I leaned my trembling body against the cold concrete wall, letting my head press heavily against the stone. I just stared. My eyes traced the jagged cracks in the ceiling, blank and unfocused.
Honestly, same ceiling, same.
The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and rot—a raw, heavy mixture that seemed to seep directly into my pores.
My clothes were thin and clung to me, offering no shield against the biting chill that gnawed at my bones. The ache in my neck pulsed with every heartbeat, and the raw, red marks on my wrists from the shackles throbbed in a rhythmic heat.
Everything hurt at once.
That's when the truth finally dawned on me.
I was truly alone.
Neither the system nor the Gods were coming to rescue me. They expected me to find a way out, just as I always had. To them, I was a toy—something they'd picked up for a bit of entertainment. If I failed, I would be discarded, forgotten like the thousands of Testers who had come before me.
A wave of helplessness settled over me like a lead weight, pressing me down into the cold floor. All I could do was hug my scraped knees and tremble, hoping for this nightmare to finally end—a hope I thought I had strangled a long time ago.
I'm so tired.
I'm just a normal person forced to play a hero.
I hated pain, yet I was forced to die over and over. I was afraid of the dark, yet I had to endure it in cell after cell. I despised hunger because it tasted like the orphanage—memories of scraping for crumbs just to survive.
In one of my previous missions, I had been forced to eat wild weeds just to survive. It wasn't the worse but it hurts nonetheless.
My only happy memories were with my brothers and sisters back at the orphanage. I had endured everything, fought through every death and every trauma, just to land a career that would give them a better chance at life. And just as I was to achieve that dream I was pulled into this mess.
Even that had been ripped away from me.
I slouched against the wall, a hollow sound escaping my throat.
"Ugh. This overthinking could be resolved with a single slice of cheesy pizza," I murmured to the shadows.
My stomach clenched in a sharp, agonizing pang.
"Ah... I'm so hungry," I whispered, my voice trembling. If they had dropped me on the street, I could have scrounged for something, but prison was a different kind of hell. There wasn't even a blade of grass to chew on. At this rate, I was going to eat anything edible in a five-meter radius—be it alive or not.
In that moment, I heard the faint clink of metal.
My head jerked up, eyes narrowing as I turned toward the sound. A guard was settling in at a table outside the bars, making himself comfortable as he peeled open his lunch box. I swallowed hard, my stomach growling so loudly I was sure he could hear it.
The smell hit me like a physical force. It was intoxicating. I fixed him with my best, most pathetic "please-sir-can-I-have-some-please" look.
The smell was intoxicating.
"Ah... excuse me," I said in a tiny, fragile voice, tucking my embarrassment deep into the back of my mind when he didn't notice me.
Suddenly, the heavy door at the entrance creaked open and the guard was force to stand up.
The man I had seen earlier at the palace stepped inside. Even in the dim, oppressive air of the dungeon, his presence was commanding—almost hypnotic. His eyes, sultry and intense, studied me where I knelt on the cold floor. Shadows danced across his features, but they couldn't hide his face; it was strikingly sculpted, flawless and captivating.
Damn! He looks amazing.
He was a paradox—his features were both ruggedly masculine and almost androgynous. I'd encountered many men across forty different worlds, but none like him. Every line of his face made me freeze in awe. I had spent a lifetime hating the idea of men, but this... this was extraordinary.
I doubted I'd find anyone more beautiful, unless someone else in this world was waiting to prove me wrong.
We simply stared at each other, a long, silent moment stretching between us. I didn't bother breaking the silence; I was too exhausted and hungry to speak. He seemed content to observe me, his eyes appraising me as if I were a puzzle he hadn't expected to find.
"You look distinct," he finally spoke, his voice smooth, almost floating, it had a kind of lull seductive hint to it.
It wasn't the kind of voice suited for narrating an audiobooks, but for yearning men, his voice would be perfect. If not his face, his voice alone could awaken something dark and primal within women
But his words caught me off guard.
Distinct? Had he never seen an albino before?
It was the most original compliment I had ever received. With my red eyes, alabaster lashes, and hair that shimmered like moonlight, I knew I looked unique even in Earth. And in this fractured, desperate state, that truth held.
"Thank you for pointing that out," I replied, my voice hoarse. I stayed seated on the floor. "However, I'm not in the mood for small talk right now."
I didn't want to be rude—he was the only human interaction I was likely to get—but I was hitting my limit. For an introvert like me, small talk in a crisis was the ultimate distress.
The man took one last lingering look at me, his gaze feeling like an appraisal, before he turned and walked away without another word. When the door shut, I felt a wave of relief. Whatever his deal was, he clearly wasn't a prisoner.
I sank back onto the floor, ready to close my eyes and try to sleep through the hunger. Then, a sharp clatter of metal on concrete stole my attention.
"Here," a gruff voice broke through. The guard, a middle-aged man, was slipping a tray through the slot. He glanced toward the hallway where the man had just disappeared.
"He asked me to give this to you."
My eyes widened. I hurriedly scooted forward, my palms pressing against the cold bars.
"You mean the man who was just here?" I asked, pointing toward the exit.
The guard nodded, a faint smirk playing on his lips, and retreated to his post.
I turned to the tray. Inside, a generous portion of braised pork glistened. My stomach clenched, and I eagerly grabbed a piece, stuffing it into my mouth. The rich, savory flavor made the world fade away for a moment. I felt my will to live returning with every bite.
Then, the guard's voice echoed again while I was mid-chew, catching me so off guard I nearly choked.
"Oh—by the way. He told me you'll be released soon. And... to never attempt hugging the Emperor again."
My chewing halted abruptly. I stared at him, shock flashing across my face.
"What do you mean I attempted to hug the Emperor?!" I demanded, my voice rising through a half-full mouth. I had no memory of doing such a thing.
The guard shrugged. "Don't you remember? You caused a massive scene during the imperial parade. You climbed right into the Emperor's palanquin and tried to tackle-hug him."
Holy— I tried to speak, but a piece of fat went down the wrong way. I started hacking, punching my chest until the guard realized I was in trouble and brought me water. I gulped it down like my life depended on it.
"I know my wife's cooking is delicious," the guard teased, "but please, eat it slowly."