What if you were suddenly transported to another world? As a creative individual, I love Isekai stories, along with mystery films, documentaries, and comedy-dramas. Watching and reading helps me unwind and escape from the stress of overworking.

Usually, in Isekai tales, people wake up as someone else—like a princess, a villainess, a baby, or a maid from a powerful family. So why am I here as myself, with no money, no family, and worse, a captive who could die any second? Whoever created this world should take my place and die instead!

“What an impressive achievement, General Helion. Once again, you have proven that you deserve your new title.”

“You praise me too much, Your Majesty. I am certain that if His Highness, the Prince, were to join us, the other forces would accomplish our goals much sooner than expected.”

The urge to see what's happening above is almost unbearable, yet fear anchors my eyes to the ground. We've been ordered to kneel with our hands tied behind our backs. My legs are starting to go numb from the extended wait as the nobles endlessly reward themselves. Despite the discomfort, the thought of seeing a real king and prince for the first time fills me with a thrilling curiosity that I can hardly suppress.

"That can’t be helped. Well, I am very much looking forward to seeing what kind of slave you have brought this time."

"Of course, Your Majesty, let me present to you a strong, and fortunate warrior to serve you."

The warriors paraded us one by one, presenting us as slaves without so much as a glance at our faces. Despite the brevity of my glimpse, the surroundings were clear enough to realize the hopelessness of escape. We were encircled by fully equipped warriors, every one of them exuding strength. Just imagining a single flick of their hands on my forehead made me shudder.

"Like hell, we will serve you! Pwe! We are proud warriors of Aldo Kingdom! We will serve no king other than our own!" one of the captive warriors shouted, struggling fiercely against his captor.

‘Woah! That one has guts! Hearing such defiant words, it's like something out of a movie, but being in this situation is truly terrifying.’ I silently cheered and admired their bravery

"We refuse to bow to an arrogant man such as yourself! We'd rather die than serve a man like you!"

The seven captives began to revolt but were swiftly subdued by their guards, their heads forcibly bowed, some even bleeding in the process. I really admire their bravery, but I chose to remain quiet, hoping to avoid further injury and attention to myself. Perhaps there would be a chance to escape later, and I needed to preserve my strength. However, my silence drew the king's attention.

"I like how resilient and strong they are. It makes it more enjoyable to train them. But what’s with that one? He looks weak."

The words sent a jolt of fear through me. I wasn’t even looking at them, but I knew he was referring to me. My body reacted instinctively, trembling with terror.

"Let me see its face," the king commanded.

A warrior behind me forced my head up, revealing my face. I saw two thrones on different levels of a stage. An old man, presumably the king, sat at the top with a long sword standing beside him, probably symbolizing the power he holds, while a younger man sat below with a simple throne, looking bored by the proceedings.

The younger man's long black hair complemented his warm-toned skin. His golden eyes, paired with thick brows which the other had a scar, glistened ominously, like a predator eyeing its prey, sending a shiver down my spine. Oh God! He looked like a prince from the underworld.

As I tried to avoid their gaze, my eyes caught an even more disturbing scene. Two women, adorned in beautiful clothes, stood beside them, golden chains trailing from their necks to their feet, while half of their faces were covered with thin clothes. My stomach twisted at the sight—these weren’t just pretty decorations. Their eyes were hollow, dead. What kind of place was this where beauty came shackled, and a single wrong move could mean execution? It sent a cold chill through me. Was this going to be my fate, too? If I couldn’t talk my way out of this, I might not just die—I might be forced to live here.

“Hmm… He doesn’t look great either.”

‘What did that old man say?!’

“I don’t need that one. You may kill him,” the king commanded, waving his hand dismissively as if ordering my execution.

‘Ha! This triple M. I might look disheveled now, but I’m confident in my looks. I’m pretty enough to be courted by multiple men!’

(AN: Triple M means Matandang, Mayaman madaling, Mamatay. In english, the old rich who are easy to die. )

“Wa… wait, wait!”

I had so many things to say to that old man, but more importantly, if they dragged me outside, I was sure I’d be dead. I could even see a black aura emanating from the golden door as they prepared to drag me away.

“I’m not one of them! I’m not a soldier—or a warrior or anything. I was just a normal citizen; no, I was a hostage!” I shouted, struggling against their grip, but my strength was failing me. I was gasping for breath when they finally stopped dragging me. I saw the prince raise his hand, and the warrior immediately halted. “Is it true?” He wasn’t talking to me but to another captive warrior. Instead of them answering, I responded hastily.

