"Do you have any class this afternoon?", asked Narrow.

"The schedule said no.", I replied. "I have no sessions this afternoon... Tomorrow, however, I have until 2:30."

"Good."

"Why.", my right eyebrow raised.

"You get to see how this chaos unfolds."

"Huh?"

"Yeah."

Chaos?

Kkkkkk! Kkkkkk! The book vibrated against the wooden table I and Narrow were leaning on. Now what? Also, can Narrow not hear this? I watched him seem unfazed by the book. Seems not.

Pretending to brush off the table with my hand, I moved through the pages of the grimoire. My eyes widened with anticipation as the pages slowly turned, it revealed a fresh blankness that seemed to shimmer with otherworldly energy. And then, as if guided by an invisible hand, words began to materialize on the pristine surface. The elegant script inked in a mysterious hue, formed a directive that sent a chill down the observers' spines.

"Find a secluded area."

The words gleamed on the page... Curiosity mingled with a hint of trepidation as the book's presence pulsed with an undeniable aura of ancient wisdom. The significance of the message settled upon my heart. For some reason, I really do want to find a secluded area. It was as if all the memory the book has bestowed upon me had created an impact on how I perceived things.

As I closed the book and stood up, its vibrations ceased, leaving a palpable sense of anticipation in the air. "Uhm, Narrow.", I said.

"Yep?", he watched me stand up as he reached down his pants to grab his book... the same book he has read back on the bus. "Anything you need?"

"I'll go to the restroom for a bit.", I smiled gently. "I'll be back."

"Sure.", his gaze was redirected to the book. Are all Pioneers like this? Always reading? How ironic... "It's on the right side of the entrance."

"Thank you.", I bowed.

Walking through the bustling cafeteria, I absorbed the atmosphere that enveloped the space. Conversations intertwined with the clatter of cutlery and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, creating a sensory tapestry that painted a picture of communal nourishment. The chatter of students and the occasional burst of laughter infused the air.

I made my way towards the restroom, feeling a brief respite from the vibrant cacophony of the cafeteria. Pushing open the door, I stepped into the dimly lit male restroom. The faint scent of disinfectant hung in the air, mingling with the lingering notes of soap. The tiled walls, worn and well-used, bore the marks of countless individuals who had sought refuge within these walls.

I closed the door behind me, relishing the momentary solitude as I turned the lock, securing my privacy. The soft hum of the ventilation system provided a comforting backdrop, a constant companion in this moment of solitude. Taking a seat on the cool surface of the toilet, I leaned back against the tiled wall, allowing the fatigue of the day to momentarily disappear.

In this quiet sanctuary, my mind began to wander. I watched the book. And suddenly, like a sick click at the back of my mind, my eyes began to water. Soon, my whole face was filled with tears. I was crying the grief of someone else.

The weight of sorrow bore down upon me, like a tidal wave crashing upon the shores of my soul. Tears welled up in my eyes, a torrent of emotion threatening to spill over. Silent sobs escaped my lips as the floodgates of despair were unleashed, filling the stillness of the restroom with a symphony of anguish.

Each tear that fell carried with it a story, a narrative of heartache and unspoken pain. In the solitude of this secluded space, I allowed myself to surrender to the torrent of emotions that had been building within me. The walls surrounding me seemed to absorb the echoes of my anguish, offering a sanctuary for the tears to flow freely.

The sound of my own weeping reverberated in the small enclosure, mingling with the distant hum of the ventilation system.

The book opened itself up in my lap.

"This is grief." I know, book. I know! Then the words continue to manifest. "This is the grief of all the people who have wielded this book." Huh? What... does that mean?

In the midst of tranquility, a sudden surge of anger erupted within me, as though a dormant volcano had awoken from its slumber. It coursed through my veins like molten lava, igniting a fiery tempest that threatened to consume all reason and restraint.

Aghhhh! Fuck!

Inexplicably, I found myself overwhelmed by a tumultuous tide of emotions that were not solely my own. It was as if the collective rage of countless souls, long since departed from this earthly realm, had found its vessel within me. Their suppressed anger, the lingering remnants of lives filled with strife and injustice, surged forth like a torrential storm.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

I punched my lap. Ouch! What is this- UGH!

With each passing moment, the intensity of the anger grew, expanding beyond the boundaries of my own experiences. I became a conduit, a vessel for the emotions of the departed, their collective fury manifesting within me. Their grievances merged with my own, entwining and fueling the flames of wrath. I can't do anything but burst my nerves. I was flexing my whole body just to let the heat dissipate. Fuck!

"This is anger." I fucking know! "This is the anger of all the people who had wielded me."

Suddenly, a vast and profound loneliness engulfed me, as if the very essence of solitude had taken physical form and wrapped itself tightly around my being. It was an all-encompassing emptiness, an ache that resonated deep within my soul.

