Jiji no. 8

Chosen

“Hey,” beside Holder, his friend—the only one he have in the training camp: Jude—nudged his elbow towards him. “Isn’t she beautiful?” he asked, pertaining to the professor up above the balcony.

“Yeah, she is,” Holder answered dreamily.

“I wish I could personally touch her violet-dyed hair.”

“Hey man,” Holder looked at him. “You sounded maniac,” he said jokingly.

Jude laughed at him and said, “Well, she’s a woman I think every guy would think perfect and ideal.”

“I cannot agree more,” Holder said, returning his stare to the professor who was smiling and standing at the balcony, like a princess.

“But do you know she still has flaws?” Jude asked.

“Does she?”

“Yeah. You know, every human shall have flaws, or else they are not human anymore.”

“What is that, then?” Holder, curious, broke his stare away from the professor, and looked back to Jude.

“Really, you’re still new to the Central Kingdom. Professor Maxxes was known for her being alcoholic. She was even called ‘The Drunken Professor’ by most of the people in the Central Kingdom.”

“She loves to drink?”

“Undeniably.”

He then looked back at the professor. Looking at her, she was, perhaps, ten years older than him. Yet, her glow is still youthful, and the smile in her face is definitely contagious. But who could have known that this professor is an alcohol lover? Everyone, everyone, except him.

“But she is known also as a sadist. One who doesn’t care of anything just to get what she wanted, especially if it is talking about researches in the Majicule.”

A boom of loud voice suddenly erupted from the balcony.

“TICAAAASS!”

Looking at the balcony, it was a command given by the general of the Central Soldier, General Balfor. That command made them to quickly stop their murmurs and talks, and jolted for a proper and alerted stand.

“You army reservist doesn’t just do anything but to slack! How are you supposed to protect the Central Kingdom if you’re not well-disciplined!”

There erupted an eerie silence in the whole training camp after the general scolded the whole reservists. Holder’s face burned in red soon as he heard it. He was ashamed for the whole reservists and to his self as well for he had not disciplined his self as well. Perhaps, everyone is afraid if the general is the one to give a scolding.

“Hey now, General Balfor, you are too hot headed.” Professor Zen Maxxes started to talk, and interfered the general. “We can have a peaceful talk. You could not just throw away hurtful words to this jackals.”

Holder wanted to look down on the ground, but with the general’s command, he cannot. Hearing what the professor said, he was so embarrassed. It was not just for him, but for everybody in the reservist. But then, her words hurt like a stung of giant bee. And by feeling the gloom aura in the whole surrounding, Holder is sure that the other reservists are feeling the pain too.

To be called as jackals were mentally excruciating.

“Greetings, army reservists! I am Professor Maxxes. I’m sure you know it, but I just introduce in case for formality. How was your day, by the way? Is it the sun shining beautifully today?”

No one answered. No one is allowed.

The professor then pouted and felt sad from the replied silence. “Boring.”

The slime she was hugging suddenly moved and jiggled away of her hands. In a flashy stroke, the slime now stood at the stone railings of the balcony. It looked and observed them, analyzing everyone standing in the midst of hot mid-noon.

“Ah, by the way,” the professor started talking again, “We are here for a special mission. And I am quite excited from the result of that mission!”

No one replied at her. Another silence deafen the whole surrounding.

“Uh, General, is it okay if you let them ease a bit? I’m uncomfortable talking here, as if I talk with air.”

The general followed her request. “Hinga!” and the whole army reservist broke of from their utter silence and alerted posture. They heaved a sigh, and started murmuring to each other, asking what could be that mission Professor Maxxes told.

Among the reservists, those at the back—which Holder belong—were the only one who maintained their silences. They may have eased their stances, but they kept quite and alert.

“Alright! This is much better!” the professor exclaimed. “Now do you know what is that mission I’ve been telling?”

The attention of the army reservists went back to the professor. Then they nodded, and said, “Yes!" as a reply.

“Fascinating. Now the mission includes you, reservists.”

Holder knew that already. That it was a special training for them. But what kind of training could it be, and what kind of beast would be unleashed?

“I am looking for a special person. A strong and dedicated one who can join with us, and help the Central kingdom reach its ultimate defense. In short, a person who is ready to be part of the elite class of Soldiers who is the foundation of the Agnosbadtt’s ultimate defense. And we believe, and hope, that one of you would meet the standards.”

