CHAPTER 18: Resonating Souls

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Quietly descending the ladder into the office, he immediately picked up on the soft voice of a girl. Amidst her distressed cries, he discerned the metallic clink and clatter of equipment. Through the partially transparent screen dividing the office from the lab, Daisuke could vaguely see a small figure restrained on the worktable. Next to her, an animated silhouette engaged in a medical procedure with cold, laser-like focus.

It was Reginald.

Daisuke wasted no time. Biting his lips in frustration, he urgently slinked toward the filing cabinets and began searching until he found what he sought. Then he immediately returned the way he came with utmost discretion.

"Please," the girl muttered breathlessly, pleadingly. "Please stop! No! No more!"

Daisuke felt his heart drop, and he fastened his eyes shut and clenched his teeth. He knew—he could tell without a shadow of a doubt that the girl confided to that worktable was being subjected gruesome experimentation against her will.

But what could he do?

As far as he was concerned, he was just a regular NPC, or perhaps even less. He had no «stats» or «skills», which meant he lacked strength and power. He didn't possess any weapons or items, nor did he have capable allies. How could he possibly navigate a hostile confrontation between Reginald and his loyal servants?

"I'm so sorry," Daisuke whispered dejectedly, and then he was gone.

***

RUMBLE~

The sporadic growling of hungry bellies intermingled with the screech of crickets. With her heightened sense of hearing, Sheba could vividly perceive the distressing sounds, and it shattered her heart.

Releasing her knees, she shifted onto her back atop an uncomfortable bed of hay. It was only her first night, yet her back was already developing an infernal ache. All around her, the other Beastkin slaves shared the same makeshift bed, and the thought of those who had endured longer than she had pained her deeply.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a hand shot out from the darkness and clamped over her mouth. Sheba panicked and began squirming until she recognized the familiar face to which the hand belonged. The figure stood silently, pressing an index finger to his lips.

"Shhh~" he whispered.

As Sheba stilled and quieted herself, the silver-haired boy removed his hand with a wan smile.

"H-Haxks!" Sheba uttered in a hushed tone, her surprise evident. "How... what are you doing here?!"

"I come bearing gifts," he explained, gesturing towards the large sack at his side.

With the blueprint safely in hand, Daisuke had effortlessly made his way to the kitchen through the ceiling where he raided its pantry. Afterwards, he somehow managed to exit the manor and moved stealthily towards the slave quarters situated at the back of the estate.

The building, as one might expect, was a rather inhospitable place. The structure, reminiscent of a hybrid between a house and a barn, was hardly welcoming. Within its walls, the Beastkin cohabited with a stable of horses, sharing their living space amidst the lingering scent of manure and urine. Despite the less-than-ideal conditions, the slaves—primarily comprised of children and young adults—eagerly consumed the food Daisuke provided, their hunger outweighing any discomfort.

Those who had eaten their fill felt a change in their spirits. Their expressions shifted from the shadow of want to a glimmer of contentment. Children whose laughter had been stifled by their circumstances began to play, their newfound energy a testament to the revitalizing power of even the simplest meal. Among them stood Sheba, her heart filled with relief and joy.

"Now, everyone," Sylvia called out in a commanding tone. "What do we all say to Master Langley for bringing us food?"

"Thank you!" they chimed in unison.

Then, in an instant, they were all back to running around and playing once more. Daisuke smiled ruefully, and then his gaze fell upon the hooded girl with the enigmatic presence. She was nestled in a quiet corner, distancing herself from the flurry of activity.

With a silent understanding, Daisuke secured provisions before they ran out—a loaf of bread, crisped bacon, and a cup of water. Approaching her cautiously, he extended the food, the simple gesture a bridge between two worlds, between the noise and the stillness.

The girl kept her head low, her petite frame trembling in the biting cold. Her body visibly stilled as she felt the comforting embrace of an orange scarf being delicately wound around the hood of her cloak.

"Even the longest night must yield to the dawn, for no darkness can hold back the rising sun," Daisuke whispered in a velvety tone, butterscotch eyes smoldering with sympathy. "If it's the last thing I do, I promise I'll get you out of here. So until that time comes, try to keep up your strength. Oh, and when you have a full tummy, that helps to keep you warm."

Daisuke didn't wait for a response. Instead, he turned on his heel and began making his way over to Sheba and Sylvia, completely unaware that fleeting exchange had forged a cosmic connection that went beyond words.

Crimson-red eyes surreptitiously peeked out from depths of the girl's hood as she tenderly ran her fingers over the fabric of the scarf. Perfect, unpainted lips parted to breathe a word of gratitude, but then she swallowed them down, stifling the resonance that hummed between them.

Fear of monsters& the unknown: 41.2%

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