The Price of Water

The Merchant.

The Merchant had appeared.

There was a black box, as if the very concept of the void had been given ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠form. It wasn't simply black — its surface was so unnervingly smooth it seemed to suck you in, and yet sticky at the same time. Something that could not be described by any word in existence. And that was precisely why I understood, just by looking at it, that this was an Aberration.

So how was the trading supposed to work?

I stepped up to the box. No reaction. Not even as I stood right in front of it. Should I touch it? The thought flashed through my mind for a split second — but this was an Aberration. I kept that firmly in mind and watched my step. Time dragged on and still nothing happened, so I decided to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠duck into the gallery and ask. If any of the veteran users had seen this Shop before, surely they'd know something. They would have been watching it live back then, after all. I pressed the gallery button, and — ironically enough — that was the exact moment the Shop's doors opened.

A screeching noise like a window frame being wrenched apart — a grinding, friction-laced shriek — tore through the air. I clapped my hands over my ears instantly, but it wasn't a sound that could be blocked. It wailed on for dozens of seconds, piercing deep enough to make my face contort in pain, and yet expectation swelled inside me all the same. Soon, I would have something to eat. Two days of starving was, well — not exactly a pleasant experience, so right now I'd have been grateful for anything at all.

For now, I looked at what had opened. From that place — the one that inspired a visceral wrongness just from being looked at, as though it might swallow you whole — a single hand emerged. The hand was wrinkled and shriveled, dripping and sagging as though it had been soaked in water for ages, with a soft, fragile quality that made it seem like it would crush at the slightest touch.

So I just place the item on it? Then how did that person before me trade an organ for water?

"Hm."

Okay. Got it.

As it happened, I had the Rule Sheet in my pocket, so I held the one I'd found when I first arrived out toward the Shop. The moment it touched the Shopkeeper's hand, as if to say this is exactly what I wanted, the paper slid along the skin and was sucked in. The hand vanished along with it, and from somewhere inside the box came a sound like something unidentifiable being crushed and pulped. Then—

—the hand reemerged, holding a sheet of paper so fresh it might have been printed seconds ago.

"Fuck."

The curse burst out of me out loud. It was clearly nothing but blandly written text, and yet the fact that it felt this utterly vile was not my imagination. I'd honestly been prepared to trade if the exchange rate was even remotely tolerable. What the previous person had traded for was bizarre and didn't add up, sure — but it wasn't so far beyond the pale that a deal was impossible.

But this. This was just—

"It's telling me to die."

Water costs it ripping out my heart, food costs it gouging out my eyes — and then why the hell does a stick or a wooden fish gong cost an arm or ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a brain? And the gong and stick — where was I even supposed to find those?

"Ah."

"Hoooh…"

I swallowed down the flash of anger before it could take root. I was still fine. Just in case, I'd thought of something else.

I went into the security office and picked up the doll sprawled in the center of the floor. The feel of it was disgusting, but there was no time to care about that. I hung it on the end of my mop, dragged the whole thing across the floor, and set it down in front of the Shop. The Merchant clearly dealt in human organs, so I had no idea how it would value this. But it had translated a torn Rule Sheet into a trade voucher well enough — surely if I gave it this, it would give me something back. It was an Aberration, after all. It had to have some use for its own kind's corpse.

Just as the comments said, there was no other way. Two days of hunger had taught me one thing with absolute clarity: I could last seven days without food, easily — but water was another matter entirely. Even right now my strength kept draining out of me like I was dying, and if I had to endure five more days on top of that, then honestly, even if I survived, I wouldn't have the strength left to explore anything. Realistically, I'd probably be dead before then.

So I lifted the Aberration's broken corpse and laid it on the Merchant Aberration's outstretched hand. Whether it reacted at all — that was the first thing that mattered. Fortunately, the moment its hand touched the corpse, it dragged it inside just as it had done with the paper.

—■■■

The crushing sounds began from within. Different from before — a heavier noise, like something larger being pulped. And it kept going. The paper had taken only seconds; this had been dragging on for minutes. I stared at the box, wondering what would come out—

—■

The sound stopped. Dead. Before curiosity could even register, in that single flash of a moment, I felt a stinging sensation at my fingertips. Something was different. At the thought, I threw my body sideways—

—■■■■■■■

An arm — as big as my whole body. No, bigger, slightly bigger than me — punched straight through the space where I'd been standing a heartbeat earlier.

