69novels Chapter 115 Cyclic Ascent
Chapter 115 Cyclic Ascent
Chapter 115 Cyclic Ascent
You can close your eyes, you can cover your ears.
But to live, one must breathe, and the nose must always be kept clear.
The sour smell of sweat, the putrid smell of vomit, the stench of feces and urine—
These unpleasant odors, all mixed together, irresistibly entered the nasal cavity and were inhaled into the body.
No sane person would believe they could tolerate such a smell.
However, given enough time to survive in such dire circumstances, humans are fully capable of adapting to anything.
Even smelling these extremely disgusting odors can be as natural as smelling the fragrance of a lady's neck.
For example, he's already used to it.
He didn't know where he was, why he was there, or what fate awaited him.
In this shaky, cramped space, there was almost no light.
All that could be heard were the breathing, groans, and sobs of other victims in similar distress.
But if he put his head close to the curved wooden wall, he could hear the sound of water splashing.
Therefore, he could barely tell that he was on a longship.
He came to this conclusion on his very first day here.
But simply mastering these things is meaningless.
He has tried many things these days.
However, no matter how much he cried, begged, cursed, or threatened, it was all to no avail.
His mindset was also subtly changing.
He was initially bewildered, then panicked, and then despaired.
Now, all that's left is numbness.
He almost forgot who he was.
Therefore, he had to weakly murmur his name from time to time, trying to awaken his sleeping, dying soul, "Chris—."
"The Conman Chris"
"Christopher Gamma—"
"Chris."
1
Chris remembered that day; he was humming a tune as he rode his horse when he was suddenly shot by a stray arrow.
He was also hit on the head with a club, and when he woke up, he found himself in this pitch-black space.
The back of his head still hurts.
But he was also grateful for the pain, which made him certain that he was still alive.
Over the past few days, through conversations with other prisoners held here, Chris has learned more about who kidnapped him.
He was kidnapped by a group of slave traders, and this place was also a slave ship.
Slave traders did not only sell slaves; they also abducted people and created slaves.
It is indeed an era of the rise of the slave industry, and most of the slaves are green-eyed people.
The green-eyed slaves were cheap and of good quality. Chris couldn't understand why these slave traders would go to such lengths to abduct people from the continent of Ancent and enslave them.
Other prisoners told him that they would be sent to the permafrost continent and used as a “comparison.”
Chris didn't understand the specific meaning of "comparison," but one thing he was certain of.
For him, it was by no means a good fate.
destiny-
Fortune and misfortune are unpredictable; fate is fickle.
Chris believes that fate is either cyclical or ascending.
Only by breaking the cycle can one rise.
The first cycle he broke brought him wealth he could never have imagined before.
However, when he faced the second cycle...
That boy, Chris thought with certainty, is definitely the cycle of my fate!
Chris regretted not killing the boy immediately, otherwise he wouldn't have ended up in Griffith Plains and been captured by slave traders on the coastal trail.
Instead, he would take a bag of gold and live a wealthy life in some town.
His hundred gold coins had already been stolen, along with the book.
Chris learned how to interpret fate from the book "The Guide to Destiny".
And through the methods described in the book, he received a hint about fate: his left eye.
However, Chris did not understand the meaning behind this hint.
These days, Chris is trying to use that method to reinterpret fate.
But the clue remained unchanged, still indicating "left eye".
Does the method in the book only provide one hint at a time?
Chris should have studied the theoretical parts more carefully.
Alternatively, you can read the later parts of the book to learn more advanced interpretation techniques.
In this way, he might be able to know a more accurate future.
It's a pity no.
Everything happened so suddenly.
And getting that book back is virtually impossible.
Those slave traders refused to communicate; if you tried to talk to them, you would get whipped in the face.
Having heard those screams, Chris would never be foolish enough to try it himself.
Moreover, that book was very likely discarded by these ignorant slave traders, perhaps even thrown into the sea.
Therefore, for now, we can only put that incomprehensible "left eye" aside.
Chris never considered going to the frozen continent; he didn't want to set foot on that cold, barren land.
He didn't want to become a slave without a self.
If he wants to change things, he must do something.
A farmer without a hoe cannot till the land, and a warrior without a sword cannot fight.
