faint hum echoed in the still air as the glowing panel before Evans flickered once again. His breath hitched as the strange, ethereal voice returned cold, devoid of emotion, yet heavy with undeniable authority.
[The Truth Simulation has begun.]
Day One
You attempted to leave your room in the afternoon. The door, however, refused to budge. Evening fell, and desperation drove you to try again under the moonless sky but once more, you failed. The door remained unmoving, like a wall of fate itself.
Day Two
Your throat cracked from screaming—dry, parched, desperate. Hunger gnawed at your insides. You begged, pleaded, even cursed, but not even a stray dog came near your room. Silence answered you. Only silence.
Day Three
Agony lent you strength. Driven by starvation and sheer will, you finally broke free from the room. The corridor outside reeked of rot and blood. As you staggered onto the deck, the horrifying truth of your situation revealed itself.
Corpses.
Dozens of them—young, cold, mutilated. Children, barely older than you. Their glassy eyes stared into nothing. Dried blood clung to their broken forms, pooling into dark puddles on the worn wooden floor. The Duke's son… the wizard apprentice… all of them were dead.
The ship, once a vessel toward destiny, had become a floating graveyard.
Terror gripped your soul. You stumbled back in panic, bile rising in your throat.
Then, from behind you,a voice.
"Oh? Interesting… someone's still alive."
Before you could even turn around, the world faded into black.
Day Four
You remained unconscious.
Day Five
Chains clinked as your limp body hung in darkness. Cold metal bound your limbs, your chest rose and fell slowly. Experiments began. You were still unconscious.
Day Six
You woke up. The pain was indescribable. You screamed until your voice cracked. It didn't stop. They didn't stop. You didn't faint.
Day Seven
Your screams echoed through the room, raw and animalistic. The figure in the shadows—the same man finally stepped forward, his voice sharp and annoyed.
"Keep your noise down. You're disturbing my research."
That was only the beginning.
The cycle continued.
Day by day.
Week by week.
Month One
Your body became a canvas of cruelty -prodded, pierced, reshaped. You felt bones break and reform. Your skin tore, healed, and tore again. And through it all, something inside you… changed.
Month Two
Your muscles grew denser. Your agility sharpened. You were becoming something else.
Month Three
You were faster. Stronger. Your senses began detecting things beyond sight or sound.
Month Four
Your humanity slipped away. Slowly, silently.
Year One
The reflection in the mirror—or what was once a mirror showed a twisted form. Tentacles pulsed along your arms. Your face, now scorched and unrecognizable, was a mask of horror.
The man who had experimented on you stepped forward again.
"Perfect."
He raised his hand. Runes danced in the air.
A contract burned into your soul,a Master-Slave seal. You didn't resist. You couldn't.
Year Two
You obeyed. You fulfilled his missions like a beast on a leash.
Year Three
Your end came swiftly. A mere wizard apprentice struck you down with a single blazing spell. Your monstrous body collapsed into ash.
You have died.
Do you want to keep your physical attributes or your memories?
Evans gasped aloud. Sweat poured down his back as he stared at the message, his breath shaky. The vividness of the simulation lingered in his mind like the aftertaste of a nightmare.
That… That would've been his fate.
If not for this power.
He gulped, throat dry, and with a trembling hand, reached toward the hovering option.
He chose physical attributes.
A sudden jolt surged through his body. His muscles tensed as something powerful rushed into him, like a tide breaking free. Strength filled every limb, his senses sharpened to a razor's edge. It was exhilarating and terrifying.
The sensation lasted only a minute. But when it ended, Evans felt… reborn.
He steadied himself and summoned his status panel.
[Status]
Name: Evans Blake
Age: 12
Strength: 2.8
Agility: 3.1
Health: 3.2
Constitution: 2.6
Spiritual power : 1.4
Meditation Technique: Dark Wood Beginner Technique
Wizard Talent: First Class
Note: You can only simulate once per day.
Evans released a long breath, eyes lingering on the numbers.
"So I'm not weak anymore," he whispered.
In his old world, he would've been hailed as a Superhuman,his strength over three times that of an average adult man. But here… in this twisted world of monsters, wizards, and madness?
He was still nothing.
Still prey.
His hand curled into a fist. "But at least now… I have a chance."
He glanced outside,the sky had darkened into deep hues of indigo. The evening breeze whistled through the cracks in the wooden walls.
"One simulation per day," he muttered, lying back down on the creaky bed, eyes open, alert.
"I'll wait. When midnight comes… I'll try again. I have to. Anything's better than the fate I just saw."
A shiver ran through him.
He wouldn't—he couldn't—live that nightmare for real.