Exactly twenty minutes had passed since my future fiancée left, and I was left alone with “this.” He “gently,” as much as he could, treated my wounds, although I groaned in places: the stab wound was making itself known.


    “Come to think of it, this is the first time I’ve been stabbed. I imagined it differently, but I still looked ultra-cool."


    — You’re lucky I was here.— Huh?


    The “doctor,” if he could be called that, tried to talk to me, but honestly, I hadn’t been listening to him since “sweetie.” After meeting his sister, I lost all interest in this character. He’s just part of my story and nothing more; in a couple of years, he’ll either die, or maybe he’s just a minor character who will only appear for a few pages, and later everyone will forget about him, or maybe…


    — Are you listening to me?


    — …? Unfortunately, yes…


    And there he goes interrupting my thoughts again… What does he want?


    — I’ll repeat: I said you’re lucky I was here because your wound is deep.


    — Really? It didn’t seem like the knife went in that deep.


    — Yeah, because if the knife had hit a nerve, I’d most likely have had to cut off your arm, ha-ha-ha. But thankfully, that won’t be necessary! You’re very lucky, sweetie.”


    Amputate my arm? Funny, without an arm I’d look even more like a black swordsman. Maybe without it, I’d be a trillion times stronger? MAYBE I WOULD BECOME THE STRONGEST? Quite possible! Back in Japan, I read a lot of different manga where “disabled” characters were also common—one-armed, one-eyed, some didn’t even have legs. Maybe I should ask him to cut off my arm? Just a little bit… Although, no, that’s nonsense. Apparently, I was hit hard on the head if I thought about that…


    — Where are you from?


    — ?!?”


    After he removed the unfamiliar medical instruments, he asked such a silly question: Don’t I look like a typical resident of this “Kingdom/Country?” I seem to fit in perfectly…


    — What makes you think I’m not from here?Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    — Ha-ha, come on. You look different, your clothes are very different from ours, and you talk completely differently. To be honest, I don’t understand half of what you say. -The “doctor” said with a smile.


    — How don’t you understand? We’re speaking the same language, and besides, I understand you perfectly.


    — Maybe you do, but I don’t. You use words I don’t recognize, and the ones I do manage to understand, you twist them up, say them differently than you should. But don’t get offended, okay?


    I was partly amused by this. TRULY, did I have to become an immigrant too… I’m great, and I definitely shouldn’t be one.


    — Are you kidding me?


    —Not at all. Even now, I’m hearing this word for the first time, but logically speaking, you asked me if I was joking, right? If I guessed right, then no, I’m not “kidding you.


    With these words, he moved away from me, then opened the doors of a cabinet and started looking for something, while I, in the meantime, was trying to accept the fact that I was an outsider… Do I really speak so incomprehensibly? It seems clear, right? Maybe he’s just a moron and a dumbass? That seems more like the truth, and besides, he’s a fu…


    — Here. -With these words, he handed me something that looked like pills.


    I silently took them with my “good” hand, then threw them into my mouth.


    — Here’s some water, drink it.


    — No need, I can do it myself.


    — Okay.


    Our dialogue was not working—and that’s good. I didn’t like him from the start—what the hell am I, a sweetie??? Let this bastard finish quickly, and I’ll go on my own way.


    — So, are you going to tell me where you’re from? A foreigner? Or at least tell me your name? Mine is Kir…


    — No, fuck off.


    — Okay…


    His face looked disappointed, but I didn’t care. I also didn’t care about his help. Maybe it was a bit rude of me, I know, but he incredibly annoyed me at the beginning of our “dialogue,” so there’s nothing to be surprised about.


    —  I’m done. You’ll recover in about a week, although with a personality like yours, maybe even less. So, that’ll be ten lumens from you. - (the currency of this world)


    —  Of course, here you go. -With these words, I held out ten yen coins.


    He silently took the coins, then looked closely at them. It seemed like he didn’t like something, but he wasn’t in a hurry to say it.


    —  …


    — …


    —  Unfortunately, I can’t accept these. Not only are these not lumens, but I have no idea what kind of money this is. I’ve never seen anything like it before.


    Taking one of my coins, I said to him:


    —  One of these coins is worth ten ‘lumens,’ understand? You’re rich, kid, be happy.


    —  … Still, I can’t accept this.


    —  I see… I’ve never seen a fool who refuses wealth before.”


    We both started staring at each other: It seemed like whoever spoke first would lose. I didn’t consider myself guilty: I really believe that one Japanese coin is worth ten of these “lu, lumins, lomanins” or whatever.


    —  If you don’t have any money, that means you’ll have to work it off, or otherwise, I’ll call the guards, and then you’ll go to prison.”


    —  Okay.


    Guards? You idiot? You immediately thought of snitching? You bastard… We’re definitely not going to be friends…


    —  So, what have you decided? - he said, looking annoyed.


    —  Mmm… Alright, tell me what I have to do, golden-locks.