The slave traders were very careful and confiscated almost all of his personal belongings.
However, despite their meticulous planning, they overlooked one crucial detail: they failed to confiscate Chris's tongue.
He is a con artist, and his tongue is his weapon; he can fight even in a dark, murky room!
Chris quickly used his persuasive tongue to convince the other prisoners.
They were made to believe that as long as they followed Chris, they would surely gain their freedom.
However, in reality, it was all a hoax; he never intended to save anyone but himself.
Chris would do anything to regain his freedom, even trample everyone underfoot.
Chris understood perfectly well that these unarmed slaves, whose will and bodies were weak and vulnerable, could not possibly defeat the slave traders equipped with sharp weapons by force.
From the very beginning, all he believed in was his own deception.
The basis for fraud is sufficient intelligence.
He ordered the other prisoners to use their fingernails to dig holes in the hull.
If a hole could be dug out of the hull with a fingernail in a short time, it would be large enough for an adult to pass through.
This ship is certainly unable to withstand the huge waves.
But Chris's goal wasn't to dig a tunnel to escape. He had a hole dug directly above the cabin, or even just thinned the planks so Chris could eavesdrop on conversations on deck.
These days, we are already seeing initial results.
With the prisoners lifting him up, he could hear what was happening above by pressing his ear against the area.
Now, all that's missing is usable intelligence.
Chris had been eavesdropping for several days, but he still hadn't gotten anywhere.
There was no sign of the ships sailing; the group of slave traders seemed to have stopped in this cold sea for some reason.
Without change, the conversations Chris would hear would undoubtedly be nothing more than the same old mundane chatter day after day.
Fortunately, patience is an essential quality for a con artist. Now, we must patiently wait for the changes to happen and for intelligence to emerge.
Suddenly, the cell door was pushed open, and the slave trader threw in a limp person.
It's safe to say this person was an unlucky fellow who happened to be passing by the sea and was targeted by slave traders.
Chris had himself lifted up so he could listen to the conversation.
Unfortunately, I still didn't hear anything of value.
He could only lean against the corner and continue waiting.
In this place where day and night are indistinguishable, only a dim oil lamp provides the limited light.
Chris had long since lost track of how many days he had been inside.
His spirits were becoming increasingly low, and no matter how long he slept, he would still feel sleepy and tired.
Chris's eyelids felt as heavy as weights as his back had barely touched the tilting deck when he couldn't lift them at all.
Before he knew it, He Wen started to doze off.
In my dream, I felt like I was in a monastery.
He had never believed in any gods, yet all the gods he had blasphemed surrounded him.
He raised the wooden awl, ready to drive it into Chris's head.
The thumping sounds disturbed his peace of mind and filled him with panic.
No matter how humbly he begged for mercy, the gods showed no intention of letting him go.
"Awake-.-"
"Wake up!"
Chris woke up with a start. He seemed to hear someone calling him and shaking his body.
He opened his eyes, but the action was unnecessary, as the light was too dim.
Chris asked, "What's wrong?"
"There's movement up there!"
Upon hearing this, Chris immediately stood up.
He called upon the crowd to lift himself up.
When he put his ear to the listening area, he immediately heard a flurry of footsteps.
The boots thumped against the deck, and Chris understood why he had had that dream.
A large group of people boarded the ship, Chris analyzed, and the change was finally coming.
He strained to hear every word of the conversation and not miss a single detail.
"Damn it, why did the boss suddenly tell us to change course and come to Griffith Grassland?"
The speaker's voice was high-pitched.
His response was a gruff voice: "How should I know? Damn it, who would want to come to Griffith Plains to sell slaves if it weren't for the boss's orders?"
Then came a few hoarse male voices: "All slave traders know that Griffith's slaves are worthless!"
"Yes," said the shrill voice, "the Griffith Plains are for herding sheep, but these green-eyed people don't know how. The herders here would be better off with half a sheepdog than them!"
"Who can argue with that? Although the green-eyed people can take care of their masters' daily needs, a herding family only needs one slave. The more slaves they keep, the more mouths they have to feed," the rough-voiced man sighed.
