The meaning I Decided

…

This has to be a joke.

After everything I went through…

…After somehow coming back to life—though I have no idea how…

…After finally being given a second chance to find meaning in life... I became a slave?—And not just any slave, but the slave of a Tenryuubito—the most despicable filth humanity has to offer, and someone who should be completely fictional on top of that?

…

How the hell did this happen?

How did I, a real person with real memories of the real world, end up here? A world created by some Japanese author with a fetish for convoluted foreshadowing?

And as a slave, no less?

Of a Tenryuubito of all things?!

... Fricking hell.

Was this supposed to be some kind of punishment for wanting a second chance?

Was it really that unreasonable to ask for another shot at life?

Fuck God, or Fate, or whatever divine prick thought this would be a funny way to screw me over!

"Hey, man. We need to go. Master's calling for us again."

"…What? Again? Can't that pig walk on his own?"

—It's what I wanted to say. But instead, I clenched my fists, took a deep breath, and just nodded with a frustrated sigh.

"I know."

With that, I stood and followed the other slave. Once again, I was off to carry that grotesque excuse of a creature—a being biologically human, yet far from deserving the title.

-Sigh…-

A full day had passed since I woke up alive when I should have been dead.

After I got shut down like a fucking animal when I had been utterly confused about my whereabouts when I saw myself alive again, I was unconscious for a few minutes before I woke up in the mansion of the Tenryuubito guy.

There, I received tons of kicks, whips, and insults, before I was finally released and locked down with all the other slaves. 

Apparently, all of it was a lesson—a really painful lecture on what happens when one "fails" at their singular purpose, which in my case was to carry my "Master".

It was humiliating.

It was degrading.

But it was now my reality.

And hey, if I didn't want to waste this new life that had somehow been given to me, I guess I was gonna have to put with it for now.

Though, honestly, at this point, death was starting to sound like the better option.

I know I said I wanted to live again… But you know… I've got standards.

Yes, I said I wanted to live again. But I've got standards.

Living as a slave? That's a bit much.

Living as the slave of a Tenryuubito? That's just downright unbearable.

Imagine a spoiled psychopathic child, given infinite power and zero accountability. That's a Tenryuubito in a nutshell. To them, everyone outside their lineage is nothing more than an object—born to serve, die, and be discarded.

And the worst part? The entire world encourages their behavior.

Like, the guy can be the most useless, weak, smelly, fatass, asshole that you may have met in your life, but as long as they bear the title of Tenryuubito, they're untouchable.

And in case someone as much as lays a hand on one of them, the world's strongest forces—Admirals and all—are sent to obliterate the offender into dust.

Escape? Forget it.

From what I remember the Tenryuubito live atop a massive ring-like landmass that spans the globe, elevated hundreds, if not thousands, of meters above sea level.

Unless you manage to sneak onto one of their highly-guarded elevators to get to sea level, you're trapped.

… Unless you wanted to fall for hundreds of meters to meet your end at the bottom, that is.

Of course, that is all assuming you can even escape being a prisoner.

Considering that the Tenryuubitos are watched 24/7 by superhumans that can crush the skull of a person like me in a second, the chances of escaping are even more minimal. 

Add to that the bomb collar strapped around my neck, which will turn me into fireworks as soon as they detect me breaking the chains that bind me.

The only real way out would be sheer strength. Strength enough to break through the chains, fight off the guards, and survive the fallout.

But this body? It wasn't secretly superhuman.

No, it was just strong enough to carry that oversized bastard on my back day after day.

So yeah… you can imagine just how utterly screwed I am.

I could do nothing except comply with the fatso. That is, unless I chose death.

But I had wished so desperately for a second chance during my final moments.

And now that I had it, I wasn't about to throw it away. Not this time.

Despite the horrors of my current situation, I held onto one thing I'd learned through all my struggles in the Trials: the power of patience.

Even if it took years, I would find my opportunity to escape.

And when that moment came, I would carve out my own meaning for life—one I would follow to the very end.

"Hey, are you coming or not?" My fellow slave's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked at him briefly, then nodded.

"Yeah. Let's go."

Together, we left the basement that served as our prison and prepared for yet another day devoid of freedom.

…

°

°

°

|A year later…|

…

"Hurry up, slave! Father is waiting."

-Thud!-

"..."

The sharp kick landed hard, but the man carrying the Tenryuubito didn't so much as grunt. Instead, he quickened his pace, his face devoid of emotion, like a machine doing its task.

"Hahaha! That's it. Go faster, faster!"

And yet, the Tenryuubito wasn't satisfied. He continued kicking his "seat," reveling in his petty power trip. The slave, still silent, obeyed.

