From Human to Skeleton: Revived with Infinite System Crystals-Chapter 557 Choked up

"Oh no," the innkeeper whispered behind JJ, her voice filled with genuine concern. "The poor man."

JJ's gaze flicked toward the flyer. The man's face was pale, his hands trembling as he handed it over. The innkeeper's eyes widened in recognition, her hands wringing her apron, nervous energy pouring off her in waves. JJ caught sight of the flyer's headline: Lt. Daemon. The image was clear, stamped with a single word—DEAD.

The moment stretched, thick with unspoken tension. JJ's heart lurched in her chest, a thousand thoughts racing through her mind. She turned away from the counter, her fingers tightening around the door handle. Daemon's dead. The realization hit like cold water, cutting through the haze of everything she'd already been grappling with.

Her eyes narrowed, the quiet inside the inn now a suffocating weight. The Black Bulls hadn't mentioned this. They'd said nothing about Daemon being a target, or that he was even a consideration in their schemes. Who else knew? Her stomach twisted.

Daemon had been there, supporting her, Ty, and Yun-Jin—someone she could trust in a world that had stripped almost everything from her. Now he's gone. The thought clawed at her insides, leaving a hollowness she couldn't shake. Her breath hitched, but she forced it down. There was no time to break. Not now.

The pain throbbed behind her ribs, threatening to overwhelm her, but she had to keep moving.

JJ swallowed hard, pushing through the inn's door and stepping into the crisp morning air. The town around her was starting to wake up, completely unaware of the personal storm raging inside her. Her gaze drifted to the bustling streets—the merchants setting up their stalls, children laughing as they ran down the cobbled pathways. Life continued, indifferent to her loss.

She quickened her steps toward the waiting caravan, her mind spinning with the news. Daemon's gone. Just like my family. The ache in her chest deepened. She pressed her hand against the bandaged wound on her shoulder, grounding herself in the dull sting, a distraction from the deeper wound Daemon's death left behind.

Her feet moved on instinct, guiding her to the caravan waiting at the town's edge. The horses stood restless, their breath misting in the cool morning air, unaware of the storm raging inside her. The driver, a grizzled man with a weathered face, caught sight of her approach and tipped his hat.

"Ready to head out?" he asked, his voice rough but steady.

JJ nodded, though words failed her. Her throat felt tight, constricted by the weight of everything she couldn't yet process. She climbed into the back of the wagon, pulling her cloak tighter around her. As the driver snapped the reins and the caravan lurched forward, JJ pressed herself into the corner, letting the steady rhythm of the wheels on the dirt road become her anchor.

Daemon's dead. The thought replayed in her mind, unyielding. He had been a constant in her life, someone she had trusted—someone she had leaned on when everything else was falling apart. And now, just like her family, he was gone. The Black Bulls hadn't told her. They'd said nothing.

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But deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were responsible. They had to be.

The spider in her pocket pressed against her side, a heavy reminder of the chains she now wore. They're watching me. And I'm going to make them pay for this.

The caravan moved through the outskirts of town, leaving behind the bustling market and the growing noise of the morning. Fields stretched out before them, open and unremarkable, but the path ahead led to something far more dangerous. The Arena waiting grounds. A place of wealth and power, where sponsors and nobles gathered to watch the carnage unfold in comfort.

It was a world she had never belonged to, but one she now had no choice but to navigate.

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Each jolt of the wagon sent a fresh wave of pain through her shoulder. The bandage was tight, but the wound still throbbed beneath it—a constant reminder of just how fragile her situation was. She couldn't afford to slip, not now. Not with Ty still in the Arena, fighting for his life.

Her legs felt heavier as she left the caravan behind, and the opulence of the Arena grounds pressed in on her. She needed a moment away from all of it—from the luxury, the nobles, and the noise. The weight of Daemon's death still clung to her, pulling her under. She slipped into a narrow alleyway between two pavilions, the towering tents providing some much-needed shade from the midday sun.

Her breath came in shallow gasps as she leaned against the cool stone of the building. She was trying to steady herself, to push the grief back down where it wouldn't show. Daemon's gone… The thought replayed in her mind, like a wound that wouldn't close. Just like the others.

A small stall at the end of the alley caught her eye. An older woman was selling fresh fruit, her display simple but welcoming. JJ took a step toward it, needing something—anything—to ground herself.

She reached for a coin in her pocket when she felt it—an arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her roughly against a hard chest. A sickening voice hissed in her ear, "You look like a pretty noble. How about you transfer me all of your money and I won't make you a fuck stick?"

The words hit her like ice, snapping her out of the fog. JJ tensed as she felt the man's hand grab her chest, his breath hot against her ear. The world narrowed, his words, his touch, bringing back memories she had worked hard to forget. But this time, she wasn't the same person she had been before. This time, there was a darkness in her that she hadn't known how to use—until now.

Her mind flashed back to the dream—Ty's skeleton standing amidst the flames, the black liquid creature looming, its tendrils wrapping around everything. She had felt powerless then. Not now.