4 Realization

"Old man Sho! We got ya someone!" screamed Mitch in his hoarse voice. Michael could recognize the sound of stairs being climbed down as the person was being closer and closer. He looked up as he tried to unsuccessfully stop his body from release the air from his lungs once more.

However, our hero noticed that the footsteps were unnaturally loud. Even Mack with his size and body weight sounded like a cat compared to whoever was in this dome.

Before him was a pile of detritus that was shaped like a half-sphere, Michael could see that compared to the ground they were walking on, it seemed entirely made of shards of various metals, making it a multi-coloured ball of metal with an opening on the front.

The opening was closed of by a singular panel of steel that probably served as a door. Michael had also noticed earlier that they had gone down in the ground and that there was a roof of metal over their head. The smell wasn't as bad as before, but it was still heavily noticeable.

The door was slowly opened and revealed a very tall man. He looked older than anyone he had seen before, which was Mitch and Mack, with wrinkles all around his face. He had no beard and had black hair cut close to his scalp.

The things that attracted Michael's gaze however, were the scars on his face. Two linear scars crossing on his forehead that went over both of his eyes, which were perpetually closed.

The old man named Sho, wearing a surprisingly clean purple yukata, walked towards Michael slowly and hesitantly as he used a wooden stick to scout the surroundings. The wooden geta he had were apparently sturdy enough to easily crush the spikes of metal sticking out of the ground.

At the same time, Sho expertly dodged all the holes in the floor and the spots where murky water could be seen flowing, green viscous liquid or even softer materials.

The young boy then felt weird about the way the man looking at him straight in the eyes without even opening his. He was about to ask how he was able to see without opening his eyes, but his coughs interrupted him. Knowing what was the question on his tongue, Mitch answered it.

"Old man Sho here is blind but he like, can somehow still see!" boisterously declared the thin man. Sho shifted his 'gaze' to him instead for a second and nodded before continuing the conversation, "This boy right here isn't used to the illnesses flying through the air of this island. I'll give him the usual…"

Sho then walked back into what was supposed to be his house to retrieve what was needed to stop Michael's pain.

After a while, Michael hectic coughing started to turn dangerous. Blood was seeping out of his mouth and the pain grew worse with each time air was expelled from his body, 'Still nothing like how painful it was before I... huh?'

His realization that somehow a part of his memories went missing was stopped by Sho forcing pills and a green paste into his throat. "That should do the trick" grumbled the old man before returning to his house.

"By the way…" continued Sho, "If that isn't enough and he somehow becomes sick again, bring him back to me, not to that shill of a doctor from the 4th."

At his words, a subtle pressure was released from his seemingly powerless body. It was at this time that Michael realized that the old man in front of him was nearing the height of the man he dubbed as a giant, Mack. He also had powerful muscles, shown by his rolled up sleeves and the chest opening of his yukata.

Michael felt like the world had hid a dangerous predator in plain sight. He shivered and by the reactions of the ones that carried him here, he wasn't the only one realizing how powerful Sho really was.

"Y-you know it was like, just an error old man Sho!" gulped Mitch, suddenly losing his accent, but apparently still putting 'like' in every sentence, "Don't worry!" he continued, offering a trembling smile to the beast standing in front of him, "I'll make sure to like, verify who is the like, next doctor!"

"That isn't what I asked, Mitch." The pressure, which Michael already thought was oppressive, suddenly became overwhelming. Mitch became pale and Mack narrowed his eyes at Sho. He was less affected than his smaller friend, but his trembling legs couldn't be hidden.

"Of course! Of course… I'll make sure that you're the one I come to Sho-san!" complied Match, his knees straining under the gaze of the towering healer.

"N-now… I need to like, bring the youngin to the meeting hall… to get, to get him like, the basics of the island!" said Mitch as he started to carefully retreat.

The pressure dropped, leaving a very cold atmosphere, and Sho sighed, "Sure, he will need to know how things work around here in order to survive, go."

The duo didn't hesitate any longer, they picked up Michael that they had dropped earlier in order to let Sho administer whatever was needed for him to survive. they turned around and walked as fast as they could without running as sweat ran down their cheeks. Which made for an interesting sight for Mitch as his cranial structure made it so the sweat running down from his right side was basically a waterfall, as the curvature of his head was too big to allow the droplets to run down his right side. Instead, they accumulated at the edge and dropped down on his crooked shin.

That was the last observation of Michael as the tension that was in his body generated by the aura of Sho left him and allowed the pills to finally kick in, his eyes drooped and his consciousness left him slowly.

#####

Mitch shaking his body up and down when they neared the meeting hall on the D-layer of the island was enough to wake Michael up. The thin individual then proceeded to drop him on the dirty ground without hesitation. He looked at him with disgust in his eyes before grunting and walked straight towards the door.