After a grueling walk, the entourage arrived at a mansion so grand it dwarfed even the castles of powerful kings. They entered what resembled a throne room, where another Tenryuubito sat atop a massive, four-meter-tall slave.

The seated man was grotesque—bloated with fat, his blond hair styled into absurd curls that extended outward like an asterisk. A long, meticulously groomed mustache curled up to his ears, completing the image of overindulgence.

"Father, I have arrived," Hubert—the master of the group—spoke impatiently. "What is it that you called me for?"

The older Tenryuubito sneered, flicking a whip to command his slaves forward.

"Hubert, my son. I heard you've been breaking all the toys I bought you. So, I've brought you some more."

Hearing this, Hubert's face lit up with glee. He kicked the slave beneath him. indicating him to move.

"Thank you, Father! I've been needing new slaves. Most of the ones I had were collapsing under the weight of my belongings. I would've shot them all, but then I wouldn't have had anyone left. Aren't you proud of my restraint?"

The older man snorted. "Hmph. Restraint or laziness, you still inconvenience me. I loathe visiting the commoners' lands. So, as punishment for making me go, I won't buy you any new slaves for the next two months. Endure with these."

"Again!? B–but father!"

"No arguments! Now leave. I've found myself a new wife and intend to enjoy myself for a bit."

"Urgh… Fine."

Kicking his human seat again, Hubert commanded him to move, leading the group of old and new slaves out of the mansion. Once they were far enough from the estate, Hubert clicked his tongue in frustration and began beating his carrier.

"Stupid old man! Two months without new slaves? How does he expect me to last that long?! The nerve!"

The slave endured the blows in silence, as he always did. Hubert's tantrum ended quickly, though, as his fury was soon replaced by exhaustion.

"Huff... Keep moving," Hubert grumbled.

But before the carrier could take another step—

"Ah!"

-Thud-

A young girl—one of the new slaves—collapsed under the weight of the souvenirs she'd been tasked to carry, spilling everything onto the ground.

She was gaunt, skeletal, and barely able to stand, so it was no wonder she had collapsed despite her desperate efforts to not do so.

"You..." Hubert turned, his face contorted in rage, and without a second thought, pulled out a revolver from his coat. "...Two months might be a long time, but I can manage without you. Useless stuff should be thrown away immediately."

He then pointed the gun at her, disgust curling his lip.

However, just as he was about to pull the trigger—

"Enough."

"H-huh?!"

-Thud!-

Hubert stumbled as his human seat suddenly bucked, throwing him off balance and onto the ground.

"Y-you, seat, what are you doing?!!" Hubert sputtered, eyes bulging in disbelief as he stared at the slave who had been acting as his seat until now.

The slave stood there, unmoving, his face cold and expressionless, causing Hubert to be greatly surprised when catching sight of him.

And how could he not? The seat that had been carrying him for an entire year until now, always silent no matter the punishment he received, had actually broken his silence.

However, despite his initial shock, Hubert's arrogance soon led him to disregard his surprise aside and replace it with pure ire and indignation.

Without a second thought, Hubert snarled, raising his gun. "I'll just get a new seat!"

And immediately after that—

-Bang!!-

—He shot the man.

-Thunk!-

The gunshot echoed through the air, and the slave fell lifelessly to the ground.

However, to his distaste, not even after being shot did the man let out a single sound of pain.

Nevertheless, once he made sure the man died, Hubert scoffed and turned around, this time pointing his gun at the little girl.

"As I was saying—"

-Ka–chin!!!-

However, before he could even finish speaking, the loud sound of metal snapping interrupted his speech. He turned slowly to see the "dead" slave standing, chains broken, the steel cuffs hanging limply from his wrists.

"You—!"

"Too late."

Before Hubert could even try to take another shot, he man lunged forward, grabbing Hubert in a crushing embrace.

"Unhand me!" Hubert shrieked, struggling with all his might. But he quickly realized that his efforts were futile. The slave didn't budge an inch.

Hubert reached for his gun, but the man's hold tightened, immobilizing him and preventing him from trying anything.

And then Hubert heard it—a familiar sound that made his struggle pause for a second, almost as if something within him was telling him that sound was dangerous.

-Tick, tack, tick, tack…-

As Hubert struggled to recall the ticking sound's origin, the man who had been his seat for three years suddenly broke into a wide, mocking grin, letting out a sinister giggle.

"Hey, you know…" the man began, his voice steady yet dripping with malice. "I played the obedient slave because I was afraid of dying a meaningless death again… without achieving anything noteworthy."

"Ugh—!" Hubert wheezed as the man's arms tightened around him, crushing him like a vice.

