Chapter Title: Questions
Alfonso continued to pretend outwardly, but inwardly, he was analyzing the situation and asking questions.
"How did I transfer into this body?"That is the question from which all other questions stem. But I don't think I'm capable of answering it right now.
Then there's the matter of memories—how was I able to witness the birth of Kaeses at that time?
If my point of view depended on Kaeses' perception, that wouldn't be possible—he was just an infant then.
Third, who exactly is Kelon? What's his story? And the black book—It contained various types of herbs, some common, others unheard of until now.
It also included rituals, all of which revolved around the soul. Alfonso—or Kaeses, at the time—read the book and even finished it three times.
Fourth, the strange power his body now possesses. From Kaeses' memories—everything from the hut, the slave market, the farm, and then to this coliseum—he had never been this strong in any of those places.
The only question he was able to answer was about Kaeses' intelligence relative to his age.Kaeses started out as a normal child, and Alfonso's perspective at the time was external, but over time, it shifted to Kaeses' own point of view.
So the most likely reason was the fusion of Kaeses' soul and Alfonso's.
"But… I feel like something is missing… something important," Alfonso thought, trying to recall anything he may have overlooked.
"Ugh..."Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain, like something twisting inside his brain.
"Ugh… aaah!"The pain was unbearable. He barely resisted screaming. Then suddenly, the light vanished from his eyes—Only to return in a flash.
"...!?"Alfonso looked left and right, disoriented.
Then calmly, he stood up, held his head, and slowly walked toward the old man.
Albert noticed Alfonso approaching and began to sweat. Who wants a killer walking toward them, no matter the reason for his crime?For all he knew, he might be today's lucky lottery winner.
"Kaeses… my boy, are you okay? Is there anything I can do for you?" Albert asked, nervous, sweat pouring down his face. He tried to think of any possible response in case Alfonso attacked—but nothing came to mind. He looked around, but who would help him? Probably no one.
"Haaah..."He sighed, realizing his life now depended on the mood of a mad boy.
Then he smiled—the widest smile his mouth could manage."Kaeses… come, sit. Let this old man check your head wound," he said with a tone full of fake warmth and affection.
"Albert... thank God. I need something from you," Alfonso replied, trying to appear tired and hopeless.
"Of course... of course. Sit and tell me," Albert answered gently, attempting to keep Alfonso calm.
Alfonso nodded and sat beside Albert, thinking silently.
Albert was an old man who had been here long before Alfonso arrived in this cell. People came and went—some were transferred, but most died in the death matches above.
Albert didn't participate in the matches. Instead, he worked cleaning the coliseum, moving corpses, and taking care of other chores due to his age.
He also didn't fight over food or bread, yet his belly was larger than everyone else's. This suggested he ate outside. From his hidden disgust toward the food earlier, it seemed the quality of what he ate was much better.
So the question now is: why is a worker placed in the same cell as fighters?
Putting all the pieces together... the most logical conclusion is that he's a spy.
Reporting if there's any escape plan or suspicious activity...
Of course, no one here is unaware of that. Even Albert never tried to hide it, but he wouldn't admit it either.
But there's something only Alfonso had noticed… maybe.
Sometimes, Albert would take a piece of bread and go to his corner before dipping it in the soup.
Other times, he'd donate his portion—after keeping it for a few moments.
"Heh... Obvious he's working with someone outside," Alfonso thought.Everyone who took bread from Albert had a match soon after—and they never returned.
And when he dipped his bread in the soup, it was always in the evening—when everyone would fall into a deep sleep, except those scheduled for night matches.They'd be the only ones to wake up at "God's hour."
Clearly, they used that to win bets.
"Heh. A clever method, but full of holes," Alfonso thought.
"...Albert, my wound isn't healing well. It's getting worse," Alfonso said weakly."I need some herbs… to make medicine."
"...Alfonso, my boy, you know that even if I wanted to, I can't," Albert replied politely, trying not to anger him.
"..."Alfonso stared at Albert's face, leaned back against the wall, and looked straight ahead.
"Albert… did I ever tell you about my origins?"Alfonso had a desire to slice Albert open and shove his guts down his throat—he pictured the scene vividly."You know, my father was a doctor. He loved discovering herbs and making medicine," he said, a soft smile drawn across his face as he imagined Albert's screams.
"Ah... I remember my mother used to bring him food because he'd forget to eat, so absorbed in his research," Alfonso continued spinning his tale, tears finding their way to his eyes.
"He was killed right in front of me by those who stole his research," he said, then slowly turned to Albert, his eyes teary.
"And my mother… do you know what they did to her? She was beautiful. Can you imagine what they did to her? They… they..."He kept spewing lies.
Albert began to feel aroused at the mention of the mother—he was never a good person by any means, though he tried to fake sympathy.
"... I want to survive. I want revenge—on every last one of them."Suddenly, Alfonso's voice turned cold, flames of rage igniting in his eyes.
"I inherited my father's passion and knowledge. I remember every recipe, every herb… and I'm willing to share them with you."Alfonso wiped his tears and placed his hand on Albert's knee.
"Albert, please… bring me the herbs, and I'll prove to you that my father was a genius," he said, reaching the critical part of his plan. That's why he brought up the murder and stolen research—it would make it sound more valuable to Albert.After all, human greed knows no bounds. Everyone has a price, and those who don't can still be priced the right way.
Alfonso believed in a simple principle: There are only two kinds of people—bad ones, and bad ones pretending to be good.
Of course, there are exceptions to every rule, but caution and doubt can save a person's life.
Just as Alfonso had more than one face, everyone could have more than one too.Humans are complex and ever-changing—difficult to predict with precision. The best one can do is create a list of probabilities and rank them by likelihood.
"...Alright, I'll see what I can do," Albert finally agreed.After all, what did he have to lose? If Alfonso was telling the truth, Albert would benefit the most.
"Thank you, Albert… I swear on my father's memory I'll repay you," Alfonso replied with a smile and joy in his voice.Yes—he would repay the favor.
"Heh heh, no problem," Albert said, already thinking about how to get the most out of this situation.
That's humans for you—ask for help and they'll find all the excuses. Show them their benefit...
...and they'll run naked just to buy you clothes.