Chimera Tunnels (6)

As Cyril stared at the plants rushing to kill him, a figure dressed in black suddenly carried him away, and as he was rushed away, he watched a duplicate of himself get smashed to bits, flesh and gore, before his vision was covered by something dark.

When Cyril regained his sight, all he could see was a familiar bearded face and a rocky ceiling with plenty of stalagmites hanging down while dripping water.

The bearded face smiled at him before the man started speaking in a voice that sounded like it was coming through water.

"It seems that you can't move, so if you would like me to heal you, move your eyes up and down. You just have to do me one little favor."

Cyril stared blankly at the man before his brain slowly comprehended the words.

The body can't move?

He tried moving his body again, but like the man said, nothing moved.

Not even a little twitch.

Since he couldn't move his body no matter what he did, he thought about the rest of the man's words for a bit before looking side to side in refusal.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

One little favor was never little, and the meaning changed depending on who was asking.

Getting trapped by such a vague statement would be stupid.

"…you don't want me to heal you? How come?" The dark brown eyes of the bearded man lit up with interest as he stared at the pale young man who was completely drenched in blood and looked to be at death's door.

In fact, his instincts were pushing him to help the guy along to the afterlife and really test whether he would spit coins out, but he restrained himself.

Cyril looked up and down while pouring all of his condescension into his eyes.

In a world of yes or no answers, you're asking a question that needs a full sentence response?

Ask a different question dammit!

He began to mentally curse the man, wishing he could mentally force his thoughts into his head.

The bearded man looked thoughtful for a moment before smiling wildly.

"Ah. Could it be you want to know why I'm healing you? Or what I want as a favor?"

Yes!

Cyril quickly moved his eyes up and down.

Why would you bother rescuing or healing me?

What do you want in return?

Spit it out.

"Well…seeing you absorb those plants as you were running away had me thinking. Rather than a subspace ability…aren't you an employee of H.E.L.P Apocalypse Co., specifically the Life Preservation Team?"

It was a question asked with a confident tone.

As if he already knew the answer.

Even though the man was smiling, his dark eyes were completely cold and glued to Cyril's face.

Seeing no reason to hide it, Cyril glanced up and down.

Yes yes. Let's move on.

"I thought so. It's not that big of a favor. Just give me three meals of those meal boxes a day while we're trapped here, and when we get out, I'd like you to build me a small building on your property. Just a little chapel where I can conduct some services, aid the community, and continue living a pious life while spreading the word of god. I am a Father in the church, you know. You can call me Father John, like all of my constituents. If you'd like, we can say a prayer together right now."

Cyril: ಠ_ಠ

He could only stare in complete disbelief at the man claiming to be a religious man of the church.

Wasn't this the man who had speed assassinated pixies in their sleep? Even shoving him out of the way when he was moving to slow?

And now he was claiming to be a pious figure? And wants to pray for me?

If he were Father John, Cyril would claim that he was Joan of Arc, a saint of the Catholic Church.

Seeing the expression of disbelief, Father Jonathan Rossi laughed while waving a small glass bottle filled with dark black liquid.

"I'm not the type to force my faith on others, so let's skip ahead. What do you think? You've lost a lot of blood, and your body is getting cold fast. By the swelling and purple color, I think your legs are poisoned, and you still can't move after all this time has passed. If this continues, even if you survive, you might be paralyzed forever. For the small price of 3 meals a day while we're stuck in this dungeon, and a small chapel built immediately on your property for me to use at my discretion, I'll protect you thoroughly while we're in this dungeon and can even introduce you to a good…let's say, chef for your establishment. I can even promise to follow any rules you have for your property…within reason, of course. Shall we make a deal? If not, just say no. I won't ask again since it would be good to save this potion for my personal emergency."

Staring at the man shaking the bottle above him with completely cold eyes, Cyril thought about it for a moment while weighing his options.

Healing - good.

Protection - good.

Chef - also good.

Building something on the waystation? It was whatever.

Allowing a person he didn't know to have free rein over it - bad.

If the man caused trouble, did he think Alexei and Fen could take care of him? Undoubtedly yes.

So the net evaluation was good.

Seeing no actual losses for himself, Cyril moved his eyes up and down.

"I thought you would agree. I'm Father Jonathan Rossi. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cyril Alexander Taylor."

As Cyril's eyes wavered for a bit, Jonathan Rossi laughed before answering the unasked question.

"I saw the book you flung at that thing's face. Even though I couldn't pick it up, it was open to a page that had your name on it. You have pretty good aim. Now say ahh~"

And as if he had been waiting, Jonathan popped the top off the glass bottle.

Then he lifted Cyril's head onto his lap, gently plugging his nose before pouring the black liquid down his throat and putting him in a headlock.

As Cyril's body jerked as the healing took effect, snapping broken bones into place and healing everything from wounds to bruises on the pale face, Jonathan Rossi gently held the pale young man in a headlock, resisting the urge to twist it while making sure that his flailing didn't cause any more injuries.

