Chapter 9: Unveiling Secrets

With a resigned sigh, he reached for the cup of tea and brought it to his lips, taking a sip. To his astonishment, the tea tasted infinitely better than anything he had experienced in his past life on Earth.

Anticipation welled up inside him as he waited for some kind of effect to kick in, but to his disappointment, there was no sudden rush or dizziness.

"What's your name, Junior?" The elder's gaze was fixed on Sam's pale countenance.

Sam hesitated, weighing his options. Should he divulge the name given to him by the mysterious system, or should he stick to the name from his previous life on Earth? He knew next to nothing about this new world, and revealing his system-given name might lead to unforeseen trouble.

Feelings of caution and curiosity warred within him, but he knew he had to be careful in this unfamiliar territory.

"Sam Carlson," he uttered calmly, his stoic expression revealing nothing. Standing firm, he awaited the elder's intentions, eager to gauge the wisdom that lay within.

"Carlson?" The elder scratched his head, his bushy eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Are you absolutely, positively sure you're not Sam Balaur?" The elder's eyes narrowed with a mischievous glint, contemplating the possibility of his mistake.

Sam's eyes bulged like saucers, and he started panting like he'd run a marathon in a sauna. It was as if he'd been caught trying to sneak into a clown convention disguised as Batman, and the other clowns were giving him that "Seriously, dude?" look.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵?... 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦?

Sam's jaw dropped so low, it nearly scraped the floor. He understood the system displaying his name, I mean, duh, it's a system, it knows everything about you, even your deepest secrets and embarrassing moments. But this random guy knows his name too? That's some next-level creepiness!

Sam exerted considerable self-control, resisting the urge to blurt out, "You are creepy, man," right to the elder's face. Despite his unease, he managed to maintain his composure, opting for a more tactful approach to the situation

"No... I'm pretty sure my name is Sam Carlson," he asserted firmly.

"Mm..." the elder remained skeptical, giving Sam a scrutinizing look.

"Um, Elder, you mentioned something about my attire inviting trouble earlier..." Sam shifted the conversation's focus, wanting to avoid any further discussion about his name.

"Yes, I couldn't help but notice the intriguing emblem on your robe, young man. Are you aware of its significance?" the elder inquired, gesturing towards Sam's white garment.

𝘐𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘶𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘴 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘣𝘰𝘭 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘦?

Now, he found himself in a challenging situation. He had no clue about the emblem either, despite pretending to be well-informed earlier. Now, he grappled with what response to give, aware of the predicament he had put himself in.

With the child firmly within his grasp, a wry smile crept across the elder's face.

"Don't overthink it, kid. I know you're from the Balaur Clan," the elder disclosed, trying his best to avoid any air of creepiness.

"Y-You do?" Sam asked, doubtful.

"Why are you so afraid of me, kid? I haven't harmed you, have I?"

"You're a poison master. I've heard that poison masters are wicked people," Sam replied, attempting to be cautious with his words but unintentionally sounding a bit rude.

"What?" The elder let out a sigh before offering some advice to Sam. "Listen, kid, not all poison masters are malevolent, just as not all alchemists are virtuous. It all comes down to how you use your skills."

"Yes, poison masters brew poisons. And sure, poison can be lethal... it's used to take lives. Because of that, people think all poison masters are evil, but that's not the truth. I became a poison master because I had a talent for it. You see, kid, you can't cure an illness caused by poison unless you understand the type of poison that caused it." The elder paused, giving Sam a moment to grasp the meaning of his words.

𝘐𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯?

Although Sam wasn't convinced, he decided to give him a chance and hear him out before making any judgments.

"Alright, I trust you," he said.

𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧,

The air was thick with tension as Sam faced the elder, his weary eyes revealing a lifetime of mistrust. He had always struggled with trusting others, carrying deep-rooted issues from his past. There was only one person he had ever truly trusted - the one who had given him a chance as a shopkeeper in his previous life.

The elder studied Sam intently, his expression unreadable. He spoke again, his voice stern and probing, "Let me ask you again, kid. Who are you? Where do you come from? And don't bother saying 'Spiritual realm,' because I know for a fact you're not from there."

Sam let out a resigned sigh, gathering his thoughts before he responded, "I don't know."

The elder raised an eyebrow, clearly dissatisfied with the answer, "You don't know?"

Sam hesitated, then clarified, "Well, more like I don't remember anything. The only thing that remains in my mind is my name." His voice carried the weight of frustration and confusion.

𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵

The elder leaned back, considering Sam's words carefully.

"Listen, young one, judging from the distinctive robe you wear, it's safe to assume you hail from the Balaur Clan," the elder remarked with a knowing look.

Sam's heart skipped a beat as he realized this elder might hold vital information about his mysterious origins. Eager to uncover the truth, he decided to extract as much knowledge as possible from the experienced figure before him.

"Respected elder," Sam inquired respectfully, "would you be willing to enlighten me about the enigmatic Balaur Clan?"

The elder took a moment to assess Sam's genuine curiosity and nodded, acknowledging his request.

"Certainly."