I pressed a piece of metal against her neck.
In an instant, she bent over quickly and fell to her knees on the ground.
"I'm sorry… I'm really… sorry…"
Her cloak shifted slightly, revealing her face.
Her hair was long and black, and her skin was pale and serene, adorned with rosy cheeks. She had wide, dark eyes, surrounded by dark circles, though they appeared slightly sunken,
"[System]"
Name: Unknown
Class: E
Skills: None
Hidden Skills: 0
My eyes widened slightly. She was uniquely beautiful...
I said in a low voice, still clutching the metal piece:
"Who are you? And why are you following us?"
She slowly lifted her head toward me.
"I... my name is Miro."
She paused for a moment, then continued:
"I suddenly appeared in this world that I know absolutely nothing about. Everything seemed strange to me… but when I saw you, and saw your clothes, they looked just like the clothes people wear in the world where I used to live."
I muttered to myself:
"Could she really be like me…? Does she mean our world?"
She continued, looking straight into my eyes:
"That's why… I followed you when I saw you… I felt that you were like me."
I sighed, then whispered to myself:
"Don't let your guard down… she might be trying to trick me."
Then I asked her:
"So, what do you want? And what's the point of all this? Just the clothes I'm wearing? If I told you I bought them from someone, what would you say?"
She replied nervously:
"Impossible… I've never seen clothes like these before."
She was looking at my black pants, my black sandals, my white undershirt, and the black jacket I was wearing.
What caught my attention was your white hair, dyed black at the ends, and your blue eyes… I've never seen anyone who looks like this in this world."
She took a deep breath, then said confidently: "That's when I knew you had a connection to my world."
I felt a strange sensation wash over me, so I said to her
nervously.
"I didn't ask you to describe me."
Many thoughts crossed my mind. Do you have a system like mine? Should I ask her or not? And if she's lying to me, I'll be in trouble—and maybe she's connected to that junk system of mine. No… it's better not to tell her anything.
I tightened my grip on the metal piece, then asked her calmly:
"How long have you been lost here?"
After a moment of silence, she replied:
"A week. At first, I couldn't find anything to eat, so I tried to learn how to use a sword so I could protect myself. Then an old man told me about a trading organization operating in several cities that buys monsters hunted by adventurers for a pittance. At first, I liked the idea… But I barely survived one time."
She lifted a corner of her cloak off her shoulder.
My eyes fell on deep claw marks that slashed across her shoulder, as if a monster had nearly torn her body to pieces.
She put the cloak back in place and said in a faint voice:
"This… is the price of hunting monsters. I've saved up some money, but it's gradually running out… and I don't have much left."
I stared silently at her wounds.
Maybe we can solve our financial problem… but
I watched her for a few moments. If she'd intended to deceive me, she would have drawn the sword hanging behind her back from the very beginning. I was defenseless in front of her, and yet she didn't try to attack me.
I let out a faint sigh.
I have no other choice.
I looked at her and said calmly:
"All right… what exactly do you want?"
She lowered her head, and her voice was barely audible:
"I want to go back to my homeland… I want to go back home."
Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought them back with difficulty.
At that moment, I remembered the system notification.
The primary mission.
The reward was the fulfillment of one wish.
If that's true, we'll be able to go back—this might be our only chance…
But my expression quickly changed, and I muttered sarcastically:
"How can I trust a pathetic system that forces me to obey it?"
I muttered to myself: I have no other choice.
I took a slow breath, then raised my voice slightly:
"Let's make a deal. Take me to the organization you told me about, and help me hunt the monsters. In return, I might be able to help you escape this world… but I can't guarantee anything."
Her eyes suddenly glinted with a faint spark, as if she'd grasped a lifeline. "Really… you'll help me?"
I hesitated for a moment before answering, the tension evident in my voice: "I can't promise you anything. I told you that from the start."
A brief silence fell, then she stood up, as if pondering something deeper, before asking:
"First of all… are you from the same world as me?"
My thoughts raced. If I told her, I might put myself in a situation I couldn't get out of. But simply ignoring the question was no less dangerous.
"I said calmly, trying to hide my confusion.
'And why does that matter to you?'"
Her cheeks flushed slightly as she looked at me, then she said in a softer voice, "I'll feel safer if I know that."
Her words were simpler than I'd expected, but they struck a chord within me.
I was silent for a few seconds, then said without thinking:
"Yes… I'm from the same world as you." For a moment, I felt as though my mind could no longer keep up with my tongue.
A faint smile, a mixture of relief and shyness, played on her rosy lips, and she said, "My name is Miro… I'll be counting on you, Commander."
Her laughter rang out, her silky black hair swaying.
Then she added: "Let's go."
In the real world…
A janitor was walking down the second-floor hallway, passing by the apartments and cleaning the corridor until he reached apartment number 23. He was cleaning near the door when several cockroaches and insects crawled out from underneath it. He muttered to himself: This is a new tenant's apartment… What's his name? Hmm, right, Siraj. The place looks like a total mess.
He grabbed the doorknob and said in a low voice: Do you need cleaning?
He pushed the door slightly, and it opened easily.
He slipped inside. The place was almost pitch-black, and the sounds of cockroaches, mice, and the rustling of insects filled the air, while discarded food cans were scattered all over the floor, along with underwear giving off a foul odor.
His eyes widened.
He paused for a moment, whispering, "What…?"
Then he began to call out, "Siraj… Siraj, sir, are you here?"
He received no answer.
He moved further into the apartment until he reached an open bedroom door. The smell there was even stronger, suffocating—like that of a dead rat.
He pushed the door open slowly.
He froze in his tracks.
On the ground lay Siraj's body, surrounded by a pool of congealed blood, with scattered papers and pieces of wood on his back, as if something had fallen on him with great force.
He rushed toward him, quickly pushing the objects aside, muttering in a fluster: "Sir… are you okay? Answer me…"
But there was no response.
He repeated louder: "Ambulance… Ambulance!"
He took out his phone and called emergency services.
Hours later, elsewhere…
Inside the Siraj family's home, a man with white hair and dark eyes sat in a comfortable chair, silently reading a newspaper. Beside him, a woman with long black hair and blue eyes was preparing a cup of coffee.
As she set down the cup, she said, "Darling, has Siraj called? Do you have any news about him?"
He didn't answer.
She looked at him again, worry beginning to creep into her voice: "I'm worried about him… Tell me if you know anything."
He muttered quietly without looking up: "I don't know… and I don't want to know."
Suddenly, the home phone rang.
The mother hurried over and answered: "Hello?"
A voice came from the other end: "Is this Siraj's house?"
She replied nervously, her breathing quickening: "Yes…"
A brief silence followed.
In an instant, the phone slipped from her hand and fell to the floor… while
tears continued to fall silently.