The man continued, unbothered by Hubert's pain. "I waited one long year, hoping for a chance to escape, thinking I'd find some grand purpose out there. But you know what?"

-Crack!-

"AAAAARGH!" Hubert screamed as the sound of his back snapping echoed in the air.

The man ignored his master's cries, laughing maniacally before lowering his voice. "I think killing you and turning you into fireworks is purpose enough. Not everyone gets to be picky, you know?" He whispered, his words laced with venom. His wicked grin widened as he added, "Let's just enjoy these last moments together, shall we?"

Suddenly, the realization hit Hubert like a lightning bolt.

'T—the collar bomb!'

His eyes darted toward the man's neck, confirming his worst fear: the collar's countdown had been activated when the chains were broken.

Hubert's face twisted in panic. "You… damn slave! HEEEELP—Ack!"

Before he could call for help, the man delivered a brutal headbutt, silencing him with a sickening thud and rendering him unconscious.

"Hahaha! A noisy bastard to the end," the man chuckled darkly, gazing at the bloodied face of his once-master.

But his laughter was short-lived.

"Tsk… Looks like they heard him."

"Hey, you!"

A swarm of suited World Government agents suddenly surrounded the area, making the man click his tongue.

However, a faint smile of defiance remained on his face, even after being suddenly surrounded.

"Too late, gentlemen."

The next instant, the collar's ticking ceased.

As the deadly silence finally ensued, the man turned his gaze to the agents, his grin widening as he uttered his final words.

"Fuck you—"

-BOOOOM!!!-

After that, a massive explosion engulfed the area, shaking all of Mary Geoise and covering the surroundings in a dense cloud of dust.

When the air cleared, an agent emerged from the haze, cradling Hubert in his arms. The Tenryuubito's face was grotesquely burned, chunks of flesh melted away, exposing bone.

At the agent's feet lay the headless body of the rebellious slave.

And besides his feet, the figure of the slave who had rebelled earlier could be seen as completely headless.

It seemed, in a split second before the bomb detonated, one of the agents had decapitated the man and thrown the collar away from Hubert. While the effort saved Hubert's life, the explosion still left its gruesome mark on him.

"Get Hubert-sama medical attention! Now!" the agent commanded.

"Yes, sir!"

After his words, four agents disappeared with Hubert in an instant, leaving the leader to examine the headless corpse of the slave. Admiration and frustration flickered in his eyes.

"To think he'd sacrifice himself just to kill Hubert-sama…" he muttered, his voice tinged with anger.

As he inspected the body, he noticed a bullet wound near the shoulder.

'It seems he dodged by a hair's breadth Hubert-sama's shot… No wonder he was able to catch him by surprise…' The agent mumbled. His eyes widened as he inspected the body.

'He dodged by a hair's breadth. No wonder he managed to catch Hubert-sama off guard…'

With a sigh, he kicked the corpse aside. "Dispose of it."

The other agents nodded, vanishing with the body as the first Tenryuubito approached the scene. The leader groaned inwardly, an annoyed expression crossing his face.

"What a mess."

…

°

°

°

|A few minutes later, at the bottom of the holy land of Mary Geoise|

…

-Splash!-

Far below the holy land, at the edge of the sea, a charred and headless corpse plummeted into the water, sending ripples across the surface.

For a moment, the ocean lay still, undisturbed. Then, the corpse began to float, its scorched remains slowly rising to the surface. The broken shackles on its arms and neck marked it as yet another failed rebel who dared defy the world's so-called gods.

It should have been the end—another soul finding rest after a life of torment.

…

That would have been the usual. But then, something strange began to happen.

Bubbles formed across the burnt flesh, accompanied by thick, rising steam. From the destroyed tissue, new muscles and bones began to regenerate. Tendons stitched themselves together, and flesh rebuilt itself over charred remains.

In less than a minute, the body was whole once more—a young man with white hair lay peacefully atop the water's surface.

Somehow, what had been nothing more than another corpse evidencing the fate that awaited those who challenged the Tenryuubitos until then, had become nothing of the sort.

But still, even if his body had been rebuilt, the youth was still dead… So, the result of another slave dying after challenging his fate remained.

… Or did it?

"...!"

Suddenly, the youth's golden eyes snapped open, glowing like miniature suns.

...

..

.

Then, as the youth blinked and took deep breaths, he opened his mouth to say something.

"So, I'm immortal, hu—?"

-Splash!!!-

Before he could finish, a massive shark, the size of a small island surged from the depths and devoured him in one swift motion.

After that, the sea returned to its tranquil rhythm, leaving no trace of the chaos that had just unfolded.

…

-To be continued-