In the midst of the bustling world, I felt utterly isolated, disconnected from the threads of human connection that wove through the tapestry of existence. The laughter and conversations of others seemed distant and hollow, mere echoes bouncing off the walls of my solitude.

As I stood there, surrounded by a sea of faces, an overwhelming sense of being adrift washed over me. It was as if I were a solitary figure in a desolate landscape, longing for companionship but unable to bridge the vast expanse that separated me from others. The weight of isolation settled upon my shoulders, pressing me down into a well of melancholy.

"This is loneliness." Oh? That's rough... "This is the collective loneliness all those who came before you felt."

And this is... Fuck. I smiled.

"And this is euphoria.", the book then glowed a faint yellow and white tone. "The vengeful orgasm of those who had trampled the same path of you. The feeling of a successful curse."

A surge of uncontainable euphoria coursed through my veins, electrifying every fiber of my being. It was as if the world around me had transformed into a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors and shimmering light, each moment pulsating with an undeniable sense of joy and elation.

With every breath, I felt a profound sense of liberation, as though the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders. The boundaries that confined me dissolved into oblivion, and I soared on the wings of pure exhilaration, transcending the limits of my own existence.

Every sensation became heightened, a symphony of delight playing upon the strings of my consciousness. The touch of a gentle breeze against my skin was transformed into a caress of bliss, and the rhythmic beat of my heart resonated with the pulsating rhythm of life itself.

Laughter bubbled forth from the depths of my soul, an infectious melody that echoed through the very core of my being. It mingled with the laughter of others, intertwining in a harmonious chorus that reverberated throughout the universe.

"This is the euphoria of success.", the book wrote. "The vengeful orgasm."

In a fleeting moment, the kaleidoscope of emotions came to an abrupt halt, as if time itself had frozen. The vibrant colors that had danced within my heart and mind began to fade, leaving behind a void that echoed with a haunting stillness.

What was that... I felt the feelings of others... I was feeling all emotions other than mine. What the fuck was that?!

"Fernando Guerra isn't a person. He is a group.", the book wrote. "Fernando Guerra is the collective experience of all those who cursed Barter making Barter into what it is today.", the book held a brief pause letting me absorb all the information at hand.

What... do you mean?

"A fragment of the memories are being revealed to you."

In the dimly lit corridors of the opulent Barter Casino, the air hung heavy with the mingling scents of wealth and desperation. As I pushed my janitorial cart through the maze of extravagance, my worn-out clothes serving as a stark contrast to the decadence that surrounded me, a sudden encounter shattered the fragile equilibrium of my existence.

A man, adorned in lavish attire that whispered of his abundant wealth, stumbled out of the gambling den, his face twisted with disdain. In a moment fueled by contempt, he directed his ire towards me, the lowly janitor who went unnoticed by the masses. With a venomous sneer, he spat upon me, his arrogance tainting the very air around us.

In that instant, the warmth of his saliva against my skin ignited a fire within me. The sting of the insult cut through the layers of my humility, awakening a long-buried sense of pride and dignity. The rich man's contemptuous act became a catalyst, a turning point in my life, as I swore to retaliate against the land that nurtured such callous disregard for the worth of others.

From that moment forward, a promise swelled inside me. The pain of that indignity fueled a relentless determination to overturn the unjust hierarchy that governed Barter. There shall come a time when those at the bottom shall reign on top. And from that day on, I curse this land. I curse Barter.

"I think this book is yours..."

A flashback played in my mind. The weight of realization settled upon me like a suffocating shroud. With trembling hands, I clutched the ancient book that lay before me, its leather-bound cover worn and weathered with time. Those memories I have been absorbing ever since I read the book... All those secrets being revealed to me... Are the memories of all those who wielded this grimoire.

"Curse this land.", the book wrote. "But, you have three conditions."

A post-agreement condition? Hold on! If this happens, I might have to let go of...

"First condition, never let go of the book until you reach the final page.", it resumed manifesting fonts. "Once revoked, all the grief, anger, and loneliness of the past owners shall manifest onto you and you will live as a fool- a man deprived of sanity."

Nevermind...

"Second condition...", the book seems to write slowly with this one. "Analysis completed." Huh? "Based on your current situation, the second condition states you must unite all the gangs in Barter.", the book resumed. "Or else, you shall be a man deprived of sanity."

I thought I'm going to live a main character moment, but boy I was wrong. I'm in a contract with the devil's book. What the fuck is that condition?!

"And the third condition is...", the book wrote. "To be announced."

Ah...

"The deal is set."

I didn't decide that, but go on...

"Main challenge: Unite all gangs in Barter."

Well, shit. Who even decided to un-unite the gangs in Barter?!

"That would be Christopher Farajas, a previous wielder of this book." Huh? "Data about him is locked. Explore the grimoire first to see the story."

Well, shit is going to get wild.

"Juju!", three hard knocks popped on the bathroom door. I hear Lee's voice. "Sir Narrow is looking for you. He has summoned you for an important discussion."

Well, shit again.