The whole group of reservists grew excited as the professor told what she was after for. Their eyes lit up and started to be filled with utmost excitement to participate in this possible selection of that said elite soldier.

“And by means of Elite class, it was way more higher position than being an army or an A-class soldier, or even central palace’s magic knights.”

The whole training camp were more shocked. How could be this kind of offer come to them? Or possibly come to one of them? Imagine, higher than the A-class guards, and higher than the position of General Balfor—for a general is also a palace’s magic knight. It was such an unbelievable offer.

Holder felt excited too, of course. Hearing the fact that he can have a higher position than a general or a knight, how tempting that could be?

But something felt wrong.

Why would a professor of high rank would bother looking here, in the lowest position of armies if they are looking for someone as an elite soldier? Weren’t it more inconspicuous if they get that person they are finding if they look at a higher-ranked officials? Perhaps to the A-class soldiers. Or to the knights. Or they can even promote General Balfor in that position.

But why them?

It is, by conclusion, too weird.

“Professor, how could we qualify from that position?” From the front, Holder heard Mr. Sandler talking and asking about the qualification.

“Mr. Sandler’s interested from the professor’s announcement,” Holder said.

“Why not? He’s a real jackal,” Jude replied.

Holder almost laughed from Jude’s reply. If by means he failed to remember that they were in the training camp, he would have laugh too hard, and he would have embarrass himself to the whole people present in the training camp.

“Oh, thank you for that question, Mister . . .”

“Sandler. Mr. Sandler, professor.”

“Mr. Sandler,” the professor repeated. “I only have one task for all of you in order for me to identify that you’re indeed qualified for the position.”

The whole group of army reservists fell silent. They waited for the professor’s next word. Even Holder, he cannot deny, that he was waiting for the professor’s explanation.

“Can you see this slime?” Professor Maxxes pointed the slime still standing at the stone guardrail of the balcony. “This creature is named Jiji no. 8. If by any chance you can defeat this slime on a fight, or even capture him, or tame, or whatever you want—just make sure that he wouldn’t run wild with your presence—then that would be my basis for qualification. Instantly, you will be part of the Agnosbadtt’s foundation of maximum defense.

By that, the whole army reservists shifted their attention to the slime standing at the guardrail.

“That’s it, Professor?” Mr. Sandler asked.

“Yes, that is.”

“Is there a harder task available than capturing a slime, Professor?” Mr. Sandler asked while smiling foolishly.

“What do you mean?” The professor then asked with a cold blood-shot of stare. The other reservists felt that, and even tried to stop Mr. Sandler. But Sandler himself is insensitive.

“I mean, professor. I knew my self and my worth. We know ourselves more than anyone else. And it wouldn’t satisfy me if I deal with the fact that I became a higher-ranked official just because I defeated an ugly slime.”

From beside Holder, Jude slapped his forehead out of disappointment. “This old geezer,” he said, “how fool can he be?”

Holder sighed. His intuition about this game is still dark and heavy. That despite the fact the place is sunny and vibrant, it felt gloomy and . . . something heavy.

“There is a reason why the slime,” Holder said.

“There is,” Jude replied.

“Then be the first one to attack, Mr. Sandler. If by any chance you have defeated or tamed that slime, then I would order soldiers to summon a Firebertooth. And you could kill it.”

“Very well, then, professor.” Mr. Sandler prepared himself. He stretched his body as if waking up from a festive morning. Even stretched his face by doing funny postures. He jumped, and then made a fighting stance.

Perhaps, the beautiful professor was too annoyed with him that she scoffed as she look at the slime.

“Jiji,” she called. “Your time.”

The slime looked at the challenger. It then jumped and landed on the sandy ground where the army reservist’s training is being held.

“By the way, if you want to be hailed as part of the elite class, then, I suggest you to compete with Mr. Sandler. You wouldn’t want him to just give the title, right?” Professor Zen told, smiling in mock.

The other reservists started to move as well, and made a fighting stance.

“Fools! Like hell if you can compete with me! You can’t level my skill!” Mr. Sandler—the man who is at the fifth year in training and still not being promoted as a ranked soldier—told.

“That funny man. You want to try it too, Holder?” Jude asked.

“I don’t know. I feel like I want too, but, something is stopping me,” Holder answered.

“What is it, then? I am actually planning to join the game.”

“Smell of blood,” holder asked. From that, Jude stopped.

