James' POV
The last clear image burned into my mind was my father opening the cabin door—only for a colossal wave to crash into the yacht.
The world tilted violently. Water roared in, cold and merciless, swallowing the narrow hallway in seconds. I tried to scream, but seawater forced its way into my mouth and lungs, stealing my breath.
I remember my mother shouting my name.
I remember my siblings clinging to the railings as the yacht split apart with a deafening crack.
The sea showed no mercy. It tore metal like paper and flung human lives around as if we were nothing more than debris.
My consciousness began to waver.
As darkness crept in, something impossible caught my attention—the sea itself was glowing. Pale light shimmered beneath the waves, twisting and pulsing like living veins. I couldn't tell whether it was real or a hallucination born from desperation.
Then a massive force slammed into me.
My body was hurled forward, dragged by something powerful. Sand tore at my skin as I was thrown onto solid ground. I wanted to open my eyes. I wanted to move.
But my body was unbearably heavy, as though bound by invisible chains.
Through the haze, voices reached me.
"Is he still alive?"
"He's barely breathing."
"Is it worth saving him?"
I wanted to answer.
I wanted to beg them not to leave me.
But the darkness swallowed me whole.
Pain was the first thing I felt when I regained consciousness.
It was deep, dull, and suffocating—wrapping around my body and pressing down on my chest. When I tried to sit up, agony exploded through me, forcing me back onto the bed.
"Esss…"
A groan escaped my lips.
The sound startled an elderly woman seated beside a small wooden table. She had been dozing lightly, but now she stirred awake. Her eyes widened in surprise before softening with relief.
"Oh, boy," she said warmly. "You're finally awake."
Her voice was unfamiliar, her accent unlike anything I had ever heard—yet somehow, I understood every word perfectly.
That realization unsettled me more than the pain.
"Take it easy and lie still," she continued, pulling her chair closer to the bed. "Your injuries haven't fully healed—especially your legs."
I swallowed, my throat painfully dry.
"Thank you for your concern, Elder," I said weakly. "But my legs… they were already useless long before. You don't need to worry about them."
She paused, her sharp eyes studying my face as if trying to read my soul.
"May I ask where I am?" I continued. "And… was anyone else with me when you found me?"
Suddenly, she laughed.
"So many questions already! And you even doubt my healing skills," she teased. "Should I accept your gratitude—or throw you back outside?"
Her expression shifted effortlessly between stern and playful. Seeing her laugh at my stunned reaction made me feel oddly embarrassed.
"I—I'm sorry, Elder," I said quickly. "My thoughts are still a mess. Before anything else, thank you for saving me."
I tried to bow, but pain stabbed through my body, cutting the motion short.
"Hahaha! Easy, boy," she chuckled. "I'll accept your thanks—but I won't take full credit."
She stood and stepped closer.
"You should thank Captain Jane. She was the one who found you on the shore, carried you back, and gave you first aid. Without her, I wouldn't have been able to save you."
She placed a wooden bowl in my hands. The liquid inside was dark, its bitter scent rising sharply.
"Drink this," she said gently. "Then rest. We'll talk more once you're healthier."
With her help, I sat up just enough to drink.
The medicine burned as it went down, but a strange warmth spread through my body almost immediately. My aching bones tingled, and a dull pressure formed around my injuries—as if something inside me was slowly stitching me back together.
Before I could ask another question, exhaustion pulled me under once more.
I drifted in and out of sleep.
Sometimes I dreamed of the sea.
Sometimes of my family's faces, distorted and fading.
Other times, I felt something warm flowing through my body, seeping into shattered bones and torn muscles.
When I was awake, I forced my mind to organize the chaos of my thoughts.
First—my situation.
I had no idea where I was.
From what little I had seen, this place was far removed from modern civilization. The house was built of wood, straw, and stone. The tools were crude but well maintained. Clothing was made from animal hides and rough fabric.
There were no machines.
No electricity.
No signs of advanced technology.
It felt like I had fallen into a world pulled straight from ancient history.
And yet… the medicine.
When I drank it, my body reacted—warmth spreading through my veins, pain giving way to strange sensations of renewal. Even the most advanced hospitals back on Earth couldn't replicate something like this.
Poison never crossed my mind. If they wanted me dead, they wouldn't have saved me.
Then there was the language.
We clearly spoke different tongues—yet we understood each other perfectly.
That realization frightened me more than any monster I had yet to see.
More than a month passed.
Day by day, my strength returned little by little. Though I still couldn't move freely, my body no longer felt as though it were on the brink of collapse.
Several people visited me during that time. From the elderly healer, I learned her name—Elder Martha. She was responsible for tending to the sick and injured of the tribe.
The others were members of a hunting unit—Hunter Squad Team One. They were warriors who protected the tribe and ventured beyond its borders.
Their captain was Jane.
She was the one who had found me unconscious on the shore.
She was the one who carried me back through dangerous territory.
And she was the one who paid the cost of my treatment.
I never forgot that.
Whenever she visited, she stood near the doorway with her arms crossed, watching me in silence. She rarely spoke gently, but her actions spoke louder than words.
I swore to myself that one day, I would repay that debt—no matter how long it took.
As my health improved, I gathered fragments of information about this place. Each piece shattered my old understanding and buried my hopes a little deeper.
I didn't even know if this land was still part of Earth—or an entirely different world.
The realization crushed me.
If I couldn't even confirm where I was, how could I ever find my family?
For a time, I lost all motivation to live.
Thankfully, Jane didn't allow me to sink completely.
One day, she spoke words that cut deeper than any blade.
"Even if there's only a one-percent chance they're alive," she said firmly, "you must search for them—if you truly love them."
I stared at her, speechless.
"If they're dead," she continued, her voice unwavering, "then find their bodies and give them a proper burial. Don't let monsters defile them."
Her eyes sharpened.
"And if there's even a one-percent chance they're alive—do you think they wouldn't try to find you too? This world is vast. There are billions of people out there. How do you expect them to find you if you hide here?"
She took a step closer.
"If necessary, make a name for yourself—one so great that even the farthest corners of the world will hear it. That will increase your chances of being found."
Her voice lowered.
"And if they're not in this world… then grow stronger. Break the limits of this world. Chase them even into the afterlife if you must."
She straightened, her expression calm and merciless.
"But if your love is only superficial," she concluded, "then stay here. Hide in this corner. I can guarantee you food for the rest of your life."
Her words ignited something deep inside me—something I thought I had already lost.
Hope.
And with it, resolve.