My Parasite Skill System

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'What the hell was going down here?' … was the question.

And by now, it was answered, already.

Though only partially, I still could call it answered. Still had much to make a sense of and figure out–but it was fine, mostly.

At any rate, I understood most of all things I needed to be aware of … I think.

And as such, the prior lingering panicked and annoyed feelings I was feeling were changed and replaced by annoyance only.

Annoyance, and only annoyance.

I was annoyed. And not just by any feeling of annoyance, no. I felt strongly annoyed. I didn't ask to be captured; no, I didn't.

Nor did I ask to be brought to that stinky place. I didn't recall I did, actually. Or maybe I was partly doing that at the same time I was being too reckless on the battlefield.

But anyway! I was offered a way out, already.

Even though I was strongly annoyed by this (or simply myself, actually) I restrained the urge I felt to let out one hell of a sigh.

I didn't quite sigh. Not yet.

No, I didn't.

Why would I anyway? It's all cool.

Basically, I just had to help them out with whatever was needing helping.

The orcs want me to do something for them. I think. Probably.

And this little 'helping,' I'm sure, only required me to take care of the other human captives to my left.

Hmm … but let's not think up too many things at a time.

Tight, tight, tight. I'm relaxed.

They were needing helping with regards to some matter.

That's what he just said to me, that big orc to my side.

He was standing right beside me as I still was tied up on that dumb chair I was on.

That orc was my ticket to this place. And as such, he had to take care of me, I guess.

His big lips moved and moved. Over and over again.

Thanks to the cold water I'd just been thrown at, for better or worse, I was up and came to.

It hadn't even been more than ten seconds since water came freezing me. And therefore, it hardly lasted more than ten seconds before he began his talk.

With his broken and half-assedly spoken English, he'd finally engaged in conversation with me.

Though confused for most of the time he'd been going over his long, tedious line of his after he'd finished, I could understand.

"Oh, oh, oh!" he said, "Help us taking down humans, O Noble Spirit," he must've wanted to say.

As for the reason they were needing helping for, I didn't know about it. I mean, maybe it was just plainly about killing humans for them. They were waging war at one another, after all.

If it was just this … I can do that just fine.

But was that just it? I didn't know. Once again, though, I strongly believed and was confident in the fact I'd not struggle much figuring this out.

The chief of this orc's tribe had been introduced to me, after some point.

Or rather, was just being pointed at.

The orc that had brought me here, still with his face very close to mine, had languidly and calmly stretched an arm that pointed at the orcs behind him.

In the same way, slowly getting my eyes off of his, my face turned left, and I looked in before me.

In front of me, to see, there was extending the same rough and stinky setting as before.

He vaguely pointed at the other side of what couldn't really be called a room–this place.

There, lying, were many, many eyes. Many, many eyes; hence many, many orcs.

About thirty of them or so.

Where they stood, onto the other side of that space, they almost all looked at me.

Thirty orcs, as they were all naturally super big, were a lot. And as such, the place was quite stifling to me.

But it wasn't that the place was too tight or anything, no.

Actually, it was even kind of grand and spacious. Broad, spacious, roomy. In terms of space only, dwelling in here, (I'm sure they weren't dwelling in here, though), they could be called rich.

And all that room wasn't due to the open ceiling on top of our heads, no.

Even without that, it felt big and grand.

They all could perfectly fit in there. And to their already numerous lot, you could even add more of their kin.

This way, you'd put them all together, and there still would be room left.

All mixed up and easily confused with one another.

Incidentally, they nearly all looked the same.

They were just adorned by the usual looks you'd find any orc with.

With these regards only, the place wasn't all that stifling at all.

I just felt that way because of the strong presence and aura they were emitting and giving off.

What felt stifling was something other than the way they looked … let's say materially.

When they indeed seemed to be pretty normal orcs in appearance only, they weren't certainly the same.

In a few words: their presence was felt, and rightly so–and what was more, they weren't that disorganized at all.

Quite the contrary.

Discipline seemed to be the one and only rule here.

And that's precisely what you wouldn't be expecting out of the shabby group.

This was about their group as a whole.

And their group? It wasn't so interesting to me. If I was being this analytical and overcautious … it was just out of wariness.

I needed it. As simple as that.

Getting onto the real business: a few orcs stood out of their group--just like that one, still holding the stinky bucket of water that indeed did contain a bit of water still--but above all them stood their king.

He'd called him a chief. And his arm wasn't just pointed at their group as a whole. He especially wanted me to see, meet, and be introduced to the chief of their wild tribe.

Was this the chief, though?

Maybe I should ask for his name.

No, no, no.

Surely, he must be their chief.

I mean, leaders can't just be from among the crowd, can they?

That orc didn't feel like he was from among the crowd either.

His facial features … I don't know how that'd be possible–but they look somehow human.

It was curious. I started to observe carefully.

His reddish darkened skin; it was the same as the others. Same went for his knitted and tense brows, as they were directed at me. And his rather short eyelashes, too, slowly and warily flapping down, observing me too.

But, somehow, his jaw wasn't as squared and big as the others'. His shoulders were just about the same, too. His stature–he wasn't too big either.

Well, this was curious.

He seemed distinguished. He seemed different. He seemed to be the chief.

Firmly seated one ugly throne, seemingly decorated by all sorts of little pieces of bones or something, his fingers tapping onto one of the thing's chair arm; he was giving me a somewhat mistrustful yet eager and keen look.

His outfit was similar to his friends though more beautified and adorned. And even sitting the way he was on that ugly throne–which was eerily quite similar to the chair I was tied up on–with his ugly rags and bits of armor; he still was possessed by a certain sense of grace and nobility.

Our eyes met for the first time–he felt strong.

His only one assessing eye was set on fire and yet, the orc was cold all over.

So this is the chief.

And my overly analytical state of mind didn't stop at that–

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