Before Ascella's battle on the ship deck took place, on the very bottom floor of the ship far away from all activity above, rooms and corridors felt stuffy.
The wooden walls were tight and dusty. Within the darkness covering the room, several small candle lights still fought back, reflecting faintly between the iron bars.
The body of a woman moved, her shadow visible along the corridor wall. Stains from dirty hands stood out on the wall. The sound of chains scraping echoed briefly. The weak eyes of the people behind the bars faintly followed every movement of the brown dress blending into the darkness.
Black hair covered her forehead. Her brows furrowed as she tried to shut her eyes tightly. The wooden floor trembled lightly beneath her steps. Her hand tightly gripped the collar of a little boy.
The rough sound of cloth scraping against the floor echoed, the child's body like a doll. Staring blankly without expression, his body was dragged along. Far from the iron bars, the door to a room opened slowly by a soft and clean hand.
In the middle of the darkness, a single small candle burned alone. Stacks of dusty crates, barrels, and casks could be seen in the corner of the room.
The door closed, the stuffy air from outside feeling reduced.
The woman's face turned toward the empty center of the room, the items in the corner, and one of the candles atop those objects there.
The sound of pant fabric scraping began moving toward the middle of the room. The little boy's back touched the floor gently. Slowly, the woman knelt in front of the boy's body.
The candlelight softly illuminated both of their faces.
That soft hand began slipping through the gap. A green glow restrained beneath the cloth seemed to begin reacting. A necklace with a pendant around the little boy's neck. It looked like a deep green gemstone burning brightly.
The woman's hand grasped the pendant and pulled it out from beneath the shirt.
"I only need to let it happen," said the woman.
The pendant glowed and dimmed repeatedly.
"That is not what I desire. Right, this is how it should be...,"
The pendant reacted suddenly. Its green light shone brighter, then slowly dimmed until it suddenly vanished. The woman's hand seemed to freeze for a moment. Her head turned upward. The right corner. The left corner.
As if realizing something familiar from the upper part of the ship, her hand tucked the pendant back into the little boy's shirt. The woman rose while gripping the collar of the boy's clothes. The little boy's body was lifted forcefully. His head hung limply.
The sound of clothing scraping against the floor headed toward the corner wall. At the right corner near the entrance. The sound stopped. The woman raised her forearm higher.
The woman threw the little boy's body behind a low crate in the corner of the room. His legs hung briefly before falling still.
"Stay quiet here first." The little boy lay roughly behind the crate.
The crates and barrels shifted slightly.
"I don't care anymore... I'll do it." The woman in the brown dress quickly walked out of the room.
The door opened and shut tightly. The brown fabric of the dress moved gently following wherever she walked.
A green glow darker than before appeared. But it did not come from the pendant. Rather, it came from behind the woman's eyes that were beginning to open.
A short distance from where the woman stood. The sound of footsteps approached, a man walking through the same corridor. His shadow drew closer and his eyes stared clearly. The man froze for a moment.
"Hah?" His eyes still tried to convince himself of what stood before him.
Before that certainty reached his mind.
His vision disappeared. Blood flowed beneath his brow. A cracking sound briefly echoed. His body slammed onto the floor without warning.
"One." The green light blinked. The woman's footsteps moved away from there. Toward the darkness, where another candle flame existed deep within the corridors.
Meanwhile three floors below, from the ship deck. Inside a room, light stones brightly illuminated every corner.
Above the warm carpet, their shoes stepped. Dozens of shadows could be seen on the floor. Wooden tables and chairs with soft cushions were filled. The smell of drink bottles and food on plates lingered.
Chairs scraped against the floor. Hands crowded over tables. A large wooden mug slammed onto the table. Loud laughter echoed amidst the crowd. The sound of conversations mixed together.
Amid the crowded room, a man wearing a tall hat sat calmly alone. His chair was far from the door and located in the corner of the room. The small window beside him held the hat-wearing man's attention.
His wooden table trembled softly for a moment.
Behind the thin glass, his eyes gazed far across the surrounding waters. In the middle of his thoughts, unnoticed by the man in the hat, his shoulder had long been pulled by someone's hand.
"Uncle! Hey! Old man!"
That voice successfully snapped him back, the man in the hat slowly turned his head.
