I Got Reincarnated in Danmachi But Got No Cheats?!

Chapter 52 - A Strange Friend and Death's Edge Experiment

I cleared my throat softly. "Um... excuse me."

My voice was very hoarse like sandpaper.

He didn't respond.

The burly man didn't stop his push-ups.

Still focused on his counting.

"One hundred ninety-five... One hundred ninety-six..."

"Uh, excuse me," I called again, this time louder.

Still ignored.

His humming even got louder, as if deliberately drowning out my voice.

I waited patiently until he finished his set of push-ups.

It took almost ten minutes—he did 200 push-ups in one set.

His strength was extraordinary for an ordinary person. Did he have a body stronger than normal humans?

I was confused seeing him.

He got up slowly, wiping sweat with the edge of his worn and stained shirt.

His shirt was torn in several places, showing more old scars on his body.

Old wounds that had become part of his skin.

"What's up?" he asked while stretching his arm muscles.

His voice was heavy but friendly—a strange contrast to his intimidating appearance.

I was confused about where to start. How to start a conversation with this person so he'd be willing to try to kill me.

"Aren't... aren't you depressed in prison?" I finally asked, looking for a way to open the conversation.

My question seemed to surprise him. He was silent for a moment, then burst out laughing.

His laughter was loud and contagious, echoing in the narrow cell.

Even his laughter made the people in other detention cells laugh too.

"Depressed? What for?" he said while still chuckling.

"Food is provided three times a day—maybe not tasty, but filling. There's a bed, though a bit hard. And when I'm bored I can borrow books from the prison library. This is heaven compared to living on the streets!"

His response made me more confused.

He sounded really sincere.

Did he enjoy life in prison that much? What a strange guy.

"Don't you want to be free?" I asked again.

His expression changed.

Still smiling, but there was something different in his eyes.

Something deeper, more complex.

"Free for what?" he answered with a tone that was hard to interpret.

He glanced at the corner of the cell, then stared at his own hands.

"Free out there for what? Go back to the same life? Repeat the same mistakes that got me in here? Heh. In here... at least everything's clear."

"Free to return to the same life? Free to repeat the same mistakes?"

He shrugged with a movement that was trained, too smooth for an ordinary person.

"Not for now. I'm comfortable enough here."

"But... your family? Your friends? They must be worried—"

His expression suddenly hardened.

The smile disappeared instantly, replaced by a cold and dangerous look.

For a moment, I saw a glimpse of who this man really was—not an ordinary cheerful prisoner, but something far more dangerous.

This person was very dangerous, my skill warned me.

Could an ordinary person be so scary? Or wasn't he human?

You know, I've received blessings from gods that would make me stronger by hunting monsters in the dungeon.

But this man, an ordinary person, could make my skill say this person was dangerous.

Then, as quickly as it appeared, that expression disappeared.

He laughed again, but this time it sounded forced.

"Family... friends?" he laughed softly, but his eyes didn't.

"Hah... that's... complicated, buddy. Not everyone's that lucky, right?"

I realized I'd crossed a line.

The topic of family seemed sensitive—maybe even dangerous to discuss with him.

"Ah, sorry," I said quickly. I hurried to rack my brain for a topic.

"I... asked too many questions. I'm Kaen, by the way. Just Kaen."

"I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay," he cut me off with a more genuine smile.

"Your name is Just Kaen, right?" He asked with a surprised expression.

Was not having a last name that weird?

And also, why did I feel like he knew me? Was that just my feeling?

I nodded, a bit surprised he knew.

"My name's Zagan," he extended his hand. "Zagan Blackthorne."

"Zagan..." I repeated his name.

A cool name.

"Nice to meet you, Zagan."

"Nice to meet you too, Kaen."

He said those last words with a confused tone?

When we shook hands, my eyes were drawn to a tattoo on his shoulder that was exposed because his shirt was torn: a snake eating its own tail.

Very aesthetic.

Suddenly, a strange familiar feeling appeared.

A strong déjà vu that made me dizzy for a moment.

I felt like I'd seen that logo before.

Not just as a common symbol, but in a specific context.

A vague memory from my youth on Earth, about dreams of making an e-sports team with high school friends.

Naive dreams of becoming a pro gamer.

We'd once considered that symbol as our team logo—"Ouroboros," they called it.

A team that never formed because I was too busy studying and they were too busy playing.

"Interesting tattoo," I commented, trying to hide that strange feeling.

Zagan glanced at his own shoulder, as if just remembering the tattoo was there.

"Oh, this?" he shrugged.

"Just a cool design I found somewhere. No special meaning. I just liked the shape."

His answer sounded...

unconvincing.

There was something in his eyes when he said it—a flash of hesitation, as if he was hiding something.

But I just nodded.

Maybe it really was just a coincidence.

This world was very vast—coincidences could happen.

So I didn't think too much about it.

We chatted about trivial things after that—prison food that turned out not to be as bad as I thought, the book he was reading (something about complex fighting techniques called "loving nature"), his daily routine that was strictly structured.

Zagan turned out to be interesting to talk to.

He had broad knowledge about various topics, an intelligent way of speaking, and a dry but entertaining sense of humor.

I started to forget that he was a prisoner like me.

Besides Zagan telling me about himself.

I told him a little about my situation. Not in detail—just that I was an adventurer who had just received a blessing from a god.

I also told him a little about Goddess Hestia. When he asked about my god.

After almost an hour of exchanging stories.

