2: Complaining is My Pastime
As he walked, he couldn't help but think about how he'd ended up here.
It had been a normal day, right after his high school graduation. He'd been walking home, mind full of plans for the future, when suddenly... Bang… truck-kun stole him from Earth.
Bright light, disorientation, and then he was here, in this nightmare world of magic and monsters.
Again, Silas was probably the only person who felt this way about this magical, mystical, world of fairies and epic adventure.
"I bet there's some god out there laughing its ass off at me right now," Silas grunted in disdain. "Oh, look at the poor Earth boy, flopping around in a fantasy world. Isn't it hilarious?"
"No, it's not, you celestial jerk. It sucks."
He remembered those first terrifying days, unable to understand anyone, desperately trying to mime his need for food and water.
The looks of pity, confusion, and sometimes disgust from the locals. And then the relentless animals that attacked him.
"Who knew squirrels could be so vicious!?" Silas mused, absently rubbing a spot on his arm where a particularly nasty 'forest critter' had taken a chunk out of him.
It was during that attack that he'd discovered his ability.
The squirrels' teeth and claws had torn into him, but he felt nothing. No pain, no discomfort. For a brief, glorious moment, he thought he'd hit the isekai protagonist jackpot!
Then the system messages started appearing.
[Congratulations! You have unlocked the unique skill: Infinite Damage Absorption!]
"Awesome!" Silas had said at the time, relief turning quickly to confusion.
[Infinite Damage Absorption: All physical damage is absorbed and stored, to be experienced at a later time at 10X the amount. Pain can be delayed indefinitely, but doing so will gradually erode the user's senses.]
"Wait, what?" he'd exclaimed. But the system wasn't done.
[Warning: Accumulated pain must be experienced to restore lost senses. Prolonged delay may result in permanent sensory loss.]
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Silas had groaned. He immediately allowed the pain to hit him to avoid any future sensory loss. It was absurd!
Now, ten years later, Silas had learned to manage his ability... somewhat. He'd discovered that he could control when to release the stored pain, but it was always a balancing act.
Hold onto it too long, and he'd start losing his senses. Release it too often, and he'd be constantly incapacitated.
In fact there was a time when he chose to be blind and deaf for a full year rather than experience the pain of being burt by magcical fire from a dragon that randonly flew over the forest one day.
Eventually he had to experience it, as he was slowly losing his other senses too. It was the worst hellish suffering he'd ever felt in his life, and it had truly psychologically scarred him.
Fortunately the system would heal these mental wounds after a few months. But the memories remained.
"Some gift," Silas muttered as he reached his small, rented room above the local tavern. "Can't even enjoy being invincible because I know I'll have to pay for it later. With interest."
He flopped onto his bed, wincing at the creak of the ancient springs, another thing he missed from Earth - decent mattresses.
"Okay, Silas, think," he said to himself. "Cultists killed your only friend in this world. They're probably up to some nefarious scheme involving virgin sacrifices or opening portals to hell or whatever it is cultists do. And now you've gone and declared yourself a hero. Good job, idiot."
He sat up, running a hand through his hair. "I don't even know where to start. It's not like there's a 'Evil Cultists Map Directions' shop in town. Although in this crazy world, who knows?"
Silas stood and began pacing the small room. "Alright, what would the protagonists in those fantasy novels do? Gather information, I guess. Talk to people. Maybe check out the crime scene for clues."
He paused, looking at himself in the cracked mirror hanging on the wall. "Who am I kidding? What am I going to do against a bunch of psycho cultists?"
But then he thought of the apothecary owner, of her kindness, of how she'd taken him in when no one else would.
He remembered her patient lessons as she taught him to read this world's strange script, her gentle encouragement as he struggled to learn the language.
"Dammit," Silas sighed. "I can't just do nothing. She deserves better than that."
He looked at his reflection again, trying to see something heroic, something worthy.
All he saw was a tired, scared man with too much responsibility and not enough pain medication.
"Fine," he said to his reflection. "We'll play hero. But we're doing it safely. No unnecessary risks, no jumping into danger without a plan. Freakin' hell, this situation sucks."
Silas grabbed his pack, checking his supplies. Herbs, bandages, a few weak healing potions he'd managed to afford. His sword, a cheap but serviceable blade. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.
"First stop, the apothecary shop," he decided. "Or what's left of it. Maybe there's something there that can point me in the right direction."
As he headed for the door, Silas felt the familiar pressure building inside him. The pain had to be let out, and soon he'd have to face it.
"Just hold on a little longer," he muttered to himself. "Find a clue, then we can curl up in agony for a few hours. That's the plan."
With a deep breath, Silas stepped out into the street. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the cobblestones.
In the distance, he could still see smoke rising from the ruins of the apothecary shop.
"I swear, when I find out who's responsible for this, I'm going to absorb so much damage punching them that I'll be feeling it for years," Silas growled.
And with that less-than-heroic declaration, he set off toward the scene of the crime, ready to start his reluctant quest for justice in a world he never wanted to be part of.
"Earth, if you're listening," Silas said to the darkening sky, "or the jerk god who put me here. Can you send me some help so I don't get hurt? No? Fine. I guess it's off to fight evil or whatever."
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Silas approached the smouldering ruins of the apothecary shop, his heart heavy with grief and anger.
The acrid smell of burnt herbs and chemicals assaulted his nostrils, a cruel reminder of the countless hours he'd spent here learning about this world's remedies.
"Man, this sucks," he muttered, carefully stepping over charred debris.
As he picked through the wreckage, Silas kept an eye out for anything unusual.
Most of the shop's contents were destroyed, reduced to ash and twisted metal. But something caught his eye - a glint of silver beneath a fallen shelf.
"Hello, what's this?" Silas muttered, crouching down to investigate.
He brushed away the soot and debris, revealing a small, ornate silver amulet. It was untouched by the fire, its surface cool to the touch despite the surrounding heat.
As Silas picked it up, he noticed strange symbols etched into its surface - symbols that matched the grotesque mark carved into the apothecary owner's forehead.
"Well, well," Silas said, a grim smile forming on his face. "Our cultist friends left something behind. Sloppy work, you guys. Really sloppy."
He turned the amulet over in his hands, studying it closely. On the back, barely visible, was a tiny inscription: "The Crimson Dawn rises at the Whispering Caverns."
"The Whispering Caverns?" Silas frowned. "I've heard of those. They're about a day's journey north of here. Supposedly haunted or something equally stupid and dangerous."
He pocketed the amulet, feeling a mix of excitement and dread. This was it - his first lead. But it also meant he was one step closer to confronting the cultists, and probably a whole lot of pain.
"Hero time." Silas sighed, looking up at the night sky. "I hope you're happy, universe, because I'm sure as hell not."
As he turned to leave, Silas prepared himself for the night of agony he would experience later in his room. He'd have to pay the landlord his usual apology fee so that he's not disturbed.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Back in his room, the pain hit him like a tidal wave, sending him to his knees.
Every injury he'd accumulated over the past few weeks crashed into him at once, amplified tenfold. Silas bit back a scream, his vision blurring.
"Yep... still sucks..." he managed to gasp between waves of agony. "But at least... I've got a lead... Whispering Caverns... here I come..."
And with that, Silas writhed in agonising silence, punctuated by the occasional groans and moans.