Hardships

MISSING:

Catalogue Entry 300001 - CHAOS RING

HIGH-RISK ARTIFACT (HRA)

CLASSIFICATION: CALAMITY

HAZARD RATING: 10/10

••••••••

'Scrap!'

Flynn panted, shoving the shovel through the dirt. Seven hours in, and his back ached from the relentless work. Sweat dripped from his brow as he wiped it away, gazing at the foggy streets, then the sky. 12 PM already.

"Curses!" he muttered, frustration boiling over. "How long must I dig?"

Mr. Baggins had assigned him this grueling task, warning it would be tougher than usual. And he wasn't wrong. The muddy water channel seemed endless, with thirty others toiling alongside him, the work seemed to proceed much better. Those who were digging had a shared hope; find something valuable amidst the dirt. That which might never come true.

The meager pay consisted of stale bread and water, barely enough to sustain them as they worked. But, apart from the dirts and the rusted tools rushed, Flynn's primary concern wasn't death, but infection from a single misplaced scratch.

As he dug, the channel stretching beneath the bridge, his eyes watched the other digging as well, and then, the channel reaching..... Neverland.

Soon, fatigue overwhelmed him. He glanced around cautiously, ensuring no one watched. Secluded under the bridge, he sat on the stony ground, releasing a deep sigh.

He stretched out, observing the others digging fervently, as if their lives depended on it. Flynn knew Bimpky would have matched their zeal.

Running his fingers through his hair, he reflected on his circumstances. This place was tougher than anticipated.

This morning's harsh realities had shocked him. No running water for bathing, and when he asked Bart about toothbrushing, he got, "Toothbrush? You Rich?." As a reply. It was then, he realized that a clean cloth would be used for 'Cleaning' the tooth, then some charcoal or ash... You know, for whitening. Then, at the end, some alcohol or whiskey or maybe ale for rinsing.

When he noticed the 'steps of brushing,' He cried.

Now, after hours of digging, he reeked worse than the muddy water.

Resting his head against the wall, he realized the harsh truth. Whitechapel, as Bart called it, was cursed by poverty. Upon arrival, Flynn had witnessed streets filled with emaciated children, their bones visible. With the pouch in his pocket, He gave five shillings each to some, from the hundred shillings the mysterious man provided. Though the children suspected theft, they took it for bread.

Now, his gaze wandered, haunted by the town's struggles:

Homeless children scavenging for scraps

Prostitution rampant, women trading dignity for survival; They used what they had to get what they need.

But, above all. What he actually was confused about was the Ring.

He unwrapped some pieces of cloth around his palm, serving as a makeshift glove, revealing the ominous symbol. Bringing his finger closer, he scrutinized the Ring.

Last night he knew what he saw: The skull's jaw seemed to snap shut, echoing in his mind: "Host Acquired."

Flynn wondered, "Is this some sort of curse or parasite?." He again brought it closer, "Definitely not like those web novel systems... I'm sure it's a blood draining bug, because what the heck is 'Host Acquired?.'"

His thoughts were shattered by a gruff voice. "Hey, Bimpky!"

Flynn's eyes rolled in annoyance, as he looked up to see the familiar faces of the Digger boys who had attacked him earlier.

Flynn faced the leader, Two-tooth, the leader of the Digger boys gang. The twenty-five-year-old's dirty, dusty black hair got his weathered face, his nickname earned from the missing front teeth.

"What?" Flynn asked.

Two-tooth sneered, "You think you can hide eh?Bimpky—!"

Before he finished, Flynn stood up and walked away, dismissing the confrontation.

"He's off!" one of the digger boys exclaimed.

Flynn's stride halted as Two-tooth shouted, "You think yur above us? I challenge you to a dare, Bimpky!."

Flynn turned, intrigued. "A dare, you say?"

Two-tooth grinned, "Oi, knew you'd be up fer a good ol' game, Bimpky! Whatcha say, mate?"

Flynn raised an eyebrow. "What's the deal?"

Two-tooth's smile widened. "Let's see how long ya can endure in the dark, eh? No candles, no moonlight. Just ya and the blackness."

Flynn's expression darkened. Memories from Bimpky's past resurfaced – the crippling fear of darkness, the need for moonlight to sleep. He had this phobia from a trauma in his clouded past and now, The Digger boys' challenge exploited his, no, Bimpky's deepest phobia.

Flynn shrugged. "Sure thing. Where's the location, then?"

Two-tooth's eyes sparkled. "Blimey, Bimpky's got guts! Alrigh', let's see 'ow you fare at St. Mary's Hospital, eh?"

Flynn raised an eyebrow. "Sounds good. What's the time, mate?"

Two-tooth exchanged skeptical glances with his mates. "You sure you're up fer this, Bimpky?"

Flynn repeated, firm, "What's the time?"

"11:50pm!" Two-tooth replied, eyeing Flynn's confidence.

Flynn nodded, shouldering his shovel. "I'll be there."

As he walked away, the Digger boys whispered among themselves:

"Blimey, Bimpky's changed, 'e 'as!"

"'E must be bloomin' mad!"

"Wait 'n' see, mate. St. Mary's'll sort 'im out."

Seeing how the others reacted, Two-tooth's face reddened with rage. "Anyone who loses becomes the other's slave! You can't run outta the hospital, or ye'll forfeit!"

Flynn nodded again, needing to leave their shenanigans.

With a snarl, Two-tooth hurled a large stone at Flynn. As he threw it.... Time seemed to slow. Then, Flynn's hands shot up, catching the stone mid-air.

The Digger boys' jaws dropped in unison.

Flynn's eyes widened, mirroring their shock. "I'm as surprised as you are."

He hadn't consciously moved; his body had reacted instinctively to the threat.

The Digger boys refused to close their dropped jaw, so, he dropped the stone, waved, and said, "See you by 11:59." He walked away, disappearing into the distance. Leaving them with unanswered questions as well as unclosed jaws.

Once out of sight, Flynn raised his finger, eyes fixed on the Ring. When he suddenly had 'Fast Reflexes' He felt it coming from the Ring.

His eyes fixed on it, when suddenly The monotone voice returned:

[FEED ME! HUNGER LEVEL: 89%].