Confused by the sudden difference in treatment, Michael still knew that he was supposed to follow him. As he walked behind Mitch and Mack, he looked around to see the surroundings. Things were different than the highest level of the island. The smell was nearly completely gone, instead, the layer was flooded by the scent of various aromatics to hide the scent of garbage.

While that method worked, the amount of artificial aromatics used to cover up was as nauseous as the original smell itself. Still, Michael felt that it was slightly better than before, even though he gagged a bit as his nose caught up with the environment.

The D-layer was a proper city, if multiple steel and mud dome-shaped houses could form one. With the exception of some shop stands here and there, probably to have a proper market, everything looked the same around here. The Meeting hall itself was just a huge dome in the center of the D-layer. It was where decisions for the D-layer were taken, with the representatives of each part of the city meeting together each week in order to guide the city. The D-layer was the most populated layer, with the A and B-layers reserved for nobles and the C-layer being the food production layer.

The D-layer was composed of 7 areas, each arbitrarily chosen, but over the years being segregated by income as some areas simply did better than others. The 4th area that Sho mentioned earlier actually being the most dangerous, as it was the playground of gangs and criminals.

Michael entered the meeting hall right after Mitch and Mack. The entrance door was actually more than big enough for Mack to not need to bend over in order to fit in. The young boy was mesmerized by the interior of the giant meeting hall. The walls were covered with cogs that worked non-stop. Steam was often being released in the air, probably powering machines that Michael could not see.

A purple liquid was seen in tubes everywhere that made Michael wondered what was going on here. The overall feeling he got from the interior was that this island somehow was working on a steampunk model. As his brother was actually a fan of the genre, he was a bit knowledgeable about the style of a fantasy like this. Michael was excited at the thought of being sent in a world that his brother would have loved to be in.

Then he realized that he didn't know if he would be able to see his brother again. The thought killed all of his excitement as he had to hold back his tears. the view didn't seem to be so enchanting anymore and any interest he could have had about the workings of such a city disappeared.

Still, he wondered if he would be able to buy himself one of those cool-looking clocks on the wall. For 12-years, he lived to the sound of an old mechanical clock, and the numerous examples stuck on the walls reminded him of his now past life. The ticking of those clocks comforted him, even among the cacophony of the people talking and the machine working inside the meeting hall.

Michael smiled bitterly as he continued to walk behind Mitch.

He soon stood in front of a tall metal counter. He observed the purple liquid going in and out of tubes as he was too small to properly greet the receptionist that was talking to Mitch. She then bent over the counter to look at him, ignoring the wolf-whistle Mitch gave her.

She was young and beautiful, with long red locks cascading her back, but that face of hers had scars ruining her left side. She sported a mechanical eye, replacing her left one, that had cogs streaming down to her neck, where a container, filled with the same purple liquid that was everywhere, was located. The mechanical eye zooming on him crept out Michael, but he didn't let that show.

The woman smirked at his obviously false bravado, before tossing him a relatively thin book. The book was entitled 'The basics of Trash Valley'. Michael raised his eyebrow at the name and decided to ask, "I-is Trash Valley the… name of this city?"

The receptionist laughed at his words and leaned towards him, "I mean, if ya want to call this shit-hole a city, then sure! The name's Trash Valley, though… it's more of an island."

Michael gulped as he was unnerved by the look the woman was giving him. She easily noticed his tension as she tapped her finger on the counter and observed him with a dangerous smirk. Mitch, who was busy until now staring at her cleavage and how her bending over the counter shaped it, coughed to get her attention and whispered into her ears.

While Michael was a bit put off by the voice of the receptionist since he didn't really pay attention to their conversation before she talked him, he was curious about what they were talking about in a hushed tone in front of him. Even though his brother told him that it was a bad habit to eavesdrop on people, he could never get rid of it.

"Don't think I don't like, see how much ya want him…" whispered Mitch to the receptionist. She responded by giving him a pointed look and narrow eyes, but motioned to him to continue, "He's like, new here… He don't know nothing about what's going on here so…"

She gave him a vulpine grin and answered, "1200, nothing more." Mitch frowned and argued, "He's not like, touched yet, so 1500."

"But... he doesn't even have a registration plate as a slave yet, so that means that I'm going to have to pay that. 1400"

"1350 and I've never seen him." The receptionist paused for a second before accepting the offer. Meanwhile Michael had to mentally stop himself from trembling as he kept his widening eyes on the book that he was offered, not daring to look up as he tried to process what he just heard.

Being given a minimum of world history by his brother, he was knowledgeable enough to understand what being a slave meant. He was paralyzed by fear and didn't know what to do. Suddenly he was grabbed by the shoulder and his body froze. He forced himself to calm down a bit in order to put up a facade and looked up to see the moon-like face of Mitch.

Mitch gave him a comforting and bright smile that could have fooled him 10 minutes ago, "C'mon youngin, gotta like, bring ya back to home."

'I'm in trouble.'