This method of torture was terrifying and precise. Using her supernatural abilities, the woman burned only certain parts of his body from the inside.
"!!!!!!!"
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!'
He was unable to scream. His neck melted along with his throat and trachea, and his blood literally boiled. He felt every fragment of that pain.
It was terribly hot... but, he was lucky to be tied up. Most likely, if he could move, he would have torn his own neck apart with his bare hands.
"...!!!"
The skin on his neck turned dark purple, with rapidly growing blisters. They swelled and then burst, resembling boiling oil.
"..." The woman barely moved her clasped fingers upward.
The flame that had scorched his throat moved higher.
"!!!"
He felt his tongue and his entire mouth burning now.
Now he was really starting to go crazy.
...
The questions and the process of burning from the inside were repeated.
Again.
The questions. The burning.
Again...
His stomach, intestines, esophagus, lungs, and eyes were burned. Then the man standing aside took another dead animal, restored the prisoner completely, and everything started...
All over again.
Now there was only one rat carcass left in his suitcase.
"…" Saliva flowed uncontrollably from his mouth, and his tearful eyes stared into the void.
The woman was about to conduct the final session, but before she could, the man grabbed her shoulder.
"Why not check his mark? There may not be another chance."
The woman listened to him and noticed the hand on her shoulder.
"I won't burn it now, only because your supplies are almost exhausted. Consider this a warning."
"I apologize..." he replied and quickly removed his hand.
"Dum, this seems to be your area of expertise. Get to work."
"With pleasure..." replied the old man, flexing his fingers. "Partisan pigs always hide the black symbol in plain sight. Usually on the shoulder, chest, or thigh. The tattoos themselves may vary depending on rank, but the black color is a constant."
"..." Meanwhile, Mr. Nobody sat almost motionless, and his eyes rolled back.
He was hardly here at that moment.
The mustachioed old man first checked the prisoner's arms and thighs for a distinctive mark. Finding nothing of the sort, doubt flashed in his eyes, and he proceeded to bare the man's chest.
The doubt was instantly replaced by... confusion?
"Miss Boss of Havoc Path, I don't understand something..." the old man addressed the woman. "What am I seeing now?"
All three stared at the captive's bare chest.
Reborn in this body, there was a gaping hole in his chest, and his heart was completely missing. By some divine miracle, the wound had vanished, and the heart grew back... But now there was something else there.
In place of the heart was a symbol, but not quite what the three had expected.
They watched the strange symbol with disbelief until the old man said what was on everyone's mind.
"Is that the symbol... of the Champion?"
Silence was his only response.
The old man thoughtfully scratched his gray hair for a couple of seconds, then began to think aloud.
"Bond, you belong to, kid. Havoc — Miss Boss, Fortitude, which still hasn't left me... and Solitude. The old man looked at his companions in bewilderment. "Four out of six. If my memory serves me correctly, the Champions of the every Peak have long been known, even the one of Solitude... Only the Champion of our Peak of Knowledge has been chosen, but remains hidden due to events known to all."
The old man smiled incredulously.
"Is it possible that we are torturing the precious offspring of our Lord?"
"…"
Contempt and anger began to flash in the woman's and the old man's eyes at the disrespect shown... After all, of course, it was impossible.
And yet, before they poured out their indignation on the captive again, the blue-eyed man shook his head.
"That's not Knowledge. Remember the myth about the creation of man and all living creatures in his image?" He began to gesticulate, pointing to parts of his body. "Knowledge is the brain and head, Bond is the hands and blood, Fortitude is the skeleton and spine, Solitude is the legs, Havoc is the body shape and skin…"
"Then what's on his chest, kid?" the old man asked in confusion.
It was as if he genuinely didn't understand… or simply couldn't believe it.
The other man hesitated, but then said. "Heart... Dream. It's the symbol of the Champion of the... Peak of Dream."
"..."
"..."
All eyes turned back to the prisoner with the strange symbol. The emotions in their eyes changed to something unrecognizable.
They were terrible creatures who did insanely cruel things... But even such people resembled children for a moment.
And these children seemed to be witnesses to events from a beloved fairy tale that had come to life.
Their reaction was understandable.
Dream is the only Peak without a Champion. Everyone knows that. Everyone.
"...?" The prisoner noticed the strange looks directed at him... or rather, at his chest.
Saliva dripped down his chin onto a strange symbol.
This symbol was a star. It resembled a real star.
It would be almost impossible for a human or a machine to create such a tattoo.
"..." At that moment, something strange — something beyond explanation — appeared in his clouded gaze.
It was not like an idea or a pure thought. It was a feeling.
Was it possible that his rebirth had really given him some kind of advantage?
Was it true that... Was it true that the endless torture could end?
"H-h…?" An exhausted but cautious and very excited sigh escaped his mouth.
This symbol was undoubtedly impressive in appearance, but...
It was very faded, gray, and almost colorless. It looked like a pitiful imitation of the Champion's symbol.
"H-h-h... Hahahaha!" The old man was the first to lose his composure and laugh.
"Hmph." A thin, contemptuous smile graced the woman's face.
Realizing the absurdity of the assumption, the blue-eyed man couldn't help himself and also began to laugh, pressing his hand to his face.
"Hahahaha!"
"... " The man known as Mr. Nobody hardly understood anything now. Only a feeling of indescribable despair enveloped his heart once again.
Only the ringing, malicious, and contemptuous laughter of people in formal suits rolled in waves through his head and caused even more pain.
"Hahahaha! Who would have thought that the most long-awaited figure for the whole world would appear right in front of us!"
Cackling, the old man began pounding his shoulder with his steel-gloved hand.
"We waited a hundred years, and finally, the most mysterious Peak made its choice! But who would have thought that the Champion of Dream would be a damn huckster?!"
"…!!!" His eyes bulged from another wave of pain.
The old man hit him so hard that his shoulder couldn't take it and cracked, starting to shake.
"My generation, the generation before me... Everyone dreamed of this! Tell us, little piggy, when will the Champions' Games begin?!" The old man wouldn't let up.
"Dum, it's time to wrap up. The tide is coming in soon," the woman reminded him calmly.
"Yes, yes... But, Miss Boss, let us have one more round. This little piggy has amused me greatly. I don't want to let him go so soon."
"...Just one."
"Did you hear her, little pig?"
The old man ran his fingers over his cheek and leaned closer to his ear.
"We still have a little game to play... But don't worry. I promise... you will not die of it. Even if you ask me to kill you."
"...!!!"
"You'll be the one to end yourself, little pig. And I promise… I promise you that."
Of all the things he had ever heard, this promise was the most frightening.