"That's why I arrived here so late," he said in a hoarse voice. "The Griffith Plains are vast and sparsely populated, with hardly any herding families. I had to travel to several ports before a small town there agreed to sell my goods, and even then, I had to use a lot of persuasive words!"
"And the prices are ridiculously low, less than half of what they are elsewhere," the shrill voice said. "All the slaves have been sold, and we've barely broken even. If they were shipped to the frozen continent, we'd be making a fortune right now."
"But since the boss has made the request and issued the transfer order, what can we do? Sigh," the rough-voiced man said with a hint of helplessness.
With a hoarse, clicking voice, he exclaimed, "Pfft! To live under someone else's roof means having to be subservient to them, it's fucking humiliating!"
With a gruff voice and a contemptuous tone, he said, "What's the use of complaining? Can you abandon your boss? Do you think you captains are doing well? Why did you join the slave king's ranks? Are you just looking for trouble? You're after his resources! Without him as your backer, we wouldn't even be able to cross the Sea of Despair!"
The hoarse voice softened considerably: "What, you won't let me complain anymore? Of course I understand, Valen is the only one in power now, and everyone needs him. But why did you have to suddenly make us change our route? Doesn't that mean all the hard work we've done for the past six months has been for nothing!"
"I didn't earn a single ounce of gold, which is really disheartening. I had planned to indulge myself for two or three months after this trip, but then this happened..."
My plans are all ruined. If I don't set off immediately for the next trip, I won't even be able to afford to feed the sailors on the ship. But—"
He spoke in a rough voice, then suddenly changed the subject, lowered his voice, and said rather mysteriously,
"Have you heard about that?"
The high-pitched voice immediately responded, "What is it?"
"I heard—Valen has gone missing!"
"Oh, I've heard about that too," the shrill voice said, "but it's definitely a rumor. We've all received Warren's transfer order. If Warren really disappeared, how do you explain this order?"
"The strange thing is the transfer order," the gruff voice replied. "Think about it, Valen is known as the Slave King. Who knows more about slaves than him? He certainly knows that slaves don't fetch a good price on Griffith Plains, so why would he send us to this area to sell them?"
The hoarse voice chimed in, "I also felt something was off. Think back, we went to visit Valen that day, partly to curry favor with him, and partly to see if he really was a one-eyed man. In the end, we came up empty-handed. We still haven't seen the true face of that slave king!"
“In any case,” the shrill voice said, “that transfer order is real; it has the slave king’s seal on it.”
Despite his hoarse voice, he persisted: "But even so, why didn't he see us and hand us this transfer order in person?"
1
The rough-voiced man offered his guess: "Perhaps this transfer order is forged; someone stole Valen's seal!"
"Hmph!" a shrill voice chuckled. "His seal is lost. Doesn't Valen send people to look for it, or inform his crew?"
"But even if you say that," the hoarse voice stubbornly insisted, "I also think that the order that brought us to Griffith Plains was very unreasonable."
"Enough," the shrill voice said impatiently. "No matter how you speculate, you'll never know what Valen is thinking, nor will you know the truth. You might as well think about how to make more gold."
With a hoarse voice, he scoffed, "Hmph! You make it sound so simple. We've sold all the slaves, where are we going to make money?"
"hehe,"
It chuckled in a high-pitched voice, sounding somewhat like a fox's cry.
"You know what, I actually have connections!"
"Oh? Tell me about it!" the gruff voice asked hastily.
"Let's grab some locals on the Griffith Plains and sell them to the permafrost continent!"
The hoarse voice replied, "That simply won't work. These days, who needs slaves other than green-eyed people?"
The shrill voice said, "Others might not want them, but the wizards of the frozen continent might. They need slaves, but never for labor. And in recent years, slaves other than green-eyed people have been scarce, so prices are at their peak!"
After that, Chris heard them fall silent for a while, clearly weighing the options for the shrill voice.
Until a rough voice spoke: "However, this raises a problem: we didn't consult Valen about this operation."
"Get his consent."
"Idiots," the shrill voice cursed, "we joined Valen's ranks only because we coveted his resources on the Sea of Despair. As long as we're not in that waters, we don't care what he thinks!"
