The collection of protection fees went well. People do not look at the gang with horror and dread anymore. They also seem willing to part with a small amount of income for peace and security that the goons started bringing about. Not hated does not mean that they are well-liked and accepted by everyone. People still prefer they do not exist in the first place. But now that their behavior has mellowed down a lot, people at least see the possibility for peaceful coexistence. I use the term ‘they’ instead of ‘us’ because people consider me to be the only reasonable person in the chaotic bunch. They have also realized that things have taken a turn for the better after I joined. That makes me well-liked and popular by contrast. Even if they offer me freebies and bribes on occasions, I have to take a pass on it as I have to keep up the image of the only reasonable and upright person among the goons. This way, even if everything goes south one day, and they bring the gang members to justice, people would vouch for me and my character. It is better to have an umbrella, and it does not rain, rather than not have an umbrella when it is raining.

After a good day’s work and an unreasonably long walk, I finally reached home. People say crime does not pay, but it paid pretty well for my humble mansion. It is not that I enjoy the vanity of living in a large empty mansion alone, but I did need a place in a remote area. Its vicinity to a swamp was a pleasant bonus. This way, I was far enough from the rest of the town to practice the abilities of my mind. The swamp also gave me virtually unlimited access to critters.

As per the daily schedule, I took a shower and rested a bit at home. After that, I was off to the swamp for my daily practice session.

The swamp is only half an hour away from my home by walk. As I approached the swamp, the dampness and the stickiness of the soil started becoming more apparent. The smell of wet mud, mixed with the native flora and fauna is also quite distinct. Another clear indicator that I had arrived at my destination is the cacophony of croaks and the chirping of crickets. Toads and frogs are undoubted my favorite test subjects, and they seem the most fearless. It also becomes much easier to manipulate and induce emotions when the target is calm. If it is overwhelmed by a primitive emotion like fear in the first place, any attempt to introduce a foreign emotion will be drowned.

I stop at an area that is teeming with critters, yet dry enough that I am comfortable. One particular frog starts hopping towards me. I call him Philip, although it might be a she. It was the result of my week-long experiment to create affection in frogs. It was not as hard as I imagined. I just had to keep introducing positive feelings whenever it was near me. And presto! One week later, it started approaching me of its own volition. I practice with Philip and his buddies for an hour and decide it was time to head back home.

As I was feeling particularly adventurous today, and I decided to take an off-route path home. Although it was getting dark, I have enough confidence in my sense of direction to not get lost. Who knows, I may even find some new subject to experiment on along the way.

As I make my way towards home, I heard a soft wheezing sound. It was followed by gasps of air. It was as if someone was struggling to breathe, taking their last breath. Half of me wants to turn around and run as fast as possible, and the other wants to see what is happening. I decided to make my way through the foliage and hide my presence as much as possible. I did not want to get put as a tasty snack just because my curiosity got the best of me. Sacrificing my clothes, which I would have to throw out without a doubt because of all the dirt and grime, I crawl towards the source of the sound. As I approach closer and closer, the sound started becoming more discernible. Among the other sounds, I can hear the spitting out of something, probably mud. It leads me to believe that it is an injured who fell in the mud rather than an animal.

But since it was curiosity and not caution that killed the cat, I decided to be as careful as possible. I got dangerously close to the sound at this point, and I knew that only a thin layer of a few wild plants separated me from the source of the sound. But I was still a couple of feet away to get up and start running if necessary. I use both my hands to gently part the foliage to make just enough room for one of my eyes to peek through.

The sight in front of me immediately froze my blood. What I saw was humanoid without a doubt, but it was not supposed to be alive. The humanoid creature seemed to have two of its arms maimed to such an extent that it was getting dragged on the side like two useless pieces of flesh. One leg seems to be in the same state as the arms. It was pushing itself forward along the mud using one of its legs that were slightly less damaged, along with the alternative motion of the shoulders. It seemed to be biting down a bag of sorts, only putting it down for periodic gasps. The torso also seemed to be injured to such an extent that it immediately invokes a gag reflex. Although I would not count myself as a medical expert by any stretch of the imagination, even I could tell that no human could survive even for a minute in that condition. It was very apparent that it was something else, at least not human.

The horror of the sight in front of me had petrified me. At this point, I was too afraid to breathe. It took me several minutes to process what I was seeing. Even then, my brain was completely blank on how to proceed. I would expect that the primary instinct in such a situation would be for a person to scream and run. But I was wrong, as the primary instinct seems to be to hide and hope for the event to pass.

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While under normal circumstances, I would have reasoned that crawling slowly backward, and making a run for it when I was far enough was the best option, that is not what I did. With all the stimulation of the situation, I instinctively turned around and started running.

I barely took four or five steps before I tripped on the same foliage that gave me cover.