Throughout, he kept his Stealth skill active, shrouding the two of them in silence and shadows so that even if somebody were to enter and walk past them, they wouldn't be able to see or hear anything. Even that rampaging

When Cyril finally stopped jerking around, his pale blue eyes narrowed in a scowl, Jonathan gently brushed the damp hair aside, using the remaining blood to habitually draw a cross on the exposed forehead.

"Stop that." A grumpy voice came out as Cyril pushed Jonathan away before standing up.

Quickly moving around, he examined his body, noticing that everything was filthy and covered in blood. Still, thankfully, his body was fully healed with no lingering pain and no new scars added.

"Seems that you're prone to getting seriously injured, huh. Good thing your face didn't scar this time. It would be a shame." Jonathan lightly commented as he stared at the thick, raised red scar that ran across Cyril's torso before being hidden by his shirt.

"Would it?"

Cyril simply stretched, making sure everything felt like it was in one piece before sitting down.

"Let's talk."

In response, Jonathan held his hand out with a smile.

"What?"

"Food first. I'm hungry."

"Oh. Sure. Just one or all three?"

"One for now."

Cyril quickly opened the employee meal tab, chose a hamburger set meal, and handed it over to the man, who quickly unwrapped it, scarfed it down, and stared at him in amusement.

"What do you want to ask?"

"Where did you get the potion, and how did you know that it would heal me?"

Jonathan tapped his lips for a moment while thinking through the story of how he had assassinated the head priest of his parish, stolen the potion that the priest tried to use on the verge of death, and assumed his position after disguising the death as a horrible accident due to monsters.

Seeing the pale eyes analyzing him, he lightly spoke the truth to gauge the kids' response.

"Killed somebody and stole it when they tried to heal their gruesome injuries with it."

"Oh. Well, I'm glad it worked, I guess?"

Cyril blinked before changing the subject.

"How did you get here? You seem to know more than you're letting on."

To summarize, Jonathan was a kind priest (doubtful) who came to do volunteer work (most likely a lie) to earn meals for his constituents and to investigate why the women and children kept disappearing.

After being captured (willingly), he had arrived at this location.

As he entertained himself while exploring (the entertainment or duration of said entertainment was unexplained), he met Cyril.

When Cyril started his escape plan, Jonathan took the opportunity to earn coins and attempt to take down the boss.

Unfortunately, the boss was immune to the poison used by the pixies, and it boosted its strength and caused it to rampage wildly.

After being hit once, Jonathan decided to observe rather than engage in battle.

At his last count, one person had died, one had been seriously injured, and two were on the run.

While he was observing Cyril and seeing that he had utilized unique skills, Jonathan decided to rescue him, which led to their current situation.

As Jonathan finished telling his story, which had many missing points, Cyril blinked before asking him a question.

"And how did you know that I worked for H.E.L.P Apocalypse Co? You sounded like you had personal experience and knew a lot of information."

"I wonder?" Jonathan had a casual expression and a noncommittal smile.

"Are you working for them too?"

"Hmmm."

"Where did you say your church was based again? Maybe I heard of it."

"I doubt that. You don't seem to be very religious. You even wiped the cross from your forehead."

Cyril: "......"

"Which military group did you say you were working with?"

"Did I ever say such a thing? They all look the same in their uniforms, and I just take their handouts as a member of the clergy and do my part in helping."

Cyril: ಠ_ಠ

Father Jonathan Rossi: (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Seeing that he wouldn't get any answers to his pressing questions, Cyril sighed before changing tactics.

"Whatever. How do we get out of here?"

"Getting out is pretty simple. Kill the boss, and it should transfer us back to the main tunnel area."

"Can't we just find a portal? Because I came through one, even though it disappeared."

"I've already checked and there is none, but if you don't believe me, feel free to explore. By yourself."

"You're not going to protect me? Didn't we make a deal?"

"I don't participate in things with impossible odds and usually don't stop those who do, but now that I think about it, since you used my valuable potion without paying me back, should I just paralyze you from the waist down? That way you can't run around even though your running is quite slow."

As Cyril stared at him blankly, Jonathan reached out and patted his cheek with a fatherly smile that didn't reach his dark brown eyes.

"It seemed to work well earlier, so let's use that smart brain and the fun item store to come up with something that can help us leave as soon as possible. Okay?" Jonathan's smile continued to grow warmer, as if he were trying to become the patron saint of the church, and he continued patting Cyril's cheek like a child.

Cyril: ಠ_ಠ

"If you're not happy, don't smile, and if you're angry, just frown. What are you faking in front of me for?"

"What?"

With an annoyed sigh, Cyril pinched the skin on the back of Jonathan's hand with two fingers and threw it aside.

"I said that I'd prefer if you didn't touch me while smiling that fake smile of yours. It grosses me out. Also, did you get my shovel? If we're going to escape, I need it."