“T…They don’t know. I mean, those people wouldn’t know because I was secretly held captive. I managed to run away but boarded the wrong cart. It turns out what I was riding was a cart of weapons for war, so I found myself stuck in your conflict.”

‘What the hell am I saying? But I’ve got their attention, so what can I do to survive? Should I dance? Sing?’

“Hmm…” The prince looked at me, considering the plausibility of my words.

“That’s not true! Our people would never hold a citizen captive!” one of the captive warriors protested.

‘I’m sorry, but if I’m dragged out, I’ll surely die. Why should I die? At least you all will be kept alive, but what about me?’

“Do you know who and why they took you?” the prince asked.

I took a big gulp, preparing to lie through my teeth. “I was held captive by what they called a general (oh god, I hope their general is already dead) and managed to escape, but I didn’t know the ride I got into would go to war. I mean, think about it, what could a small person like me can even do there?” I added, watching him mull over my words.

“But you survived among these warriors. That’s a remarkable feat, considering the nature of our men.” The young man looked down on me with glistening eyes. He was testing me. One wrong word and I was sure I’d die.

“That… that’s because I hid among the dead bodies until I lost consciousness.”

'Well, it’s not a complete lie. No one will remain sane after seeing a head fall in front of you.’

“Then why would a general be interested in a mere citizen like you?”

“Well,”** I don’t know either.

‘Come on, think, think, think. What would be a good answer? There’s no way that bored faces will be interested in modern dance or songs. What could it be, those stone-carved pillars etched with cryptic symbols? Symbols, numbers, letters…’

“I…I can read and write different languages.” I blurted out, eyes closed, praying this lie would save me. If nothing worked, I was certain I’d die.

I felt the air thicken as gasps echoed around me, following what I had impulsively blurted out. My words were inspired by a massive stone etched with mysterious inscriptions that I had seen earlier. They bore a resemblance to Egyptian hieroglyphs carved onto tombs and temples that I used to watch in documentaries, yet this stone was unique—its message interwoven with numbers, letters, and enigmatic symbols. I remembered thinking the markings seemed important—almost like a riddle. Did they have something to do with this kingdom’s past? Or was it a warning of something even worse to come? I had no idea, but the way the prince’s eyes lingered on me now... it made me wonder if my ability to read might have set something much larger in motion than just saving my skin.

“Prove it.” The prince rose from his seat, his imposing figure and flowing black hair framing eyes that now sparkled with intrigue. Under different circumstances, I might have admired his striking appearance, but at that moment, he was the biggest threat to my life.

‘Damn it! How can I prove something I don’t even understand? My neck will surely meet the blade if they find out I'm lying. What can I do?’

A single drop of cold sweat, tinged with blood, splattered onto the ground as a warrior's forceful grip compelled me to bow when the prince stood. The stinging pain from a smack on my head was far from welcome, yet it sparked a desperate idea. I dipped my finger into the pool of blood and began to scrawl a word.

Scribble: +AnHG!nHanNgH buUhH@yY TtO mMamH/-m4+AayY nNa B@ Kk()? 

Translate: Fuck this life, am I going to die?

(AN: "Jejemon" is a term used in the Philippines to describe people who make the English language difficult to read. They are also known for their unique subculture and fashion and are sometimes described as a "new breed of hipster.")

I exhaled deeply, feeling a desperate, absurd idea take root in my mind. It was insane. The last time I’d used Jejemon was back in high school when my friends and I wrote notes to each other in what could only be described as the world’s ugliest code. Who knew my wasted youth would save my life? But there was no time to second-guess now. Jejemon or death, I thought grimly, dipping my fingers into the blood on the ground. Silently praying that my neglected Jeje days would serve me now...

”Your Majesty, I will make use of this man.”

‘What? Did it actually work?!’

Confusion swirled as I was ordered to be escorted away, but I couldn’t shake the prince’s gaze as he watched me. His golden eyes seemed to pierce through my shaky façade, as if he knew I was lying but found the charade too entertaining to end just yet. What did he want from me? Was this just a game to him, or did he have plans that I couldn’t yet see? I wanted to feel relief, but instead, the sense of being a pawn in a much larger, more dangerous game only deepened.

Relief washed over me; somehow, my desperate scribbling had succeeded. Gratitude filled my heart for those bygone Jejemon days. T-T