Heroes to Hunted

The room fell quiet, despite being loud with anticipation.

Many expressions, ranging from fear to intrigue, possessed my countrymen as they waited for his words.

I, too, was maddeningly curious. However, unlike my countrymen, I kept my muscles relaxed and my eyes focused.

My exterior had been the polar opposite of the storm of emotion brewing underneath my skin.

The old man took a breath and threw his arms to either side, exaggerating a sense of excitement.

"You, by which I mean all of you, have been selected as sacred warriors of humanity! Heroes!" His face became solemn, though I wasn't sure it was genuine. "I'm sad that none of which I could say about your location would have any significant value to any of you."

"And why the hell is that?!" An unfamiliar voice left the crowd.

"Well," the old man raised his arms towards the ceiling, "it's because none of you are in the world you've lived in anymore!"

I knocked on my ear twice, thinking I still had some fire lodged there.

'Did I hear that correctly?' I was sure he claimed we weren't on Earth. I must've misheard him because that would have been a ridiculous thing to say. He looked serious enough about it, but that would mean he was delusional rather than a simple liar.

What would he stand to gain from such a bald-faced lie? If they were pulling a ruse, a more believable story would suit them better.

Whatever it was, the fact remained that my new wounds mysteriously vanished for no logical reason. I also wondered if there was an explanation for the pain earlier.

The crowd shared my skepticism; murmurs of unease and discontent erupted from them. Amongst them was the young woman. "Not… in the same world?" She covered her mouth in shock. "What does that even mean?"

"Why exactly as it sounds, Miss." The old man grinned. "From our past interactions, we've learned the heroes we summon are actually of another world!" Then, falling one of his bony fingers on us, he narrowed his eyes. "Your world."

"T-that's stupid!" The young woman swung her arm towards the old man.

"You realize that you'd have to prove that, right?! If we're in another world, why can we understand you right now?!"

pαпdα Йᴏνê|,сòМ Her challenge didn't deter the old man. On the contrary, it only appeared to excite him more. "Of course!" He performed the flourish of a bow. "But first, would you do me the honor of enlightening me about your name, Miss?"

Her body shivered at his request.

I could understand why. If a delusional old man clad in cosplay asked for my name, some red flags would be set off for me too.

"W-What?" She questioned, taking a step back in hesitation. "Why?"

"I'm simply curious." The old man replied. "Now, if you would indulge me…." He beckoned to her with his bony fingers, further adding to the creepiness of his request.

She took time to consider it, pondering with a hand to her mouth.

Several moments later, she nodded and relaxed her shoulders, a sign her resolve was strengthened. "Fine, my name is Agawa Sayaka, alright? Now answer my question!"

"Of course, Ms. Agawa! To start, I'd like to state that summoning you all has three side effects."

The old man raised a closed hand, lifting a finger with each new listing.

"First, the ritual provides you with the ability of 'heroic interpretation.' It's a unique ability that allows you to understand the speech patterns and meanings within any sophisticated language. Second, any item the spell perceives as a weapon is automatically discarded."

The second part saddened me. New world or not, they admitted to disposing of my weapon. Would I really never hold that gun again?

Though I hated firing it, that weapon was infused with the memories of my comrades. It was an emotional tether that kept me human through all of the killings, ironically enough.

The old man's body trembled with excitement at the last listing. "To answer the third, allow me to ask my own question."please visit panda-:)ɴᴏᴠᴇ1.co)m

Impatience grew on Agawa's face, but she held in any protest.

Likewise, the rest of our group joined in her agitation. Yet not one uttered a syllable against the old man's evasion. On the contrary, we waited obediently for his following words.

"Before you appeared in this room," he continued, "you all experienced an excruciating sensation originating from your chests, correct?" He gestured to his heart.

Scattered gasps accompanied by stunned expressions followed his inquiry. They all clearly knew what he'd been talking about. I, too, was anxious they tinkered with my body.

Still, it felt reassuring that we might discover the reason for the pain. Phantom injuries were terrifying for people like me; you never knew how they might manifest later on.

"You bastard…" Another from the crowd stepped forward. "What the hell did you do to us?! I'll give you five seconds to convince me not to beat the answers I want out of you..." He flexed his fingers, echoing the sound of cracking knuckles.

Like the young woman, he appeared to be in his late teens or early twenties. I wouldn't say he looked to be a hopeful new member of society, though.

His theme was very "punky" in nature. Between the column of earrings that pierced his right ear, torn jeans, and baggy black hoodie, I could tell he was a hooligan.

"You misunderstand, sir," the old man replied, "we simply performed a ritual to summon you. That pain you felt was your second heart awakening from dormancy! An unfortunate but minor side-effect."

"MINOR?!" The punk yelled. "That 'side effect' was way beyond minor! And a 'second heart,' what the hell is that? You better make sense soon," he glared with murderous intent, "restraint isn't my strong suit."

His threats weren't adequate, given how the old man kept his calm demeanor. "It isn't surprising you don't understand what I'm speaking of. However, no unawareness will change that all living beings are born with the organ." He shook his head and sighed.

"Ohhh," A smirk appeared on the punk's face, "why don't you tell us what this 'second heart' does then? Given you're such an expert and all."

"As you wish, dear hero." the old man said with a bow. "You are aware of the functions of your normal heart, correct?"

The punk impatiently nodded.

"Wonderful!" the old man exclaimed with raised hands."Well, your second heart acts the same way as your physical one. The difference is that it regulates the flow of mana rather than blood. It's because of it that all creatures can produce extraordinary phenomena!"

The punk crossed his arms behind his head. "...and? Even if I did believe you, what's this got to do with the 'side effect'?"

"It's all straightforward, really." The old man shrugged. "Mana seems to lack form in your world, so your second heart had no need to materialize and thus remained dormant. That is," he paused, "until now."

The punk stomped forward, prompting the cloaked figures around the old man to ready themselves.

"You're pissing me off, old man!" the punk swiped at the distance between them. "I told you to start making sense, remember? What the hell was that pain?! Last chance!" He assumed a pouncing stance.

As much as I hated it, I'd need to intervene if this escalated. I couldn't allow a civilian to do the fighting. I had no weapons, but my training should've been enough against them. After all, close-quarters combat was my specialty.

The tension in my body slackened as I rotated my shoulders and legs. In these situations, a cramp or pulled muscle was the difference between life and death.

"Hmmm," the old man pulled at his beard while he pondered, "how about I explain it with a metaphor, then?" He cocked his head to the side, pointing at his wrinkled ear. "Suppose a man is born deaf. Now imagine that just as the man gains his ability to hear, he is subjected to the loudest sound possible. I imagine the man would be in quite a bit of pain."

Most of the audience furrowed their brows in confusion, but the metaphor made complete sense. Although that was only if what he said was true about the 'second heart.'

Like the rest of my countrymen, I was nowhere near convinced.

"Mana? Second heart?" Agawa laughed in frustration. "The more you talk, the less sense you make! By mana…you mean magic, right?" She took a deep breath, dramatically emphasizing what she said next. "Magic. Doesn't. Exist! It's FICTIONAL! Make belief! Even kids know this!"

Seemingly nothing could spur the old man; even after being so belittled, he maintained his composure. "On the contrary, Ms. Agawa. In your world, magic may have been completely vacant from daily life. But here," he grinned again, "I assure you it's quite real."

His confidence stoked Agawa's irritation. "Then why don't you prove it then? So far, you've just been talking. Let's see you actually do something! If everything you've said is true, then you can perform some magic trick with the flick of your hand, right?"

"Very well," he said, handing the book he'd been holding to one of his associates.

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