Now the most enjoyable time I'd had in the last two days—I finally worked up the courage to ask the real question.

"Zagan," I said softly, trying to choose my words carefully.

"Could you help me check something?"

The man's eyes immediately lit up with interest.

He looked like someone who got bored easily and enjoyed new challenges.

"Sure! What do I need to do?" he asked with enthusiasm that was almost childlike.

I took a deep breath, preparing myself for his reaction.

"Zagan..." I stopped, swallowing hard.

It felt ridiculous.

Crazy.

"I... need your help. For... a test. An experiment." He stared at me, waiting.

"I need... you... to try... to hurt me. Seriously. Until... well... you know."

The change in his expression was instant and dramatic.

From enthusiastic and friendly to angry and worried in the blink of an eye.

He jumped up, a quick movement that made me reflexively back away.

"Are you crazy?!" he shouted in a loud voice that echoed in the cell.

"Are you trying to commit suicide?! After everything you just told me about your goddess?!"

"No, no!" I raised both hands, trying to calm him down.

"Listen to me first—"

"I won't listen to anything!" he started pacing in that small cell like a tiger in a cage.

My mouth twitched—I felt this man really was a tiger.

"You think this is a solution? You think dying will help anyone?"

He stopped in front of me, staring at me with fiery eyes.

"Listen to me, Kaen. Life is precious. Maybe you don't see it now, but there are many beautiful things out there you haven't experienced yet. Delicious food you haven't tried, beautiful places you haven't visited, beautiful women you haven't met—"

"W-Wait," I cut him off. "Listen to me for a second. This isn't a suicide attempt."

He stopped talking, but still stared at me with skepticism and anger.

"This is an experiment," I continued as seriously as possible.

"To check my skill as an adventurer."

"What experiment?!" his tone was still high.

I explained about my skill in detail—how it prevented me from hurting myself, how it took control of my body in critical moments, about my curiosity whether the skill would activate if the threat came from outside.

"As an adventurer, I need to know the limits of my abilities," I continued with a tone I hoped sounded rational.

"Especially a skill I don't fully understand. This could be the difference between life and death in the dungeon."

Zagan stared at me with an expression that slowly changed from angry to...

curious?

"A skill that prevents suicide?" he muttered.

"That's... weird. And interesting."

"Exactly," I said, feeling like I'd found an opening.

"And I need to know if it will also protect me from external threats."

He was silent for a long time, considering my words.

I could see the conflict in his eyes—between concern and scientific curiosity.

"Are you sure this isn't a sneaky way to commit suicide?" he finally asked.

"If I wanted to die, I wouldn't ask for your help," I answered honestly.

"I tried to commit suicide, but as I explained, my skill prevented it."

He stared at me for a long time, as if trying to read my mind.

"And you're sure this skill will protect you?" he asked again.

I hesitated for a moment.

Actually, I wasn't sure.

That was the core of this experiment.

"No," I answered honestly.

"That's why I need to test it."

For some reason he still didn't believe me.

After a long debate involving various philosophical arguments about the value of life and moral responsibility, Zagan finally agreed very reluctantly.

Zagan sighed long, scratching his head that wasn't itchy.

"Damn, you're really crazy, huh?" he muttered.

"Okay... okay, I'll help. But watch out, if you really die, I'll kill your corpse again so I don't feel guilty."

"Deal."

Zagan stood in front of me, hesitant.

His hands shook slightly as he placed them on my neck.

The pressure was weak, like someone afraid of hurting a kitten.

I shook my head.

"More... serious," I said in a choked voice because of his hand position.

"You have to... really intend to kill me... for the skill to activate."

"I can't do it half-heartedly?"

"This skill responds to real threats. If you're not serious, there won't be accurate results."

"Just pretend you really want to kill me."

Actually, I was also doubtful whether it would work.

Zagan stared at me, his eyes showing heavy internal conflict.

But then something changed in his expression.

As if he'd pressed a switch, his friendly eyes changed to cold and focused.

It felt like looking at a tiger.

I was right—this person was a tiger.

Was he a tiger race or human?

I thought he was a human with a tiger's temperament.

While busy thinking, I started to feel the pressure on my neck suddenly increase drastically.

The air in my lungs was quickly drained.

I felt incredible tightness, like there was a giant hand squeezing my throat.

Blood vessels in my temples throbbed hard.

I wanted to scream "stop," but no sound could come out.

Instead, only a terrible choking sound came out.

Black dots started dancing in front of my eyes.

My skill... why wasn't it activating?

Where was my [Survival Instinct]?

Panic started gnawing at my increasingly blurred mind.

This wasn't like what I'd imagined.

The skill should have been active by now.

Why wasn't my body freezing like when I tried to commit suicide?

Zagan's hands got tighter.

His face changed into a cold mask, as if he really wanted to kill me.

There was no more hesitation in his eyes.

Just terrifying focus on his task.

I gasped for breath.

My chest hurt.

My heart was beating irregularly, like a drum being hit by a panicking child.

My vision started to blur, and the edges of my vision started to blacken.

'Why isn't my skill working?' That was the last thought that crossed my mind before my consciousness started to drift.

The last thing I felt was Zagan's grip getting stronger, and his facial expression changing into something foreign.

As if the person choking me wasn't the friendly, joking Zagan anymore, but someone completely different.

Someone who might be used to killing.

That was my last thought before my vision went completely dark, and I sank into absolute darkness.

Was I going to die?