"What is it?" asked the man in the hat to the man who had shaken his shoulder earlier.
The man sat while holding back his answer, his left hand gripping a mug full of drink.
"I brought you a drink, at least be grateful. Uncle," replied the man while glancing at another mug on the table.
The sound of gulping from the man's throat immediately followed. His lips were wet with slight traces left there.
Meanwhile the man in the hat merely stared at him, while fixing the position of his tilted hat. There was no interest in his eyes toward the full mug on the table.
The sound of knees slamming hard against the floor followed by smaller noises echoed. The room floor shook briefly. Several people stopped and began looking toward it, including the tall-hatted man.
A woman had collapsed, dropping plates and glasses onto the floor. Her breathing was faint before she tried to rise.
A man approached with his large uncovered arms. His hand yanked the hair of the woman who appeared weak. Her head was pulled upward, unable to resist the immense strength dragging her.
"This clumsy woman! How many times have you dropped things already. GET UP QUICKLY AND CLEAN IT!" The man threw the woman's hair from his hand until she was shoved far away.
"Sorry...,"
The sound of his footsteps felt deep and heavy. The woman's body trembled while cleaning the floor. The tall-hatted man had been watching her with a deep gaze all this time. Not missing even the slightest movement.
"How pathetic... If I were that woman, from the start I would've chosen death." The mug in the man's hand slammed quickly onto the table. The impact shook the table.
The man in the hat shifted his gaze toward the man before him. Without realizing it, he let out a small laugh. Taking a breath—before exhaling slowly.
"What's wrong with you... Uncle," asked the man, slightly confused hearing his laughter.
"No, no. It's just...," replied the man in the hat, his head turning back toward the woman now wiping the dirt from the floor with a cloth.
"People who become slaves to money, freely using their violence. Trying to act like rulers, through the slaves they bought with money." His hand moved to cover part of his face.
"Hahhh... Humans truly are shameless creatures," he continued.
Slowly his head turned back. His hand tried reaching for the mug on the table.
"In the end, all of us will surely become slaves to something...,"
His hand still grasped only air. His eyes tried helping search for the mug which apparently was already at the lips of the man before him. The sound of drink flowing down a throat felt warm even though the drink was cold.
The man in the hat smiled faintly and returned to gazing at the window again. Trying to accept what had already happened.
"But even as slaves to something, humans will still understand each other's feelings."
A mug slammed loudly onto the table again.
"Old uncle, what you did back then was really cool, for a moment... it felt like there was a wall hiding everything, then I moved to capture the target and disappeared... Without anyone knowing!" said the man. His breathing became slightly faster, sweat beginning to appear on his forehead.
"You've only been focused on drinking this whole time huh," replied the man in the hat. A resigned sigh escaped him.
"Besides... Could you stop calling me that," he continued.
The man began rubbing the back of his head while smiling awkwardly.
"Sorry, sorry—because everything was planned in a rush, we forgot to learn each other's names." The man extended his empty right hand toward the man in the hat.
"...My name is Joz. I only joined here a few weeks ago." Joz's outstretched hand was accepted reluctantly by the man in the hat.
"...This is the first and probably the last... My name is—"
Suddenly the man stopped speaking, something came and pierced painfully through his temple. His head quickly turned toward the room door that had been left wide open all this time.
His eyes stared at a figure recently familiar to him.
Far from his table, the silhouette slowly entering the room became clearer. With calmly closed eyes. Long hair slowly falling from the shoulders. A simple brown long dress slightly stained with red marks, the loose sleeves revealing skin reflecting the light stones.
"Joz or whatever your name is. Stay seated and don't move,"
"Why, did your mother give you a terrible na—"
Joz's mouth stopped speaking after realizing the expression on the man in the hat had become serious.
Uncle?!
He's not joking.
Joz's eyes caught the sweat at the tall-hatted man's temple, before following his gaze toward the same direction. His heart—felt deeply stabbed. His mouth hung slightly open, refusing to close. His eyes could not blink even once.
Even without being told, Joz probably would not move. A sense of danger they once felt when death was about to fall upon them. That feeling—that was what tightly locked Joz in place.
-When I Open My Eyes: My Journey Begins-
Next Ch 11,1: Transfer: Fourth Heaven