The huge and boastful reservists started to attack the slime at the front.

“What do you mean blood?” Jude asked with a grim look.

“I can smell and feel it, I don’t know. Something . . . something unknown is twisting my stomach. And I don’t like it.”

“You must be sick. Be sure to go to the infirmary after this.”

War screams covered the whole camp. Then a pained, gurgling shriek. Then a splatter sound—as if a thick liquid substance being smashed to the wall.

Holder looked from the source of the scream.

He saw Mr. Sandler’s horrified expression—like a man who saw ghost: wide eyes, hanging mouth, paled lips, and the signature of indescribable fear.

Holder would have laugh at it. But he did not.

“Wh—What?” he heard Jude asking in disbelief.

For the once Mr. Sandler was now just a severed head. His once bulky body was splattered, like a grinded meat in pasta o’violli sprinkled in the dry, sandy ground. The blood slowly crept and pooled to the sand.

It was just a second when they gazed away from the scene of Mr. Sandler and other reservists attacking the slime. But now the whole place is filled with dead, bloodied bodies.

The other reservists stood frozen. Feared. The lines of the reservists who were being mistreated in the training camp just like Holder, started to run away.

Holder and Jude remained standing. They were stunned by the gross scene.

Holder scanned the whole surrounding to find the reason of that monstrous assaults.

And there he saw a beast—which he knew, somehow, the slime—looking angrily at one reservist who was running away.

It was not in the form of a small and black slime anymore. It was more beastly.

Still red bloodshot eyes, and black complexion. But his body is peculiarly formed. It has two extremely huge and muscular arms which is enclosed in fist, and standing in the ground, as if it was a feet—or was it? He was like a mud beast—a monster formed in swamps and lakes, like a ghostly creature who can eat your soul away. But the slime, perhaps, is an advanced form of that beast, for it was quickly moving. It’s sharp razor-like teeth is baring, and a green colored saliva is dropping from its rabid mouth.

In a snap, that slime-turned-demon jolted and appeared at the back of the running reservist.

“Holy s**t, Holder!” Jude said, freaking in panic, and started running away.

The man who was running was now just a remain of two legs laying flatly on the ground, as if a beaten plastic figurine left by a sadistic toddler.

“Hey Jude, don’t run you are—shit.” Holder’s body shook. He paled. His lips quivered in fear as well. His knees weaken, making him to fall down the ground, and succumb from despair.

Why?

What’s happening? He asked himself.

“Wh—What kind of creature is that?” he whispered.

The burning sun hitting him has been covered with cloud.

Or not.

He looked above, and saw a creature of darkness peering down on him. Its greenish thick saliva dropping from his mouth.

Holder started to breath in panic and fear and sudden exhaustion. It felt like he had an asthma or a pneumonia from the extreme kind of fear that creature is giving to him.

“H-Help.” He started moving away from the creature by creeping helplessly on the ground.

“H—Help!” he looked for someone who could help him, but no one. Only him remained—and the dead bodies.

“Help!” he was desperate.

He looked above the balcony where the professor and other guards and soldiers are standing. He saw the fear and concern look at Balel and General Balfor’s face. They wanted to help him. But the sadist professor was signaling them to hault—and they can’t do anything from it.

I guess it’s my time to die? Too sad, I will be disappointing Baba Cicero and father and the people at Hem, he thought.

He stopped asking for help. No one would answer from that.

Is this really the end?

Well, at least he tried. Sometimes, not all dreams are coming true—most, fail and fall in the pit of despair.

The black creature used its huge arm to grab Holder. It laid him to stand. His knees are weak, but he managed to stand. At least. The slime had faced him with baring fangs and furious look.

Holder, surprisingly, remained standing. He looked at the creature with undeniable fear. But somehow, he managed to look back at the creature. Somehow, he found the strength to face it, even though his knees were shaking.

Then, what happened next had surprised him.

The creature shape-shifted back into the first form it had: a small, black and jiggly slime. It jumped near Holder’s chest. Holder managed to catch it with his two shaking arms. The slime made two moving rope-like part of his body, and motioned Holder’s arms to cover the him—to hug and be comforted by his warmth.

“Wh—What?” he muttered.

And then, “Yes!”

A joyful scream from the professor above.

He looked at her. And there, he saw, a woman who is widely grinning at him, two thumbs is motioned up, telling him that he was the chosen.

He was Jiji no. 8’s chosen user.