When Power had failed him, he came to disdain it.
But when Intelligence had failed him, it had taught him a lesson instead.
[ Fair enough ]
Turning away, Declan looked into the distance, finding nothing but towering trees surrounded him.
"A forest... so weird," he muttered.
This was the year 4005.
The world had advanced far beyond anything that had once been imaginable, and places with natural vegetation like this had become rare enough that people went on excursions just to experience them.
Some Mordrans living in the cities never even got to see a real forest before they died.
Declan had never planned on setting foot in one either, but now that he thought about it...
What better place could there be to dispose of the corpses of illegally killed people than somewhere most would never visit in their entire lives?
As much as he wanted to leave this place as soon as possible, he understood the brutal reality.
Leaving would be almost impossible, judging by how he could not even see any type of building close by, while dangerous beasts lurk in every corner.
And even if he was unlucky to get out, he could just end up falling back into the hands of the people who had killed him.
This time...There would be no second chance.
"Just one night, and I’ve already grown to two and a half times my previous strength."
Declan mused over it.
"Even among Nexians, I don’t think this kind of growth is normal."
"Staying here will be dangerous, but the more missions I complete and the more I level up, the faster I’ll grow."
"And after some time...Maybe I’ll become strong enough to leave this place and start over."
With that conviction settled in his mind, Declan continued down the path he had chosen.
Whenever he completed a mission, the System issued another, and he leveled up, then leveled up again, and again, until....
[They’re finally here...]
=========================
VROOOM!
The silence of the forest shattered as two sleek shapes raced between the towering trees, weaving low through the dense vegetation.
They resembled a cross between sleek sports cars and miniature spaceships, their smooth black-and-silver bodies glowing faintly with neon-crimson lights.
There were no wheels beneath them.
Instead, they hovered effortlessly above the ground, sending leaves rustling beneath them as though an invisible current of air was sweeping through the forest.
Soon, the two flying pods slowed to a stop exactly thirty meters from a large pit.
Their engines fell silent, as the pods descended gently onto the earth, and with a soft hiss, their gleaming silver hatches opened.
Four men emerged, two from each pod.
All four wore matching cleaner uniforms, jackets and trousers that gave them a sharp, unified appearance.
Two had already strapped large breathing masks over their faces, while the other two carried theirs in their hands.
Each man also carried a large, dark bag as they approached the pit.
"Oh, hell no. The smell’s gotten even worse since the last time."
The unmasked man who spoke was grey-haired and appeared to be in his fifties. His nose wrinkled in disgust as he hurriedly pulled his mask over his face.
"Should’ve worn it before getting out," one of the men from the other pod remarked.
He was younger, around twenty-five, with half his face already hidden behind his mask.
"Common sense must be rare nowadays, man."
Another man spoke up.
He was the burliest of the group, with a pair of eye-catching earrings that nearly covered his entire left ear.
"Anyone with half a brain knows to do that. It’s like Duran loses some of his fucking brain cells every time we take this side job."
He snickered.
"Old men just ain’t cut out for shit like this..."
The second unmasked man, who had stubbornly remained without a mask despite the overwhelming stench, chimed in.
"Y’all shut your bitch asses up!" Duran snapped back.
"What type of motherfucker is cut out for disposing of unlucky brats’ corpses!?"
Duran scoffed as they reached the pit.
The earring-wearing burly man, however, wasn’t finished.
"I don’t know, maybe some big-balled motherfucker who’s not afraid to get his hands dirty for some quick cash."
They reached the edge of the pit and dropped the bags onto the ground.
Pulling open the zippers revealed another set of dark nylon bags inside.
They hauled them out and turned them upside down.
The contents spilled into the pit:
Mangled human and beast body parts tumbled out.
Limbs, torsos, and twisted remains drenched in blood.
The already nauseating stench intensified several times over.
The men worked quickly and without further conversation, dumping the corpses from one bag after another before stuffing the empty nylon bags back inside and packing everything away.
"You see, Duran?"
The unmasked Antonio laughed as he continued working.
"Simple shit like this, and we make two thousand Nollars."
"There ain’t a much easier job in the world."
Despite the horrendous stench that forced the others to wear masks, Antonio laughed loudly without bothering to cover his face.
His nose flared as though he actually enjoyed the putrid smell.
"I don’t know, Antonio."
Duran shook his head.
"This gives me bloody nightmares for days afterward."
He paused.
"But, on God, the cash is real good."
"Why you gon’ be getting nightmares?" Sumo, the man with the earrings, asked.
"Motherfucker, we ain’t the ones who killed them. We’re just helping dispose of their unlucky asses and giving them some peace in hell."
He shrugged.
"I’d say we’re doing the Lord’s work."
"Whatever. Let’s get out of here already."
Zignu, the youngest of them, finished packing the bags and turned toward the pods, the others following behind him, when all of sudden, all four men froze in place.
The forest fell strangely silent, with the soft rustling of leaves being the only sound.
Then two of the bags slipped from their hands and hit the ground.
"Psst, Antonio."
Duran’s voice was barely above a whisper.
"Yeah?"
"Tell me I’m the only one seeing that dude resting on the ship."
Antonio’s expression stiffened, before he replied.
"You’re not the only one..."