villager Chief, searching for any lingering signs of vitality.

Siarl gingerly grasped the skinless hand of the chief, pressing his fingers against the wrist, seeking a pulse that he knew he wouldn't find.

"No pulse," Siarl sighed with a mixture of relief and apprehension.

"Now I need to find the technique that the village chief was talking about!" Siarl collected himself and began scouring the villager chief's mud house.

First, he took the villager chief's gloves and wore them. After all, it was better to be cautious; what if there were ways to trace fingerprints?

Although Siarl had visited the villager chief's house many times, he remained uncertain about the existence of any hidden chambers, but Siarl didn't care about this as he continued to search the place.

***

40~50 minute later,

In front of Siarl, there were three objects: a scroll, a shiny metal piece that seemed to be made using valuable materials, and a small hand knife.

He began by examining the scroll, which, as expected, contained the coveted technique the villager chief had boasted about. But he didn't read it yet, as he had no time now.

While he didn't know what the shiny metal was for, he estimated it was something important; after all, it seemed to be made from expensive materials. As for the small hand knife, it fit all the criteria as the rumours said about a magical object, but Siarl wasn't sure, as he didn't have much information.

Siarl kept rummaging through the villager chief's house but found nothing, so he gave up and began to clear up the traces around the house.

He first arranged the objects as they were before, then he began to erase all of his traces, as he wanted the villager chief to appear dead even before he got here.

Minutes later, Siarl remarked, "Everything's in order." He surveyed the villager chief's house, restoring it to its original state as best he could, despite the imperfections of relying on memory. Nevertheless, Siarl was willing to take the risk; after all, death in this world held implications;as this was nothing but a simulation.

"Now, the only matter at hand is these gloves," Siarl contemplated, his gaze fixated on the dust-laden Villager Chief's gloves.

The sun had crept closer to the horizon, marking several hours since the tumultuous events had unfolded.

Siarl recognized the urgency of his situation. He needed to resolve matters swiftly, fabricate a plausible alibi for his whereabouts during the villager chief's demise, and if he had time left explore the Inventory and Store options in the simulator.

First, he needed to take off these gloves. The best course of action that Siarl could think of in this situation and the resources he had was to burn them and throw all the ashes of the gloves in the downstream river nearby.

As far as he knew, when a person in the village died, a member of the Church of Twilight would visit to calm the dead's spirit. Of course, if there was any anomaly or strangeness in the death, then more members of the Church of Twilight would come to check for reasons. After all, death was very serious in this world, and Siarl had often heard stories of the dead haunting as ghosts; this was the same reason why the old Sherp's family living next door was questioned so much when Sherp's father died when Siarl was 2 years old.

So this was a very serious matter, so he had to think about ways to save himself quickly.

"Life is truly full of unexpectedness," Siarl mused to himself as he set off towards the mountains behind the village. Time was of the essence, with only an hour or so before the villagers returned from the fields and his parents began to search for him.

Siarl picked up the scrolls, the shiny metal, and the small hand knife with his gloves and a few things in a bag and made his way towards the mountain. Of course, he had also planned to see what this Inventory and Store were on his way!