With a hoarse voice and a worried tone, he said, "But what if the boss finds out—"
"—So we're just going to the frozen continent to have a few chilled drinks," the shrill voice said slyly. "We've already carried out this job according to Valen's orders, and we're free to go wherever we want until the next job begins!"
Then there was a brief silence, followed by a rough voice asking:
"Have you thought this through carefully? Is this plan really feasible?"
The shrill voice chuckled, "Hehe, to be honest, while I was waiting for you, I caught quite a few!"
"It's on your ship right now?!" a hoarse voice asked in surprise.
"Of course, but—"
"But what?" the rough voice hurriedly asked.
"I'm afraid we should set off immediately," the shrill voice said.
With a hoarse voice, he asked, "Why?"
"I've captured quite a few slaves, and I imagine there have been a lot of missing persons in the nearby towns recently. I've seen cavalry patrolling the roads these past few days; they're probably already watching me."
The high-pitched voice spoke in a calm tone.
"If we continue our crimes and are discovered, warships may come to attack us."
"You son of a bitch!" the hoarse voice roared, "Then why did you tell us all this! You made me happy for nothing! Are you playing me for a fool?!"
"Don't get excited," the shrill voice said. "The reason I'm telling you this is to ask you to come with me."
"What for?" the gruff voice said irritably. "To watch you count your money?"
The high-pitched voice explained, "The Sea of Crying Gorge is not peaceful right now. I'm a little worried about going there alone in my boat. So, I'd like to ask you to come along. Of course, I won't let you go for nothing. I'll share some of the money I earn with you."
"How much will we get?" the remaining two asked in unison.
The shrill voice said, "You'll each get 20%."
In the silence, Chris heard hesitation.
Immediately, the two gave their answer:
"It's a deal!"
"Ha," the shrill voice chuckled, "then let's go."
"Huh?" a rough voice asked, puzzled. "So soon?"
"Who knows if the warships are on their way," the shrill voice said. "Besides, I'd rather spend the gold in a prostitute's bed than waste time at sea."
"Haha!" He laughed hoarsely a few times. "That makes sense!"
Hearing this, Chris took a deep breath.
Depart? Now?
This was definitely bad news for Chris.
Once they set sail, even if Chris comes up with an idea, implementing it will become very difficult.
Without a well-thought-out plan and thorough preparation, the biggest mistake a scam can make is giving the victim too much time to think.
If they think carefully, they will always be able to find the loopholes in this scam.
Therefore, fraudsters must act swiftly and decisively, leaving the scene as soon as they achieve their goal.
However, if Chris were on the sea, even if he managed to deceive the slave traders, he would have nowhere to go and would be in a very passive situation.
However, if he were to arrive on the frozen continent, he would immediately be sold as a slave to those wizards.
Based on the descriptions given by the three people on deck, Chris knew he would never like that outcome.
The people of the permafrost continent seem to use a different language.
In other words, Chris's prized tongue was of no use on that continent!
Therefore, Chris must immediately devise a plan to commit fraud and put it into practice in order to turn the situation around.
Calm down! Chris told himself, calm down!
Chris asked the person beneath him to put him down, and he sat back in the corner, beginning to concentrate on thinking.
The conversation I overheard this time was indeed full of information.
However, it is very time-consuming and laborious to filter out the distractions and select the useful information from these statements.
However, there wasn't much time right now, and Chris had to finish the job as quickly as possible.
And then organize this information into a clear narrative, piecing it together into a complete scam.
He closed his eyes and recalled what he had just heard:
Slaves, Green-Eyed People, Griffith Plains, Low Price, Transfer Order, Slave King, Valen, Missing, New World, Wizard—
Think quickly! Think quickly! What's the use of this information!
Chris racked his brains, but he still had no clue.
This amount of time is simply not enough!
Chris was filled with despair. Was this truly the end for him?
Fate is either cyclical or ascending.
Chris is trapped in a cycle because he missed his chance to kill the boy.
"Damn brat!" Chris swore to himself, "Next time we meet, I'll kill you!"
However, at this point, no matter how much he vented his anger on others, it would be of no use.
Why is Chris clutching his head, angrily thinking that he had only just begun to believe in fate, yet he is facing such an end?
