Survival

"Hurry up, James… We need to set sail soon," said the rough and hurried voice of an elderly man.

"Yes… Wait for me a moment," came a reverberating sound from underground, separated by a wooden door that divided two worlds.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and out came a boy around 14 years old, with tanned skin and short black hair. James wore somewhat old clothes, reflecting the typical life of most fishermen. He quickly ran towards the older man, who appeared frail, with almost all his white hair gone. Deep wrinkles marked the man's face, and his sighs revealed his worry about the task ahead.

"Let's go," the old man said as he glanced at James before continuing towards the shore. The boy swiftly followed behind.

After a few minutes, they finally arrived at the beach. As soon as they boarded the boat, the old man noticed some shipwreck debris floating in the distance and a person lying motionless on the shore. He frowned slightly and said, "It seems yesterday's storm caused this."

James, seeing this, said nothing but frowned and muttered to himself, "I hope that person is already dead…"

Then the two of them approached the spot where the person had washed ashore. Before them now lay a boy about 13 years old, with black hair, visible wounds from sea monster bites, and, most strikingly, a black flame tattoo on the corner of his forehead.

"Incredible. What could have happened to this kid?" the old man said in a low voice.

Standing nearby, James bluntly said, "Just leave him, Grandpa. That kid is dead already."

The old man moved closer to the boy, placing his hand near the boy's nose. Feeling the weak breath on his fingers, he didn't hesitate and immediately picked the boy up, heading toward Atlas Town.

"Fortunately, the boy's already reached Rank F," the old man remarked.

With a slight frown, James didn't stop him. He knew that once his grandfather had made up his mind, it was hard to change. Worried, James asked, "That tattoo… Is it really safe to help this kid?"

Continuing on without paying much attention to James's warning, the old man replied, "What harm can a mere child do?"

Grumbling a bit, James followed behind, saying, "I mean the Carter family. None of the members of that family have ever been good people. Not to mention, this kid might get us into trouble, too." Anger flared up in him as he recalled how his grandfather always acted on feelings. That same sentimentality had led to his parents being eaten by monsters.

Understanding James's concern, the old man gave him a sorrowful look but said nothing.

***

Everything was pitch black, but in the midst of that darkness, a point of light began to grow. Slowly, a wooden ceiling emerged—old but solid, showing its endurance over the years.

"Ah… It hurts," groaned the boy, his voice full of pain. His body was covered in blood-soaked bandages, and he used the bedpost to try to pull himself up.

"Awake, are we?" said a weak, elderly voice from the corner of the room. Liam immediately turned toward the voice, and in front of him stood a frail old man with white hair. Despite his exhaustion and the pain from his wounds, Liam forced himself to speak.

"Who are you?… And where am I?"

The old man smiled and replied, "I'm Michael Anderson… just an ordinary old fisherman." He added, "As for where you are, this is my home. I found you washed up on the beach."

Hearing this, Liam found it hard to believe what he was hearing. He had thought he was dead and had crossed into the next world. The searing pain in his body denied that idea. He struggled once again to sit up, blood beginning to seep through his bandages. He slowly sat up, looking at the old man with genuine gratitude.

"Thank… you, Mr. Michael," Liam managed to say each word despite the burning pain in his throat.

Michael smiled gently, observing the boy. In his heart, he felt that saving this boy was the right decision. Just then, the door burst open with a loud, ear-piercing bang that interrupted the conversation between Liam and Michael. The person who opened the door seemed to be in a state of fury.

"Use this… then get out of here by tomorrow."

The boy tossed a small glass bottle filled with various colors toward Liam, who caught it, startled by the tanned boy's reaction. But Liam understood that he shouldn't impose on them any further. He only regretted not having anything to repay their kindness. Glancing at the colorful glass bottle, curiosity filled his eyes, and he asked the boy before him, "What is this?"

James, taken aback by Liam's seemingly naive question, looked at him with disdain. "If you don't want to use it, just throw it away."

Michael shook his head slightly at his grandson's attitude and then explained to Liam, "That's Rainbow Medicine. It helps heal wounds. You probably haven't seen it before, as it's made from damaged products—it's the cheapest kind. Still, it's the best we can offer you here."

Liam's eyes brightened as he gazed at the glass bottle. So, this was the healing potion from the anime he'd watched before. Without hesitation, he uncorked it, letting the pungent aroma fill his nostrils—a scent that was slightly unpleasant. Enduring the discomfort, he downed the entire bottle without a second thought. After all, if they had intended to kill him, they would have done so already, without going to the trouble of poisoning him.

"Sweet," he muttered as he licked his lips, savoring the taste. But suddenly, a surge of energy erupted within him—red energy radiated throughout his body. As the energy manifested, his old wounds rapidly healed at an astonishing speed. Within minutes, he could move freely again. He examined his body with satisfaction, finally noticing that his physique had become stronger, with visible muscles. It was likely due to the effect of that strange apple earlier. Meanwhile, both Michael and James stared at Liam in shock.

"So, you really are a member of the Carter family," Michael said, his eyes filled with both admiration and pity as he looked at Liam.

"What do you mean?" James asked, curious as this was the first time he had seen such energy.

Michael calmly explained, "The Carter family is notorious for its harshness. Not only is their name feared, but they are also brutal towards their own members. As you know, energy within a person is divided into two types: Elemental Energy and Force Energy. Force Energy only forms when one crosses the line between life and death. When the survival instinct is strong enough, mana around us forms a Force Core. However, the chances of forming a core are extremely low."

He looked at Liam with a sympathetic expression and added, "And in the Carter family, when their children reach the age of 13, they undergo a life-or-death trial. The survival rate is only 10%."

James, now even more astonished, glanced at Liam with a mix of admiration and curiosity. "So, what was that trial like?"

Having just received an overwhelming amount of information, Liam was now truly curious about this body's identity. Although he indeed bore the Carter name, could it really be such a coincidence? The truth remained that he knew nothing about this world. It was best to be honest with them to gain more information rather than trying to go along with everything they said. Old man Michael seemed kind-hearted, and perhaps he could help Liam learn more. Rubbing his forehead, Liam then recounted everything to them, except for the part about him being from another world.

"What nonsense," James muttered angrily after hearing Liam's story, then stormed out of the room, followed by the sound of a slamming door.

Liam sighed in response. Whether they believed him or not, the truth remained unchanged.

"Don't mind the boy. He was actually very kind at first… but certain events have changed him," the old man said with a sorrowful expression as he reminisced about the past. Then he turned to Liam with a thoughtful gaze.

"So, Liam Carter. Now, I'll tell you about the current state of this world. It's the least I can do for you."

"You really believe what I said?" Liam asked in surprise, looking at Michael.

"What do you think?" Suddenly, Michael's eyes changed, now crackling with tiny sparks of electricity within them. The abrupt shift startled Liam, causing goosebumps as he pulled the blanket tighter around himself and backed into the wall.

"Hahaha… I'm just messing with you," Michael laughed loudly, wiping away tears of amusement at Liam's reaction. In truth, a man like him had enough experience to discern whether someone was lying from their gestures and words.

"Damn it… This old man is far from ordinary," Liam thought, sweating nervously at Michael's actions.