OLD-WORLD EXTRA-Chapter 521: Pa Pa Pa Pah~

***

I opened my eyes to darkness, but it wasn't what I was used to.

It wasn't all-encompassing.

Even through the haze of my first moments, I could make out a few things, mainly the ceiling that was far above, made of plywood and some sort of metal, likely aluminum, in the shape of a truss.

That wasn't on my mind at that moment, however, as my focus was almost immediately on the person holding the target, or rather, me, by my legs.

Right, currently, I was being dragged by someone, likely a man, if his rough and calloused hands were any indication.

Then, I felt it—a hard floor scraping beneath me as I was pulled forward, hard, my head smacking against cold tiles with his every step.

Each hit echoed, jarring, leaving bursts of pain shooting through my skull.

My already blurred vision blurred even further, and I could barely make out the figure ahead of me, no matter how many times I tried.

Whoever it was, they were stronger than the average mortal, perhaps a newly Ascendant Celestial, pulling me like I weighed nothing, a ragdoll.

Then I heard it. A song.

"Pa Pa Pa Pah~ We care about your nutrition! Fresh from our farms to your table!"

The tune looped, cheerful and so out of place.

It was some advertisement for Stellar Solution Inc.'s food, the kind that played on all the public channels.

But here, now, in this grim place, it sounded mocking, like a lullaby in a haunted house.

Without a doubt, that marked the introduction to this twisted nightmare that I was about to go through, willingly at that.

Everything was hazy, but as my head hit the ground again, bouncing up, I caught sight of something-machines.

Rows of metal arms, tubes, and containers.

I didn't exactly know what was behind them, but it didn't take a genius to guess that they were some sort of cattle.

Even in my highly confused, concussed, and likely drugged-up state, I could form coherent thoughts, no matter how slow.

"Don't worry..."

But then, taking me out of my thoughts, two sudden words reverberated in my mind.

"They won't eat you alive."

With that, the man dropped my legs, moved over, getting closer to me, close enough that I could see the contours of his face, and grabbed me by my armpits.

Then, with a soft grunt, he pulled me up in one smooth motion as if he'd done this a hundred times and held me in the air for a moment, before I felt the distinct sensation of cold steel pressing against my shoulder, piercing through and holding me up.

It was a hook.

That was when incredible pain began.

I would've called it Hell if I wasn't used to something way worse, but still, it hurt quite a bit, and coming from me that was certainly saying something.

Whoosh...

Adding and almost shrouding what I already felt, a sharp blade sliced both my wrists, neck, stomach, and feet, forcing repeated gasps turned gurgles from my throat.

I couldn't see what the figure did exactly; my vision still shot from being dragged and beaten, but I could feel it—the sting, the slice, the tearing, and the sickening sensation of fast blood loss, dripping into what sounded like a bucket.

So, there I was, left dangling, like some carcass in a butcher shop, waiting to be chopped and served.

Eventually, the pain dulled everything else, but one thing remained to annoy me.

"Pa Pa Pa Pah~ We care about your nutrition! Fresh from our farms to your table!"

That damn song kept playing, looping, never-ending.

And before I got sick of it, attempted to take my own life by swallowing my tongue, death took me of its own volition. But... it seemed that this nightmare had other plans for me.

Just as quickly as it ended, I blinked and I was back, smacking against the tiles again, being dragged across the floor like nothing had happened.

"Pa Pa Pa Pah~ We care about your nutrition! Fresh from our farms to your table!"

'... What?'

My mind reeled as it caught up to what had just happened.

Everything was repeating, and though I knew that it'd happen in some way, I still didn't expect it, at least not like this.

After all, this was extremely different than the usual dive.

There were no 'Storms,' no puzzles to solve, nothing to bring together.

It was the recreation of the last moments of the target's life.

Now I understood why the Netweavers had died.

It was not the experience itself.

As traumatizing as this was, the Netweavers could handle it still.

So no, it was what happened after-their minds couldn't handle the backlash, the way everything hit you all at once when you try to exit.

'But I'm not them. I can handle this. I've been through worse.'

That thought cemented my plan and I let the nightmare unfold again, every twisted detail burning itself into my mind.

The dragging, the smacking of my head on the tiles, that damn song-until I'm stabbed, hoisted onto that hook, cut, and left to hang there until death consumed me again.

And again, I blinked.

"Pa Pa Pa Pah~ We care about your nutrition! Fresh from our farms to your table!"

The loop started once more.

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This time, after I had memorized the sequence of events, I forced myself to focus on the details, pushing the pain to the back of my mind.

I took in everything around me.

The machines, the rows of strange livestock lined up, hooked to tubes, their fluids being

extracted automatically.

The place was massive, but it appeared small, cramped, and every piece of equipment bore the same insignia-a three-pronged icon, the mark of Stellar's lesser-known subsidiary,

AgroTech.

Whoever set up this hellhole either worked with AgroTech or at least wanted to make sure it looked like they did.

I leaned toward the former.

Blink.

"Pa Pa Pa Pah~ We care about your nutrition! Fresh from our farms to your table!"

Another death, and I was back, the ground beating me black and blue, the same looping song

overhead.

I started putting the pieces together.

I knew of this place, where this barn was located, it was obvious.

Corp Plaza.

One of those "high-efficiency" setups in the plaza, just a cog in the corporate machine.

The fact that my target was killed here, in AgroTech property, meant something. Whoever wanted him dead likely had connections to Stellar, or at least to the corporate world.

Rather, they didn't just 'want him dead;' they wanted him erased, eaten, and turned into shit. But somehow, Amon had managed to nab his brain before it was eaten.

Perhaps it was because of the killer, this farm owner.

He likely had kept the brains of his victims hidden as a fail-safe, to use as leverage if he was

ever betrayed or ratted out by his employer.

Because, well, Stellar wasn't doing this to achieve an objective.

It was simply another way to make money.

Someone simply hired them to hide the evidence of their target's existence.

And this 'someone' was a person only those working in the corporation could know.

Typical Corpo games, though at least this one unintentionally benefited the Academy.