A sharp pain throbbed through my head, as though millions of needles were piercing it all at once.
I opened my eyes to a worn, cracked ceiling.
I was sitting on a wooden chair, my feet dangling above the floor.
I tried to stand, but it was useless.
I was bound tightly.
"It's almost time."
"Didn't you hear? The Sage said he needs a little more time."
Two men in dark robes exchanged a few hurried words before turning toward me.
One of them raised a hand and examined my face with a scrutinizing gaze.
Damn it.
Being tied up while a strange man touched my face wasn't exactly a pleasant feeling.
My body felt unbearably heavy.
I could barely keep my eyes open.
He withdrew his hand and calmly said to the other man,
"Other than his appearance, nothing has changed."
The other man stepped closer and pressed a finger against my lips.
The scent of musk clung to him.
I didn't hesitate.
I bit his finger as hard as I could.
The man jerked back, yanking his hand away before stumbling backward until his foot struck the leg of the chair.
"You said he was disoriented! Why is he still able to move?!"
"He is."
The man raised his bleeding finger.
"Then how do you explain this?"
"He's disoriented, not dead."
"..."
The man I'd bitten returned with a vengeful look in his eyes, holding a strange glass vial.
His intention was obvious.
I bared my teeth and pulled my head back as far as I could.
As he tried to force the liquid down my throat, the chair lost its balance.
'Ah...'
I silently cursed this body, which was already in pain from nothing more than my head striking the floor.
It was too late.
Darkness swallowed me whole.
From the floor, I gave the two mysterious men one last glance.
'Not again...'
After William lost consciousness, one of the men reached up and touched the back of his own head.
He looked at the blood staining his fingertips, set his concern aside, and continued with his task.
He forced the strange liquid into William's mouth, tossed the empty vial aside, and asked urgently,
"What do we do now? He doesn't look well."
"We don't have time to worry about him. We have to send him back."
***
I had no idea how much time had passed while I drifted through the darkness.
"William... Wake up."
Someone breathed close to my face...
My cheek felt wet.
A quiet, pleading voice reached my ears.
"William... Wake up."
'I'll wake up... Just stop crying all over my face.'
The moment that thought finally came together in my mind, I opened my eyes.
I sat up so abruptly that my forehead slammed into someone else's.
An eight-year-old boy with white hair and tear-filled blue eyes rubbed his forehead with a pout.
"That's not fair..."
The moment he realized I was awake, he climbed off the floor, jumped onto the luxurious bed, and wrapped his arms around me.
Despite his small size, he almost managed to envelop my entire body.
"What the..."
I'd had a bad feeling earlier, but with everything happening, I hadn't been able to figure out why.
Now, after seeing this child...
I understood.
The boy seemed to sense that something was wrong.
He knitted his brows anxiously.
"Does it still hurt somewhere...? Should I call the doctor?"
I smiled and pushed him away.
His eyes widened, but that wasn't my concern.
He jumped back in alarm.
"Brother... Is your head injury really that serious?"
The stubborn child grabbed my sweaty hand again.
'Disgusting.'
I pulled my hand away.
Then...
"H-Hey... William..."
I punched him.
I didn't know whether he was actually hurt or merely pretending.
Either way, I felt a sense of victory as I watched him run toward the door, shouting.
And why wouldn't I?
I'd finally been given the chance to punch the very person responsible for my defeat while he was still just a child.
I tightened my grip on the blanket and looked out the window.
The sun was shining brightly outside.
"Who would've thought I'd go back twenty years?"