The SSS-rank Guide Doesn't Need Saving

What happened next turned into a blur.

Excruciating pain beat down on his body, as if gasoline mixed with rotten, unknown liquid was being injected in streams into his veins and mouth. He’d come back to his senses only to feel the pain devouring him from within.

"Ughhh..."

Even now, he was still being forced to absorb this morbid miasma. Under the dim lights, he could see his veins turning black and his skin changing color to ash-gray.

Every single time he was forced to ingest it, he feared it would be his last.

He knew no human could survive being fully corrupted by miasma in large amounts. Thus, the shock he felt whenever he woke up—clinging by a thread—and yet still unable to die made him realize something...

Whoever these people are, they’re not someone who only had the sick desire to make him suffer using this method to torture him. This was a clinically tested experiment that was clearly done for a long time for them to get the exact measurement of miasma a human being could possibly ingest into their bodies without dying for a period of time.

Zenick did not know how long he would stay alive, but he hoped that Aisha wouldn’t be mistreated by other people. He regretted not coming with her to her annulment ceremony, not shielding her from whatever harsh words they threw at her to justify their actions to break off the engagement. And their parents... he could only wish they wouldn’t do anything impulsive to Aisha.

He could hear footsteps getting closer. A woman in a gray coat stood at a floating display, scrolling through data on other pods containing other humans. Her heels echoed as her pen scratched against the paper, nodding her head in contentment when someone met her standard.

Extremely weakened by the surge of miasma being pumped into him, Zenick recognized the woman. It was the same person who whispered those words to him while they attached the tube to his body.

She was a tall woman. At least around 8 to 9 feet tall, with red skin, large eyes, high cheekbones, wide shoulders, and a narrow waist. Her hair was a blue-cyan color, moving like snakes on her head. No matter how humanoid she looked, Zenick knew what she was. An Outerworlder.

He remembered having met her kind. They were meek despite their huge stature, but their speed was lethal. Yet, looking at her, he knew she was different. She possessed both speed and an astounding intellect beyond what her species was known for.

A Chimera. A being of two worlds. A human and a Zorion crossbreed.

"This one is a failure." The woman pointed at the pod she was standing in front of. The vital signs of the man inside the pod had already gone negative, and the miasma had already eaten most of his cells. Then, the woman ordered, "Useless. Throw him inside the Vat."

Two huge men, even taller than the woman, came forward. They pressed something near the pod, producing a soft tapping sound, before the pod ejected the man. Then, they each took the man’s feet and dragged him somewhere into the darkness.

A new pair of huge men with white fabric covering their entire bodies and faces stepped forward, just right behind the woman, as if they were acting as her bodyguards.

"Susa quota’s due is close. We can’t afford another dead one."

His vision swam. Zenick tried to keep himself awake, but the pain was too much; it was clouding his consciousness.

However, his hearing was still working, and he heard the woman speak again, "We’re still short of one more active Vessel. No, make that two with that failure just now. We need to find a replacement soon."

The woman showed no reaction to the gruesome scene of the human male being dragged away to a place only she and her subordinates call ’The Canteen’. She continued her rounds for half an hour before finally coming to a stop in front of Zenick.

"Hm, this is surprising," she said with a hint of slight joy in her voice. "He’s still breathing."

"A tenacious bastard, isn’t he?" A new voice came into the room, and the woman turned her head to glance at the newcomer.

"Holden."

The newcomer, Holden, bowed his head as a greeting to her before he stood beside her.

The woman glanced at him through her awfully large eyes.

"You expect him to survive." It wasn’t a question, but a certainty she felt from Holden, as though he expected that much from this human. She added before Holden could respond, "Though not for long."

Holden scoffed. "Doesn’t matter. For as long as I can see him suffer like this, I don’t care if he dies."

The main purpose of throwing Zenick into this place was not just to add another Vessel, but to torture him. He was sure that ordinary torture methods wouldn’t break Zenick. And surprisingly, he had been right. This brat has too much life force to still be alive till now.

Fortunately, he thought things through and sent Zenick to this horrible place!

"That’s too bad," the woman said, expressing her disappointment. "I’d like to play with him some more. He seems such a good-looking human."

"You mean Vessel."

The woman did not correct him, her focus already on Zenick, who was inside the pod. When Holden brought this male human into their lab, she thought he’d gone against her rules. There’s usually a set date and time for new Vessels to be brought in to not get caught by the Association. But upon seeing his appearance and strong muscular body beneath that formal attire, she couldn’t help but want to test his resilience. See how much miasma he could take into his body without breaking apart.

Holden was all the more accepting of her idea. He even suggested upping the amount of miasma and using Type 4 miasma, a more highly potent form of miasma than the Type 5 miasma they were already using for every one of their Vessels. The woman wanted to reject his suggestion, but she also wanted to know if this male human could be one of those rare Vessels.

The amount of reward for creating a rare Type 4 Vessel was huge and more desirable. Though the risk of a human body crumbling under the corruption of these two types of miasmas was higher.

In the end, they’ve been using a quarter of Type 4 miasma and Type 5 miasma to inject into his body.

A groan slipped past the male human’s lips.

"His name is Zenick?" The woman suddenly asked. When Holden nodded, the woman gestured for one of the huge men to come forward, then she said, "Turn up the Type 4 miasma to half. Let’s see if he can take it." She turned to Holden and asked, "When’s the next hand over?"

Holden replied, "We’ll transport the successful Vessels along with our merchant goods in three days."

"Then, you must hurry and find two more potential Vessels."

Shaking his head, Holden told her, "We can’t do that. The Association has locked down the island and placed an emergency strict security. I heard some of my men say they saw soldiers being sent out to patrol the area."

The woman frowned before glaring at him. "I don’t care. If we don’t meet our quota, we both know we will both end up being punished by the Sovereign. And I won’t hesitate to throw you inside one of these pods to fill the quota if you don’t find a way." She patted him on the shoulder. "Don’t forget, Holden. You’re just another Vessel like Zenick in my eyes."

Holden gritted his teeth before nodding. The woman smiled, patting him on the shoulder twice more, before she turned and left the chamber.

Once he was alone, Holden looked up at where Zenick was submerged inside the pod.

"Zenick, you better pray hard while you’re in there."

Holden pressed his palm against the glass container and smiled wickedly. "I’m going out to find more Vessels who will join you here. But if I don’t... I might have to reunite you with your younger sister soon."

Inside the pod, Zenick’s fingers twitched. But he did not open his eyes, still barely holding onto his consciousness before everything went black.

The last thing he heard was Holden’s boisterous laughter.

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