Cartel Experience-Chapter 60: Real Pain and Fear.

It wasn’t surprising. There was nothing shocking about it, as it was just too obvious that she wasn’t alone. Like the fact that she had on the bulletproof vest and the gun strapped to her was the moment César knew for sure that the night would be long, and she wanted more than talking.

Why didn’t you say anything?

[System: I hear through your ears and see through your eyes. You didn’t upgrade anything, which means I can only warn you if it comes through you first.]

"Are you good, miss?" The agent’s voice came as he looked at her, still pushing the gun to César’s head.

"I’m good." Sirna answered, though she looked everything but good. Her eyes were red, her face pale, and moreover, every breath came with a sharp pain through her chest as her ribs were cracked, but she tried to ignore it, of course, she tried, as now she had the upper hand. "Still smiling, huh?"

"Why wouldn’t I?" Well César... he was calm and relaxed, as if none of this mattered. His body showed no tension at all, like he was sitting somewhere safe and familiar.

And the smile on his face was not forced or fake. It was real and Sirina could finally understand as she had very peace.

The profiling was done, and the result was that... César is evil. Just straight-up evil. Not a single word related to psychology came to her mind. She felt the same about César as Calra... just an anomaly that she could not describe, a being whose soul existed like a void, a smile that was just terrifying... something usually seen in books and movies... but now it was right in front of her, in her hands.

"Let’s talk." Sirina continued as placed one hand on the table, using it to steady herself, while her eyes stayed locked on César’s. "There is nothing about you in the database. Nothing at all. You do not exist on paper, not in records, not anywhere. Who the fuck are you? And who do you work for, César, if that is even your real name?"

She had no idea that the questions she asked were the jackpot, because the question itself already carried the answer. Though there was no way she could understand it.

How could she understand that this was a game, or that she was part of it? How could she understand that she had once been an NPC who became conscious, or that the game world had turned into reality?

There was no way... and that was why there was no data about César. He was not an NPC. The game log had nothing to record, nothing to track.

Moreover, César is not his real name. It is the Group Four character name he had played the most with. Literally, it is just cosmetic, a skin on him.

"My real name is Joseph, a bit lamer, isn’t it?" César asked, but the smile was no longer on his face, and Sirna felt that sudden change, the switch, like he had changed person in that second, just like back at the interrogation room.

Of course she felt it, because saying out loud the name he once had, the name he had on Earth, the name that held many memories, much suffering, the name he had died with.

And it wasn’t just that, but the name connected him to his parents... and for César, that true primal terror and fear weren’t Sandria or killing. It was the look in his parents’ eyes, knowing he was going to die, but they pretended that everything was right.

That they made him comfortable after many surgeries after chemo, that he would live, that they lied to keep him safe and happy and in the end he died in their arms, but before, he heard the words "Sorry".

The pain was worse than a bullet, and the fear was greater than he had ever felt. The pain of not being able to say anything back, the pain of his voice failing to say goodbye, of not thanking them enough for their support... no, he couldn’t.

He died knowing that he had said nothing to them, hadn’t thanked them enough, hadn’t said goodbye to those who loved him the most.

That is what real pain and fear are.

It isn’t the fear of dying alone, or the fear of someone hurting you. It isn’t the fear of the dark or the unknown. It’s the quiet, heavy weight of all the words left unsaid, all the love left unspoken, all the moments that slipped away.

It’s seeing the faces of the people who raised you, who loved you, and knowing you will never speak to them again. Knowing you will never hug them, never hear their voice, never feel their hand in yours.

That is what fear really is. That is what pain really is. It is regret. "I should have said something, I should have said everything," but nothing, the moment slipped away, and the only thing he heard, the only thing he felt, were his parents apologizing and their tears hitting his face... that is pain and fear, not Sirna asking questions, not the gun pressed to his head... no, those are just a minor inconvenience.

Sirna felt it again, the way he went silent, the way he was not moving, not even stressing, just sitting and chilling, being relaxed... somehow she felt... worried, even though a gun was pointed at César’s head. She felt something otherworldly, this tension, but she needed to ask a question, moreover, an important one.

"Who are you working for? The DCA?"

"No. I never worked for anybody."

"Then who are you?" Sirna’s voice came again, but now with more calm, as César had just said he was not a DCA agent... but, well, he was worse than a DCA agent, and she was about to experience it.

"Me? A relaxed, handsome, nonchalant guy..." His smile faded away as he slowly leaned forward. "...and more importantly, a guy with a knife in his hand."