The One and Only Sami Chapter 51

Perhaps sensing something in Sami’s words, Razard crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side.

“So, that’s why you brought that with you?”

“Excuse me?”

“That thing.”

Razard gestured with his chin toward Sami’s side. Turning to look where he pointed, Sami saw a white chest sitting all alone atop the red silk quilt.

“What is this?”

“Quickmath surged like a wave between those pillars. When I drove my blade in, it stopped encroaching and swept back out.”

“Oh, the sand did collapse on me.”

“It probably flowed down to where I was. Anyway, when I dug through it, you popped out of the wave of sand, unconscious.”

Razard made a sharp swinging motion in the air as if holding an invisible sword.

“And you were clutching that box.”

Despite his calm tone, one corner of Razard’s eye twitched slightly as if in discomfort.

It was the same expression he’d worn when he saw Sami slumped over and breathless earlier.

This hadn’t gone according to Razard’s plan.

Normally, as it happened at the oasis, the Marut that had possessed Sami’s body should have approached Razard, and Razard would have subdued the Marut while restoring Sami’s consciousness.

Then, he would satisfy the desires harbored by the Marut using Sami’s body as a medium before refining it into a jewel. That was the order Razard knew, but somehow, they had stumbled at the very first step.

This particular Marut seemed to have a remarkably twisted personality.

He had brushed it off as nothing in front of Sami, but in truth, Razard was quite disappointed. Hearing what Sami had to say, it sounded like a rather cunning Marut; he couldn’t help but feel he might have gained something if they had met face-to-face.

Well, what’s missed is missed. He decided to shake off the lingering regret and focus on what it had left behind. Razard shrugged.

“I tried to check it out, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t get it open with my power. I think you’re the one who has to open it.”

That’s why I sat here patiently waiting for you to wake up, Razard added lightly as he picked up the chest and held it before Sami’s eyes.

“Want to try opening it?”

Sami sat up with a reluctant look on his face. The box he took felt strikingly gritty, as if sand had been lacquered onto it. The same patterns from the reliefs on the pillars were delicately carved onto all six sides of the box, giving it a subtle, understated feel rather than an ornate one.

Sami stroked the lid with his thumb. The wavy outline of the trim felt exactly like his heart did right now.

His face was a portrait of sheer anxiety. Sami fidgeted nervously with the corners of the chest before looking at Razard with a tearful expression.

“Do I really have to?”

“If you don’t, you’ll be the one in trouble. It’s scarier not knowing what kind of impulses might strike you later.”

“But, I mean… that Marut really hated me. What if… what if there’s some nasty magic inside?”

“…”

Razard stared at Sami in silence for a moment. A faint smile, uncharacteristic of him, played on his lips.

“W-Why? What is it?”

“Are you afraid of being hated?”

“Who actually likes being hated…?”

Honestly, being told point-blank by a complete stranger that they were jealous of you, envied you, hated your guts, and desperately wanted to torment you—it was a shock.

Sami had spent his whole life avoiding doing things that would make others dislike him. He lived kindly, just like the fables taught, and remained gentle, earning the praise of his elders. He and his fellow servant Hibi used to joke that he’d never even qualify for the role of the mistreated servant in a fairy tale.

Isn’t that just normal? He couldn’t bring himself to ask that, knowing it would be meaningless since the man in front of him was Razard.

A man who was revered by the people while simultaneously dealing with Mages who were constantly gunning for his life. Sami had personally heard the blood-curdling curses those Mages spat at Razard.

“I guess it’s not scary for you, sir…”

Sami’s spirit completely deflated. Seeing this, Razard burst into laughter again.

“I didn’t mean it like that. Well, I’ve already checked to make sure there’s no aura of a curse clinging to that box.”

“If it’s a curse even you don’t recognize, sir…”

“There’s that face again. Why do you worry so much?”

I’m telling you, this is normal… But Sami knew that trying to explain “normal” to a man who was the living embodiment of the word “extraordinary”—especially when that man had no intention of understanding it—would just be a waste of breath.