"…Fuck."

And then the message before my eyes changed.

Something I already knew well enough. It had dragged that Aberration in and done something to it — that much was obvious. Whether "absorbed" was the right word, I hadn't known, so thanks ever so much for telling me. Right. Then shouldn't you also tell me what the hell I'm supposed to do now, status window?

Stress began to flood my skull.

I grabbed my trembling hands and leapt backward — but the space was far too small. And that thing's arm apparently wasn't enough for it, because it began crawling out through that narrow gap, bit by bit. The longer I watched it, the harder my hands shook. Was I always this pathetic? Every time that bloated mass of a body hauled itself another inch into view, my thoughts simply stopped. My mind went blank until nothing remained but the single imperative: run.

Run. Just run. My eyes frantically searched for anywhere to go — and in the end, they found the security office.

I slammed the door.

—THUD

I'd shut it so hard my hand went numb. Its image was still burned into my brain, replaying there in vivid detail. "Fuck… seriously, motherfucking…" My hands shook uncontrollably. There was nowhere left to run inside the security office. The stairs were outside, and going out there now was too late. And from beyond the door came the vivid, wet sound of that thing wrenching itself through the gap.

I can't win. I can't escape. I can't survive. Negative thoughts wrapped themselves around my skull, tightening. So this is what the gallery users meant. Overwhelming terror, and — the conviction that victory was impossible. That's why people followed the rules, stayed as careful as possible. And I had broken them. There was no way for me to know what the trigger might have been, and nothing else to choose instead. It was unfair, and it was vicious. Maybe that was the true face of what an Aberration was.

Helplessness took over my body. And then—

—THUD

The sound rang out again. Like a pig in a pen awaiting slaughter, there was nothing I could do. "Ha… haha… haha…" I grabbed my head. I was astonished that I — who had been so confident just moments ago — could collapse this completely in a single instant. I wasn't some hero or champion. Just a coward with no answers. That was why I'd always tried to erase every threat around me, and when I couldn't, I'd lashed out in rage instead. But was getting angry at that going to change anything? I couldn't do a single thing. And paradoxically, that fact was precisely what made me angry.

"Fuck…"

My teeth chattered. I already knew it was hopeless. Compared to that thing, I was just an ordinary human — clutching a mop wouldn't change a damn thing. Its arm alone was as big as my whole body. The last thing I'd seen of it was that enormous frame hunched over, filling the entire ceiling as it forced its way through. And yet. I was angry. It was fucking infuriating. This absurd reality — and myself, running from it.

So I stood up. Whether I lived or died didn't matter. What moved me was the rage ruling my skull this very second. I knew it wasn't rational. I knew it was impossible. But so what? Since when was this place ever rational to begin with?

The moment I got to my feet, a rage so violent it felt like my head would split open, like it would burst out of me at any moment, wrapped around my whole body. Aberration or whatever — screw it all.

"Fucking hell."

I kicked the door open.

It was right there in front of me. That bloated, quivering mass looked down at me — and smiled.

"Ah… aaaaah…"

This was not a voice soaked in fear. It was a body trembling at the edge of a rage with no end in sight.

That body. That smile. Looking at them, the endless rage only swelled larger and larger. "Ffuck, who do you thINK you are, lookin down on m e"— even the words wouldn't come out right. My whole body shuddered. My head wasn't just burning — it felt like it might melt. My teeth ground against each other with a hard click. It was around then that I realized I couldn't hold it in any longer.

—WHAM

By the time I opened my eyes, I was already airborne. Had my body always been this light? Or was that thing just slow? My skull screamed one single, endless demand — tear it apart, kill it — and yet beneath the roar there was perfect stillness. I dodged the swinging arm, then charged again. Straight for the head. Dark red blood sprayed out, and I didn't care. I drove forward — the flank. The mouth. The eyes. The arm. I jammed the mop into it again and again, all over, forcing it to bite deep, all the way through. I didn't know if any of it meant anything. If one strike wouldn't do it, then two, then three — hammering it in, over and over without pause. Would this kill it? Would it end? Could I win? I wanted to tear that whole question apart with my bare hands — and my body carried that feeling for me.

Again. And again. And again. I slammed it down into that thing's body.

"Hah… hah… hah…"

My vision was going blurry. I felt like I'd collapse at any second. I thought I had truly hit my limit — and that was when I saw the message.

A familiar message. Once again.