While Adyr was thinking about how to make good use of these lands, which had now grown large enough to even fit a city, there was one person who did not share his feelings.
"Why does this damn place keep changing and growing?" Cannibal muttered, trapped among the Gritstalks. Nearly 2 ters tall now, their thick stalks rose above him like a living wall; his gaze stayed fixed on the sky until dread settled deep in his eyes.
In his arms, he hugged a dirty pillow, worn and stained, like it was the only thing left he could cling to for emotional support.
Every ti the place changed, Cannibal had to adapt all over again. He had to adjust to the new residents, the new atmosphere, and the new fieldwork that kept getting dumped onto him. It felt like the land itself kept rewriting his routine without warning.
Although his prison was growing and seed to give him more room to live, the expansion only made him more desperate. The day he could escape felt farther away the more the island's borders continued to stretch outward. The horizon kept sliding back, always out of reach, like it was mocking him.
There was also this new scent spreading everywhere. It was sweet and strangely enticing, thick enough to cling to his lungs. But instead of comforting him, it only left him feeling more desperate.
With every inhale, the scent seed to ta him a little more, pulling him deeper into laziness. His limbs grew heavier than they should have been, and the last scraps of motivation to escape slowly faded inside him.
"I'm becoming more of a slave every day," Cannibal muttered under his breath, terrified by how certain it felt. He could not even asure it anymore, because without a proper day-and-night cycle, he had no idea how many days had passed since he ca here.
He watched the reddish sky, feeling his future slip through his fingers.
Then a voice reached him from behind, calm and familiar.
"Are you pleased to see your ho grow bigger now?"
A cold shiver ran down Cannibal's spine. He snapped his head around and saw the transparent energy body hovering above the Gritstalks, silent and weightless, staring at him with a featureless face.
Adyr had not co to speak with him much in recent days. He only appeared from ti to ti, gave a few new instructions, and watched his work without letting it turn into any real conversation.
Still, Cannibal felt strangely relieved whenever he saw him. It was the only presence that felt familiar in this lonely and dangerous world, the only "person" that ever returned.
Before, whenever he saw Adyr's energy body, he felt only rage and murderous intent. But as ti passed, with no one else to speak to, he gradually grew attached to this energy body. He found himself waiting every day just to talk, to exchange a few words, to dull the loneliness inside him.
"Ah yes, thank you for all the opportunities you've provided ." He pressed his head to the ground in a respectful kowtow, his forehead touching the soil like it was a ritual.
The words were a complete lie. They were the exact opposite of what Cannibal truly felt. Yet they left his mouth sounding sincere and realistic, smooth enough to pass as gratitude, like they were his genuine feelings.
However, seeing his respect, Adyr nodded in satisfaction.
He could feel Cannibal's mind crumbling day by day. His character was steadily shifting under the psychological pressure of the environnt he was trapped in. Isolation, routine, and reward were grinding him down.
A little more ti, and Adyr was certain the mutant would develop a deep Stockholm syndro toward him. He was not far from becoming a loyal slave who could be trusted.
"So how is the situation? Is everything going well?" Adyr asked. His tone was neither too authoritative nor too friendly. He kept a precise balance to maintain the slave-owner relationship.
Cannibal understood imdiately what Adyr was asking. Without lifting his head, he began his report. It felt safer not to et that faceless gaze.
"Everything's going fine. The Gritstalks are ready for harvest, I'll start soon. The birds have been busy too, leaving buckets of droppings. Their numbers look higher than the last ti I counted. There's enough to fertilize the flower fields already, and I've been keeping the extras, like you ordered. It's up to 10.5 buckets."
Cannibal delivered his report like a farr speaking to his landlord, even offering the surplus harvest as if it were a tax.
As Adyr listened, he glanced toward a spot where several buckets sat, their interiors filled with a gray, cream-like liquid.
It was not much, but it was still a decent resource. All the buckets could be sold on the market for around 100 to 200 crystals. The amount was low, but it was still a decent start.
The Gritstalk fields would also bring an additional 200 to 300 crystals after the harvest. Again, it was not satisfying enough to et Adyr's growing needs. Still, it was acceptable for an early phase.
The biggest profit ca from the chirping birds perched across the Mother Tree's branches like living ornants. Their small bodies hopped between limbs and filled the air with constant sound. When Adyr looked at them, he could see their numbers had grown by at least 20%. That was an excellent reproduction rate.
Overall, if he calculated his current monthly inco from the fields and investnts, it was around 800 to 1000 crystals if he sold everything. Although this amount was far from sufficient, it was still a decent start for a beginner like him. For soone handling these things for the first ti, it could be
considered rapid developnt.
After a short silence, Adyr muttered, "Looks like it's ti to get more manpower to increase production rates." The conclusion felt obvious the mont he saw the buckets and the bird droppings already dried on the ground, left uncollected for too long.
Cannibal alone could only handle so much. If he pushed beyond this while juggling every task, he would work himself to death. So if Adyr wanted to
expand the fields, he 'd need more people.
When Cannibal heard those words, he felt as if he had just heard the most beautiful thing in his entire life. He lifted his head and looked at Adyr with shining eyes, hope flickering behind that twisted face.
For Adyr, it ant more slaves for his Sanctuary. For Cannibal, it ant friends.
It ant people he could finally speak to, instead of his dirty, worn-out pillow that silently kept him company at night, pressed to his chest like a replacent
for a heartbeat.
Seeing his expectant look, Adyr let out a low chuckle. Then a small bag
appeared in his hand, solid and real despite the energy form holding it.
He tossed it toward Cannibal. "This is your reward for your hard work. Keep doing well, and you'll get more later."
Then his energy body vanished from sight. It dissolved without sound, leaving only the fields and the lone mutant human behind.
Cannibal, still filled with excitent after speaking to soone for the first ti in a long while and receiving the promise of rewards and companions, felt more energized as he crawled through the Gritstalks toward the bag on the ground, pushing aside stalks that brushed his shoulders and face.
Reviews
All reviews (0)