Glitch

Nineteen! Training Sessions

Carmine's POV

Wrong.

Everything was just wrong.

The most significant part of the history are the two realms. It was a result of a spell cast by an anonymous wizard with the knowledge and permission of the King in order to distinguish the weak and poor from the powerful and wealthy.

We were banned here just because of our worthlessness in value.

Well... certainly the King of this era is trash, and the villagers need to be treated with more respect, they should not just be treated as peasants because they lacked money and power.

That aside, there is no such thing as common man in the history of both the Labyrinth and the City. But irregulars on the other hand, are simply put - the worst type of people according to Serena.

None of them cared about the lives of people in both the Village and City. They just absolutely did wherever, Damien was the most insufferable of them all. He did literally whatever he wanted to and once tried to kill the King and his entire row of advisors before.

Confliction best describes what I feel now. The two old men had said Damien even though he had his flaws, was a very good man. The opposite of what is in the written history. It makes sense that the Villagers react to me the way they do, I would too after reading all these nasty things about myself.

And even if it isn't the truth, does that mean... someone corrupted and changed the history? Rewiring the memories of the villagers?

Sucks to be me.

Even if I were to try and persuade them into believing I'm not a bad person, they'll only look down on me like gum beneath their shoes, or like a bug meant to step on and squash the living daylight out of it.

Does it really hurt them that much to see my face in public?

Can they really not let by-gones be by-gones and move on with their lives?

So I remain locked up.

The more I learn about this world, the more I never want to come out. Even though the history had nothing about the other irregulars past their prime age, I bet the villagers had been mean to them all through their existence.

I spend days - nights, planning, taking notes, jotting, compiling notes, taking even more notes, marking days off and trying to keep track of time. At the end of all this, three weeks has gone by.

That was to be expected.

A bunch of metal noises come from my door, Peyton. She has been dropping food in front of my door nonstop for the past few weeks, I know she must work her butt off to feed both me and her. I appreciate her doing all these for me even though I won't say it right now. I'm kinda in the middle of something.

Ugh... what is that offensive smell?

Looking at my armpit worriedly, I haven't had a bath in like what - weeks? I strip off my clothes and step into the bath. The water hisses down my body as I feel the warmness spread inside me. I've forgotten how the feel of warm water on my body was like. I decide to wash my hair too, I haven't been really keen on hygiene lately but I'll make up for it today... might as well get a hair cut while I am at it.

There's nothing more freeing and relieving in a game than self-service. A situation where I do things for me by myself, though horribly done, but free of charge. A win-win-win. I draw out a small knife from a cupboard nearby and sit by my table.

This could go two ways,

Elegant, stylish and well-done. Appealing to the eyes.

Or,