Chapter 4: Decision [2]

Chapter 4: Decision [2]

'System! I will finish the tutorial!'

The System responded promptly, its robotic tone cutting through the air. "[Good. The tutorial is divided into three stages.]"

Demitas listened attentively as the System continued.

[Stage 1: Mine 100 gemstones]

[Reward: Shop unlocked]

[Stage 2: Kill…]

His mind briefly registered the task at hand, but his attention was quickly stolen by the jarring revelation of the next stage. "[Stage 2: Kill...]"

'Kill?' Demitas mused, his eyes widening in disbelief.

He stared at the screen, his eyes shifting back and forth between Stage 1 and Stage 2. The words of the latter seemed to hang in the air, heavy with a weight he couldn't ignore.

"Stage 1 is no problem," Demitas muttered to himself, trying to downplay the significance of the task. However, the daunting reality of Stage 2 loomed before him, refusing to be dismissed. "Does it really say...kill?"

With a mixture of disbelief and trepidation, he scrolled down the screen, his heart pounding in his chest. The words etched into his mind, leaving an indelible mark. "[Stage 2: Kill 2 Slaves branded as Targets.]"

A wave of nausea washed over Demitas as the gravity of the task hit him like a tidal wave. The conflicting emotions churned within him, his conscience wrestling with the moral implications of taking someone's life, even in a virtual world. The thought of ending another person's existence was almost too much to bear.

Lost in the turmoil of his thoughts, he failed to notice the reward for completing the task. His gaze remained fixated on the words that had sent shockwaves through his being. It felt as though reading them any longer would cause him to collapse under the weight of the decision he had to make.

.

.

.

As the morning sun painted the sky with hues of gold and amber, Demitas and Babyface made their way to the treacherous mines. The air was thick with anticipation and apprehension, their footsteps echoing through the dimly lit tunnels.

However, Misli, still deep in slumber, remained oblivious to the world around him. Demitas had taken it upon himself to administer a higher dosage of the painkiller herbs to his brother, hoping to grant him a respite from the tormenting pain. The result was evident in the rhythmic snoring that filled the room.

Glancing back at Misli's sleeping form, Demitas couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. He knew the burden of their circumstances weighed heavily on his brother's shoulders, both physically and emotionally. However, for the time being, it was a necessary sacrifice to ensure Misli's much-needed rest.

As they ventured deeper into the mines, the oppressive atmosphere closed in around them. The air grew thick with dust and sweat, their bodies glistening with exertion. The monotonous rhythm of pickaxes striking against stone reverberated through the tunnels, a symphony of labor and hardship.

Every step they took was a reminder of their lowly status, trapped in an endless cycle of backbreaking toil. The dim lantern glow, their only source of light, paled in comparison to the radiant splendor of the rising sun.

The mines were a harsh realm, where time seemed to stand still, and dreams faded into distant memories. Yet, Demitas refused to let the gloom consume him.

The chains clinked and clattered as they were forcefully fastened around Demitas and Babyface's wrists, the weight of the heavy iron links a constant reminder of their captivity. It was a cruel practice, designed to hinder any attempts of escape and crush their spirits further.

Days melded into nights in an unending cycle of backbreaking labor. The slaves were required to mine tirelessly, their hands calloused and bleeding from the relentless work. Their bodies ached from the strain, but there was no respite. The mine was a merciless master, demanding their sweat, blood, and tears as offerings.

On rare occasions, the slaves were subjected to the twisted whims of their captors. They were paraded like gladiators in the arena of hell, where their pain and suffering became entertainment for a bloodthirsty crowd. The cheers and jeers of the spectators echoed through the coliseum, their cries fueling the cruel spectacle.

In these gruesome battles, survival was paramount. They fought not for glory or honor, but for their very existence. The arena became a macabre stage where life hung by a thread, where the only respite from the grueling labor was the chance to face off against their fellow slaves in a desperate struggle for survival.

Demitas tightly gripped the rusty pickaxe in his hands, its worn wooden handle showing signs of countless hours of labor. He stared at the jagged walls of the mine, a glimmer of determination in his eyes. While the task seemed daunting—mining 100 gemstones—it was a challenge he was prepared to conquer.

Demitas was no ordinary slave. Despite the oppressive conditions and backbreaking labor, he possessed a hidden talent—a natural affinity for mining.

While an average person would struggle to mine 5 to 10 gemstones in a day, Demitas defied the odds. He chipped away at the stone, his hands moving with a practiced rhythm. Each strike yielded precious gems, adding to the growing pile at his feet. He surpassed the expectations of an average person, consistently mining 30 gemstones or more in a single day.

Word of Demitas' exceptional mining skills had spread among the slaves, sparking a sense of awe and admiration. They watched in amazement as he effortlessly surpassed the daily quotas, his productivity unmatched. It was as if the very essence of the mine whispered its secrets to him, guiding his every move.

Demitas swung the pickaxe with renewed vigor, the weight of the heavy tool driving him forward. This time, he had to work three times as hard as usual to meet his goal. The vein he targeted was known for its abundant gemstones, a prime opportunity he couldn't afford to miss.

As the pickaxe connected with the rugged stone, a cascade of sparks erupted, illuminating the dimly lit mine tunnel. The sound of metal striking stone echoed through the chamber, mingling with the distant rumble of fellow miners toiling away.

With each strike, Demitas felt the anticipation building within him. He knew that beyond the hardened exterior of the rock lay the hidden treasures he sought. The flickering gems embedded within the rich ore were not merely a stroke of luck to him; they were valuable pieces of information.