I woke up the next morning after a sleep that somehow still felt insufficient, despite the exhaustion of the previous day. I washed my face, fixed my appearance in a hurry, then headed out to work as I did every day. The air was cool, and the sun had just begun to filter through the trees — but something about this day felt different, even if I hadn't yet realized what it was.
While I was busy with my tasks, lifting one of the heavy crates with focus, a sudden sharp sound rang through the area — a loud bell, echoing between the walls and carts. I quickly raised my head, glanced left and right, then locked eyes on the source of the noise. There, by the large cart, stood the employer, holding a massive brass bell, ringing it forcefully with a serious face that bore none of his usual joking expressions.
I stopped working, as did many of the other laborers around me. Whispers rose, eyes met in confusion. No one understood what was happening, but we all moved hesitantly toward the cart where the man stood. Something about this scene felt eerily familiar to me — as if I had lived it before... Wait, is this what they call déjà vu? I swallowed hard and kept walking, my mind racing with questions: What does he want? Why is he calling all of us like this?
We lined up in front of the cart, and the chatter slowly died down until silence hung over the area. The employer looked at us for a long moment, then cleared his throat and spoke in a loud voice:
"Ahem, ahem... Now that everyone's gathered, there's something important I need to tell you."
We exchanged tense glances, and he continued:
"A few days ago, a wealthy man from another city came here on some business. He's decided to stay in this area for five days and four nights, and he plans to leave on the evening of next Saturday."
He smiled faintly, though the smile didn't hide the concern in his eyes, then added:
"This man… came to me last night with a strange request. He asked that I assign nine of my workers, along with myself, to form a group of ten. Our mission will be to protect him during his entire stay."
Faces changed. Murmurs rose again, but the employer raised his hand for silence and spoke more seriously:
"He said someone is trying to assassinate him — and he doesn't trust anyone from his political or financial world. He doesn't want hired guards. He wants simple workers, unknown to anyone… and that's why he came to me."
I felt a chill run through me. Assassination? Us? Why? What kind of mission is this — to ask ordinary laborers to do such a thing? I can barely make it through a long workday — how could I protect a man marked for death? This is madness...
"And so," the employer continued, "I'm looking for nine volunteers. Who's willing to join?"
A heavy silence followed. No one moved. Even the wind seemed to stop. My heart began to pound in my chest, and I kept repeating to myself: No. Absolutely not. I won't raise my hand. I'm not cut out for this. No combat skills. No experience. Sure, I have some abilities — but they're weak.
Suddenly… the silence was broken by a hand rising into the air.
Everyone turned to the source of the movement — and there stood Luxian, calm as ever, his hand raised without hesitation, as if it meant nothing to him.
I whispered to myself: This is déjà vu without a doubt... the exact same scene, the same details… Had this already happened? Or… maybe I dreamed it once?
Then, as if some silent signal had been given, hands began to rise one by one.
Knox… then Marcus… then a third worker… a fourth… a fifth… and a sixth...
They all raised their hands — not a hint of fear on their faces. Instead, there was something else — a strange excitement… or perhaps the lure of money, which hadn't even been mentioned yet.
Eight hands now. All of them looked confident in their decision. Only one person left to complete the number.
Yet no one moved.
I looked around… some faces hesitant, others clearly afraid. And me?
I didn't want this. This danger… it wasn't mine.
...
When the employer saw that the hands had stopped and the final volunteer was still missing, he lowered his head for a moment — as if giving us a chance to think — then looked back up and said in a firm but calm voice:
"Perhaps I forgot to mention one thing… The man who asked for our protection promised to pay one thousand dollars to each of the nine workers who agree to accompany him."
A deep silence followed. Only scattered whispers could be heard... then those whispers began to rise like quiet waves among the group:
"What?! A… thousand dollars?!"
"Did you hear that? He said a thousand?!"
"T-That's a huge sum! I haven't made that in months!"
Their words struck my ears like drums.
A thousand dollars?!
Last night, I sat quietly at the inn, eating dinner beside Aunt Melissa, who always asked me how my day went… and little Liana, who always laughed at my silence. I thought I was beginning to find something like stability — something that resembled "life."
But this amount… it could be a real step toward my goal.
If I had it, I could escape the cycle of survival… and enter the realm of choice. I could buy tools, upgrade my abilities, maybe even explore this world with more confidence. I had three abilities now — I wasn't the same person who arrived on day one.
But death… was still real.
As my thoughts clashed inside me, one of the workers broke the silence.
A thin man, usually quiet, raised his hand then lowered it in an instant and said nervously:
"I-I'm sorry. I can't… It's too dangerous…"
Another followed, even more tense:
"Even a thousand dollars isn't worth risking our lives… We're not soldiers…"
Then a third, a fourth — all of them echoed the same message: fear outweighs the money.
I watched them in silence, my heartbeat rising and falling in uneven rhythms — mirroring my own hesitation.
Should I do it?
I looked at my hand… then at Luxian, still standing tall with that confident spark in his eyes, as if waiting for an exciting adventure to begin.
Then at Knox, who glanced at me with a soft look — as if he could sense the conflict within me.
And slowly… as if something inside me moved despite the fear, my hand rose…
Gently, as if it was still unsure whether it was doing the right thing.
I felt the eyes turn toward me — questioning, surprised, maybe even confused.
But I didn't pull back. I raised my hand a little higher — as if declaring something. Not to them… but to myself.
The employer looked at me with a deep gaze, then gave a faint smile — not mocking, not surprised — but something else…
Something like approval.
I swallowed hard, my chest still tight with hesitation.
But somewhere deep inside me… somewhere untouched until now… I felt a small light begin to grow, slowly.
And for the first time since I came to this world…
I felt that what was happening now — what I chose — wasn't just imitation, and not just fate…
It was a step...
That belonged to me alone.