And that book, "The Guide to Destiny Interpretation," what a piece of garbage!
What's the use of just telling me about the "left eye"?
Now that things have come to this, what connection does his fate have whatsoever with his "left eye"?
Thinking of this, Chris's body trembled violently.
He suddenly realized that the destiny he had deciphered according to "The Guide to Destiny Interpretation" might not be an illusion.
The interpretation of the "left eye" might have already reached Chris's side. Chris remembered that he had just heard the three men say that the slave king, Warren, had disappeared, and the three of them seemed to have never met Warren before.
If Chris remembers correctly, they mentioned that Warren was a one-eyed man!
Could it be—Chris's teeth chattered with fear, and he swallowed hard—that Valen was missing his left eye?
Thinking about this, Chris suddenly understood the instructions for the interpretation.
Chris is a con artist; he can use his skillful rhetoric to deceive anyone and make them believe that he is playing a real person.
If he were to play Warren, he is confident that he can do the role well.
The only problem is that Valen is a one-eyed man.
And this is the instruction given by the interpretation.
Chris has two choices:
Either give up your life;
Either give up your left eye!
Anyone with a modicum of common sense knows how to choose.
Besides, Chris is a shrewd conman.
He lowered his head and, in the dim light, looked at his trembling hands.
At that moment, Chris heard himself involuntarily let out a groan of fear.
But time waits for no one, and he had to hurry.
He raised his left hand and stretched it towards his face.
My left hand was trembling uncontrollably, and the tips of my fingers were getting bigger and bigger.
Until his index and middle fingers were pressed against his eye sockets, if the light were any brighter, he could even see his spiral fingerprints clearly.
He began to exert force, and his eyeballs felt the pressure.
"Aha ah ah—"
Chris couldn't help but let out a scream of fear.
Fate is not a cycle.
He continued to strain, and a pain shot through the depths of his eyeball.
However, his body instinctively resisted.
It means rising...
He gritted his teeth, letting out a low growl.
As he continued to exert force, half of his vision became blurred, and the pain became increasingly pronounced.
Tears began to stream from the corners of his eyes.
The interpretation reveals that the "left eye" represents the cycle of fate—
As his fingers continued to penetrate deeper into his eye socket, the pain became increasingly excruciating. Chris felt suffocated and suddenly experienced a strong wave of nausea.
He opened his mouth and began to gag.
If one's destiny is to rise, the cycle must be broken.
"ah--
Chris screamed and then suddenly exerted force.
Then, his mind went blank.
Chris fainted from the pain.
When he woke up, the throbbing pain in his eye sockets made him feel as if the left side of his head was swollen.
"Ahhh~"
He let out a groan, his voice trembling and weak.
Chris looked down and saw that he was holding a bloody eyeball with blood vessels and muscles still attached in his hand.
He wanted to let out a scream of fear, but the pain in his eye sockets distracted him from his thoughts.
Finally, he burst into laughter:
"Haha—hahaha—"
He was in so much pain that he kept hitting his head with his other hand, and he felt like biting something.
Then, without thinking, he put his left hand into his mouth and began to chew.
Only then did Chris belatedly realize that he was eating his own eye.
But it was this action that brought him to his senses.
It's not over yet, Chris thought. I can't lose an eye for nothing!
He believes he has broken the cycle by following the guidance of the interpretation.
Therefore, he is destined for a rise in status!
At this moment, Chris became incredibly confident.
He leaned against the wall and stood up.
He then realized that everyone was staring at him.
They stared, dumbfounded, yet dared not even breathe.
These people must have been terrified by Chris's actions just now.
"Hmph," Chris sneered.
Chris tore two strips of cloth from his clothes.
A crumpled piece of dough was stuffed into the eye socket to stop the bleeding.
The other one was used as an eye mask and tied to the head.
Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, he ran and knelt down towards the prison cell door.
Then he knocked loudly: "Open the door!"
A moment later, someone opened the door and threatened:
"Do you want to die?!"
Chris slapped the other person across the face: "You're the one who wants to die!"
Regarding the other party's mistake, Chris said:
"Look closely, I am your captain's boss, the slave king, Valen!"
Fate is either cyclical or ascending—Chris thought—I must break all cycles!