Ato turned towards Kweku, who sat in a position similar to his, but with his palms cupped and held out slightly in front of him.

He had recently started using this form a few hours after he had broken through; it seemed like a more advanced version of the basic cultivation technique.

After Kweku was done, they picked up their machetes, as was standard practice, and headed out to the farms, where it seemed they would now be working.

Work at the farm was tough. The entire front section had been cleared out when they arrived, so they had to go further into the field, where the maize stalks were large and thick, some growing as tall as trees.

It became quite clear to Ato that this place had not been touched for years.

Fortunately, the abnormal growth of the maize stalks did not affect their thickness much, so Ato was able to cut them down in a single swing, although it required a bit more power on his part.

As the stalks fell to the ground, Ato dexterously plucked the maize heads from their places, throwing them into the basket that sat only a few meters from him.

It seemed the Supervisor had strictly admonished the basket-givers, as they appeared to be missing one more person.

Or at least, that was what he had heard from the slaves around him. Ato did not want to ponder too much about such topics.

In less than an hour, his basket was already full and ready to be submitted to the storehouse.

Ato picked up his basket, placed it on his head, and began the relatively long walk to the storehouse.

As he strolled along the dirt path, he could hear the hushed whispers of the workers as he passed by, the soft rustle of the stalks in the wind, and the sound of his feet impacting the ground.

Something had happened to him, and he would find out what it was.

He arrived at the foot of the large cylindrical building. The storehouse was a wondrous feat of architecture. Spacious enough to fit about 200 people, it was reserved for storing grain harvested from the fields within the farm, of which there were many. It was also quite tall, with each floor used to store a specific type of grain, except for the ground floor, where the workers went to bring in their produce.

He stepped inside the building, finding it emptier than he had last seen it.

A different supervisor stood at the far end of the room, her hands folded across her chest, her hawk-like eyes scanning the room as if she were a soldier looking out for threats.

As Ato approached, her already piercing gaze became even sharper, and a slight hint of disdain was visible within it.

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Ato wordlessly handed her his basket, an action that prompted another disdainful glance from the supervisor.

No matter the age... They always exist...

Ah... Puritans. The kind of people who thought that age was a deciding factor in how much respect one received.

They were the same people who determined that his higher education was 'Of no use.'

Ato hated those types of people. If it weren't for them...

"What the hell are you looking at?"

Ato quickly retracted his gaze, making sure to mask the venom hidden within. It would do him no good to go around making assumptions based on his past life.

He turned and quickly left the hall, his steps echoing on the tiled floors.

Strange... They'd even discovered tiles...

He walked out of the building, heading back down the way he came.

The walk through the field was as relaxing as ever. The soft rustling of the stalks, the swishing of the machetes, the cool morning breeze...

The various sounds culminated in a natural melody, which resonated deeply within him, filling him with a sense of delight.

Morning walks truly were beautiful.

Ato let them take him; with his heightened senses, he felt as if he were floating on a sea of clouds.

It was pure bliss.

Until it wasn't.

"AAHHH!"

A shrill scream pierced through the still air, and a haunting silence followed.

Though that was quickly over, as the silence was overtaken by the hushed murmurs of countless workers, all collectively asking one thing: "What the hell happened?"

This too was short-lived. Another scream came, then another, and another... Over and over again, countless howls echoed within the once-quiet maize fields.

All the workers could do was crouch down on the ground, hoping—no, praying—that someone would come to help.

And for Ato...

It was so much worse.

Each scream was like a gunshot; each innocent rustle sent warning signals shooting up into his brain.

Something horrible was in the plantation, something monstrous.

And it was reaping lives insanely fast.

'Swish!'

A small jet-black figure launched itself out of the bushes and landed, with a soft thud, in front of Ato.

"Ah-"

Ato barely got a sound out before a sharp object shot out from underneath the creature's kente. It flew through the air with terrifying accuracy and would have punctured his throat had he not deflected it with his machete.

The creature giggled.

Standing at just about waist height and clad in a dirty, ragged kente with only a few visible pieces of metal armor, the monster was truly a sight to behold. It held a small sickle in its left hand, the blade of which was dripping with fresh crimson blood.

Its eyes were jaundice-yellow, and so were its sparse teeth. The creature had no hair on its bald grey head, which just so happened to contain one too many scars, some more recent than others.

All things considered, it seemed its head was the weak spot.

So that was where he'd be going first.

Another sharp object flew towards him, this time with even more frightening speed.

In just a few seconds, it was right before his eyes, and a few seconds later it had skidded across his face, leaving a large diagonal gash on his once unmarred face.

The creature dashed forward, taking advantage of Ato's momentary incapacitation to launch another attack.

Its sickle swept downwards, the sharp point piercing straight through Ato's exposed left foot.

"Ghk-!"

Ato's eyes widened in shock and pain as he registered the damage he'd been dealt.

He'd messed up.

This wasn't some amateur, two-bit monster that just happened to stumble out of their cave; it wasn't some free EXP lying on the side of the road...

It was a cold, silent killer.

The creature raised its sickle above its head and swiftly brought it down.

[Immobilize]

Ato grabbed his and sprinted away.

The creature, now frozen in place, glared at him, the look in its yellow eyes swore vengeance.

And then, it smiled.

For it knew... that its time would come.