Sami had grown somewhat used to Razard, flying through the sky on carpets and rummaging through oases and desert caves, but he was still a complete layman when it came to magic.

It was only natural to worry when faced with a mystery he couldn’t comprehend.

“You’re firm when you should be scared, and timid when you should be bold. Hmm?”

It seemed that look was a novelty to Razard.

To hunt Mages, one had to know magic intimately, so Razard had dealt with all sorts of bizarre mysteries since he was old enough to understand them. To a Master who was well-versed in eerie threats and gloomy sorcery, a frightened Sami was simply funny and entertaining.

Because of that, Sami’s insides were churning. To him, it didn’t feel like he was holding a box; it felt like he was hugging a lit firecracker.

“Don’t you know the stories about boxes where you don’t know the contents? There’s a Djinn inside that eats your eyes out.”

“Right, right. The stories meant to teach children not to steal other people’s property.”

Razard snorted.

“Well, if you hate touching it that much, I suppose there’s no choice.”

Moving from where he sat, he slid behind Sami’s back. Hugging him from behind with practiced ease, he placed his hands over Sami’s, which were gripping the chest.

“Then we’ll open it together. You can close your eyes if you’re scared. Once you open it, I’ll check the contents. How’s that?”

“…”

Sami’s hands, enveloped by Razard’s, twitched.

As if prompting an answer, Razard tapped the hands he was holding. The small hands had surprisingly firm fingertips and somewhat prominent knuckles for their size.

It seemed that no matter how much smooth oil was applied, it was impossible to erase years of servant’s callouses in a single month. Razard decided he didn’t mind them not being soft.

Pressing down on those round, firm fingertips with his own, Razard lightly tapped the crown of Sami’s head with his chin.

“Come on. Open it for me.”

“Am I really closing my eyes?”

“Mhm. I told you, I’ll be the one looking.”

At Razard’s urging, Sami finally squeezed his hands tight. He took one last deep breath, and as he exhaled, he flung the lid of the chest open.

It opened with a click. The box that Razard said wouldn’t open no matter what he did slid open easily in Sami’s hands.

The one who actually opened it still had his eyes shut tight. A vivid scent of acacia wafted out, but other than that, he didn’t feel anything particularly different.

It was a Marut full of malice, and that was the scent that Marut had given off. He expected something harmful, but he didn’t feel a pungent energy choking his throat or a feverish sensation in his body. There wasn’t even the chilly shiver he felt when entering a marketplace under a spell.

Just as he was about to twitch his eyelids to see if he should open them…

“Ha…”

He heard Razard let out a gasp of admiration from above his head. He squeezed his eyes shut again instantly.

“What is it? Why? What… what’s in there? What is it? Sir?”

The frightened Sami asked several times in a row, but Razard didn’t answer. It wasn’t that he was ignoring Sami’s pestering; he seemed genuinely captivated. Razard released Sami’s hands. He began checking the contents, and a clear, clattering sound of things bumping together echoed from inside the box.

What on earth is in there? Eventually, curiosity won out over fear once again. Sami peered into the box with his eyes barely squinted open.

“…?”

His eyelids, which had been trembling as he tried to keep them squinted, flew wide open.

And for good reason—inside the box…

“What are these?”

…lay objects the likes of which he had never seen before.

A slender, elongated bottle about the thickness of Sami’s finger; a pair of small rings with beads hanging from them; a strange, lumpy, cone-shaped club the size of a child’s forearm… Some looked excessively ordinary, while others had no discernable use at all.

If they had one thing in common, it was that their purpose was impossible to guess.

Even Sami, who was completely in the dark about mystery and magic, didn’t feel any sinister energy from these items. However, the smell was quite peculiar. The clear scent of acacia flowers from moments ago was gone, and as the box opened, a salty, fishy aroma pricked his nose.

Above Sami’s head, as he leaned in to peer around the inside and outside of the box, a airy chuckle escaped.

“How crude.”

Razard, who seemed to have figured out the purpose of the items in that short time, let out a hollow laugh and picked up the slender bottle first. Sami’s gaze naturally followed the bottle.