A Worsening Body

Ah… ha… breathing…

Thump-thump.

My body feels… so heavy…

Thump-thump.

What on earth am I…

Thump-thump—

It was the sound of my heartbeat that pulled my consciousness awake.

Opening my heavy eyelids, I saw only the hazy flicker of oil lamps in my blurred field of vision.

“Ah… ha… cough, cough, cough!”

Before my senses could fully clarify, a violent fit of coughing physically dragged me out of my dream state.

My body is burning, and the coughing won’t stop. What is wrong with me…

Leaning against the wall behind me, I turned my head to survey the area illuminated by the lamps while my peripheral vision caught the marks carved into the wall.

Two groups of six vertical lines crossed by a horizontal one, plus an extra stroke.

The… fifteenth day… Yes, I remember now.

Three days ago, my body began showing ill symptoms, and today, the sickness finally broke out in full force. Normally, I would never close my eyes before the scheduled sleep time; I wouldn’t let a single movement in the warehouse escape me. But today… I had to surrender to my body.

How long did I sleep? My last memory was… the noise. Was that around noon? In other words, I slept through the entire afternoon. This is just… terrible—

“When is the shift change for the others?”

“Same as usual, night.”

Just as a complaint formed in my mind, the voices of approaching crew members reached my ears. Raising my head slowly, I realized that the two crewmen carrying dinner had already arrived outside the cage.

If I were healthy, I would have noticed them the moment they entered the warehouse.

“Disgusting! I hate this job, this warehouse is revolting!”

“Faster, complaining is useless.”

Without realizing it, I’ve gradually begun to understand them—the language of the snake-men. Though I’m still some distance away from being able to extract truly useful information from their words. After all, the only time I can study their speech is during this brief dinner window; at any other time, not a single crew member comes down here, nor would they ever want to.

“Yours!”

Despite cursing the work, he performed the task diligently. The snake-man scooped several ladles of grain porridge, pouring it into the large bowl in front of me. He didn’t stop until it was full.

“Thank you… (in the snake-man language).”

“Tch.”

My voice was raspy as I attempted their tongue, but the only response was a look of pure loathing. Even after nearly half a month, their attitude toward me remains one of disgust. Or rather… their attitude toward “humans.”

On the other side, my cellmates were not treated so well. They were still subjected to a large ladle of porridge being splashed over their heads and bodies, forming puddle after puddle on the ground. They were exactly as they were the first day I saw them, licking the floor desperately, but I no longer mocked them.

“Let’s go!” “Hurry up!”

After scattering the “feed,” the two snake-men, unable to stand the warehouse’s stench, left in a hurry. Until they were gone, I didn’t touch a drop of the porridge in my bowl.

Gurgle gurgle…

Even though my stomach was roaring.

“That, meow…”

“Eat… what’s on the floor… cough, cough, cough!”

Common Tongue.

It is a language used to facilitate communication between different races; generally, if you can speak Common, you’ll have no trouble traveling through this world. Of course, knowing a specific race’s language is better, as a mother tongue naturally brings a sense of warmth.

If I want to build a relationship with someone, learning their specific language cannot be neglected.

“Cough, cough! Take it…”

Forcing back a violent urge to cough, I pushed the bowl full of porridge toward her.