“Help me,” A hoarse but distinctively feminine voice could be heard, as it seemed to notice my presence. “Please.”

I could not help wonder how such a feminine voice could originate from something that looks so grotesquely inhuman.

My instincts were screaming at me to run as far away as possible. I was about to follow through with it when a slight headache suddenly struck me. Although it lasted only for seconds, I knew it was not a normal one. It was the kind of headache I was most afraid of. But this time, ‘It’ seemed to convey that this encounter may give me the other supernatural power ‘It’ had asked me to search.

“Help me,” I hear the desperately pleading voice again.

The momentary headache had shaken me from awake from the instinctual fear, at least for some part. Although I was not going to lay down my life based on some message left by a headache, which sounds ridiculous in and of itself, I realized that it might not be too risky to try. Whatever that thing was, mobility is something that it is not capable of at present. In case something does not go as planned, I should still be able to outrun it without much effort. Maybe the pleading voice had invoked some degree of sympathy in me as well.

“Are you a human being?” I ask as I try to hide the quiver in my voice. But the high pitch with which I asked the question was a dead giveaway.

"Yes. Please help me." It said, pleading again.

Well, I was not sure what answer I was expecting. Even if it were not human, I doubt that it was going to admit that given that its life is at stake at present.

I take a big gulp of air and step through the foliage so it can see me. The real reason is that I wanted to keep it in my line of sight so that it would not crawl towards me without me knowing it. The latter prospect seemed to be much more frightening to me. It was completely covered with mud, so it was hard to tell anything about its looks or expression.

Now that I see it in front of me, I have collected myself enough to notice its emotion. The pain, the anger, the hopelessness that is oozing out of it feels almost visceral. The overwhelming negative emotions are now somewhat littered with hope. Possibly because it seems to think that I would be able to save it. But the problem is, I don't even know where to start. Not even the best doctor in the village, and the only doctor for that matter, would be able to help it. It is not as if it is in a condition to travel to big cities to find better doctors. I rather doubt they would be in any position to help in the first place.

"How can I help you?" I ask as I could not come up with any useful idea.

It let go of the bag that it was biting on to. "There is medicine inside this bag. Please open it and feed it to me," it said.

It tried to nudge the bag towards me using its face, but the bag barely moved. It seems like not being able to use your limbs is slightly inconvenient. I dismiss the dark humor, as I can always muse about it later. The situation seemed mildly inappropriate for such thoughts. Safety should be my priority, followed by prying information about the supernatural from it.

"I can help you, but I do have some conditions. Hear me out first," I said.

"I have to clarify that I know supernatural exists. You seem to be a part of it. If I save you, I need you to induct me into it as well,"

"Secondly, I need to have some sort of guarantee that you will not hurt me in any shape or form once I help you. I cannot risk my life in case you turn hostile later." I said, clarifying my stand as precisely as possible.

I could feel its indignation. I wonder why. I believe that what I had asked for is quite reasonable, though I have no clue how to enforce it. It seems to resent me slightly because of my conditions proposed. I remind me of the emotion emitted by the mafia boss when I first tried to propose certain conditions. Almost as if someone inferior was pushing a superior person into a corner. It might also be because I am putting my safety and requirement before helping someone in need, but I doubt this is the sort of emotion that would be generated in response. I raise my guard further, as maybe proposing the demands first might not have been the best idea.

"I swear, please help me now," it said.

I almost help it due to sympathy, but I controlled my impulse. And for some reason, I did not find its word very genuine.

"I need something much more than a simple promise. I will not put my life at risk based on your word alone. Unless my conditions are guaranteed, I would turn back and ensure my safety." I said, trying to sound as harsh and uncompromising as possible. Although I would at least open the bag and give it if our negotiations fail. That way, it should be able to have the medicine it needs and I would be relatively safe.

I could feel resignation, bundled together with hope. This seemed to indicate that it might have a way to ensure the conditions will be enforced.

"I swear in the name of the abyss that I will help this person enter the world of supernatural, and will not harm him if he saves my life today." It said.

All of a sudden, I could hear whispers around me, which sent shivers down my spine. That coupled with her emotions tells me that I can trust it now. Something supernatural just happened, but I just don't know what.

I walk towards it and crouch down and open the bag. It seemed genuinely surprised that I got convinced so easily. It probably thought it would have to convince me of the genuineness of the oath.

The locks on the bag were complicated. There was no way someone could open it with just their mouth unless someone trained for years to open it with just their mouth.

It guided me to find the proper medicine and instructed me on how to administer it.

After administering the medicine, it fell unconscious. Now I had to decide what to do with it at this point. I could simply leave it here, or I could bring it back to my place. Leaving it here in the middle of the wilderness did not seem like the responsible thing to do. So I decide to carry it back home.