Chapter 3 - Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

I dropped to my knees and screamed—a loud, desperate sound of helplessness. I had aimed for something different, something greater, but now it's all for nothing. I am stuck as a tanker—in the last and in the present time.

Why was I back in the past if nothing in this timeline would change? The question pesters me, which I know will never be answered. The thought filled me with a seething hatred.

I grabbed the parchment with both hands, desperate to tear it in two.

The inscriptions meant nothing now. They were just meaningless words and numbers I took time to understand and interpret. Useless. All of it, useles! I pulled harder, my muscles screaming in protest, my chest burning as if it were being torn apart from the inside. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the anger, the betrayal that consumed me. I had already died once. What difference did it make if I perish again now?

With a final effort, I ripped the scroll in half. For a moment, there was silence. Then the pain hit—a searing, all-consuming agony that felt like my soul was being ripped apart. I coughed, blood and bile spilling from my lips, my body too weak to stand. I vomited my dinner that night.

My head felt like it was being crushed between two boulders, my throat scorched as if I had swallowed burning coals.

Was this my punishment? For my ingratitude, for my defiance? If so, then let it end. Please, just let it end. I squinted my eyes. I won't shed a tear over this.

But it didn't end. The pain dragged on, an eternity of suffering condensed into a single, unending moment. Why was it taking so long? Why couldn't I just die!?

Above me, the tower's light dimmed, its once-brilliant glow fading into darkness. The scroll, now in pieces, began to vaporize, its fragments dissolving into a charred powder that floated upward, disappearing into the evening sky.

••••••••••••

I woke up to the sun's scorching heat burning my face. My body was drenched in a mix of sweat and dried blood, the metallic tang of iron clinging to my skin. I think I look like a mess.

I took a whiff of my shirt and nearly gagged. The stench was unbearable, as if I hadn't bathed in days—or maybe I hadn't. The situation I'm in is enough to show that I have survived.

I pulled myself upright, my muscles screaming in protest. The tower loomed above me, its light restored, glowing faintly as if nothing had happened. My scroll, which I had torn apart in a fit of rage the night before, was gone.

I guess I was no longer favored—if I ever was. The memory of the excruciating pain I'd endured flashed through my mind, a stark reminder of the consequences of my actions.

Out of habit, I waved my hand upward, and to my surprise, the scroll reappeared—whole and pristine, as if it had never been torn. I growled under my breath, my fingers twitching with the urge to tear it apart again. But the ordeal from last night was a brutal lesson: the scroll was not something to be trifled with. I was stuck with this cursed thing, a high-HP human with no other advantages.

But something was different. At the bottom of the scroll, an unfamiliar word was inscribed, followed by the number 1.

1... What does it mean? Was it counting how many times I'd destroyed the scroll?

My eyes darted to my stats, and my heart sank. My HP is now 10. What? WHAT?! Was this some kind of sick joke? The torture last night wasn't enough, and now they'd stripped me of the only skill I had? I kicked the dirt in frustration, falling back onto my butt. I checked my stats again, my hands trembling.

HP - 10

MP - 0

Dexterity - 0

Speed - 0

Accuracy - 0

Intelligence - 0

Strength - 0

Skill Points Available - 1010

My breath hitched. Skill points this many? I had never seen this before. In the past, I hadn't earned any because I hadn't done the killing. But now, I have over a thousand points to allocate. Was this some kind of reset feature, like in a game? And there was an extra 20 points, too. I placed a hand over my mouth, disbelief washing over me.

But my celebration was short-lived. A group of men emerged from the treeline, their faces painted and rifles slung over their shoulders. They wore dark suits and clothe hats, their movements deliberate and menacing.

"There was only supposed to be a tip about a man here. Didn't expect to see a building," one of them muttered. Two of them immediately pointed their guns at me. I pretended not to understand their actions, my mind racing.

What should I do? If I make a move, I'm dead. Should I allocate my skill points now?

They started shouting, their voices sharp and commanding, as they closed in on me. There was no time to think. I hid my scroll just as the tallest man forced me to my knees, pressing the cold barrel of his rifle against my cheek. The others rummaged through my bag and inspected my phone, while a few approached the tower, poking at its gems with a machete.

"These are real diamonds," one of them said, a man in his 40s with a greedy smirk in his eyes. He tried to pry one loose, but the tower's surface barely scratched.

"How did you know about this pillar, kid?" the leader asked, his voice low and dangerous. He scrutinized me, his eyes narrowing as if trying to piece together why I was here.

"This is my family's land," I replied, my voice steady despite the fear gnawing at me. I wondered if I should act now, but I wasn't sure how the changes to my stats would affect me.

The leader didn't respond. Instead, he turned and signaled one of his men. The subordinate pressed his finger to the trigger, but before he could fire, I swatted the rifle upward. The shot rang out, hitting one of their own. Chaos erupted as they all turned their weapons on me. But I was faster—too fast for them to track.

I grabbed a machete from one of them and moved it like a phantom, cutting them down one by one. A bullet grazed my arm, but the pain was nothing compared to what I'd endured last night. Soon, only the leader remained.

"Stay away from me, you monster!" he screamed, emptying his magazine in a desperate barrage. But I dodged every shot, my movements precise and calculated. With a swift throw, I sent the machete flying into his stomach. He collapsed, his lifeless body hitting the ground.

I opened my scroll, checking the changes I'd made in the heat of the moment:

HP - 515

Speed - 505

I sighed. I should've distributed my points more evenly, but I didn't have the liberty to deliberate it more. Compared to the monsters and creatures from the caves, these men were nothing.

I stepped into the tower, the familiar scenery enveloping me. The world inside was vast and surreal—a castle surrounded by ancient-looking houses, a shimmering lake, a lush mountain, and a terrain teeming with plants and animals. The air was clean, the sky clear. It was like stepping into a time, older than ours.

I walked further in, turning around to see where I stepped out from. It's a similar tower within this world. Not all towers were the same—their markings and heights varied on earth—but they all shared one thing: the tower of the earth and from this world are the same. It's like your porting in and out of the same pillar.

The castle and villages were empty, as if waiting for inhabitants. I made my way to the castle's control room, the heart of the tower.

The room was brightly lit, filled with dials and knobs. A rectangular basin of water served as a screen, displaying the island and the tower outside. The bodies of the terrorists were still strewn around the base, and I noticed a boat approaching the scene. I zoomed in and checked that it's the same guy who accompanied me here.

I smirked. They'd meet the same fate. The crystal atop the tower whirred to life, gathering energy. The boater looked up, confusion etched on his face. I turned the knob, and a bolt of lightning flashed down, obliterating him and the corpses in an instant.

It may seem cruel, but these people have done far more worse. There's no reason to keep them alive or bother myself from burying them.

No mercy to those who doesn't show compassion.