The Witcher: The Journey to Transcendence from Marvel...

Chapter 532 Selection

"Yes, that's definitely an excellent choice."

Mephisto silently lurked in the shadows, his sharp, hawk-like gaze fixed intently on David.

In this refugee community shrouded in despair and suffering, the negative emotions emanating from David were more intense than imagined, like a surging, ceaseless black tide, almost tangible.

He not only lost all his beloved family members in the brutal war, was forced to leave his home, and wandered aimlessly under the shadow of war, but also suffered inhumane treatment in this so-called refugee camp, living a life as difficult as an ant.

The hatred and despair hidden deep within David's heart were the purest and most intense hatred necessary to summon the Black Death Sword.

But he did not act rashly, nor did he try to interfere in a presumptuous manner.

Summoning a powerful artifact like the Black Death Sword requires that the process be completely free of any human intervention.

Any act of forceful intervention could very likely destroy that pure and intense hatred, causing the entire summoning operation to fail completely.

Therefore, he chose to lie low quietly to the side, patiently waiting for the right moment to allow the hatred in David's heart to ferment and swell naturally until it reached a level of intensity that would trigger the Black Death Sword.

Moreover, Mephisto didn't actually need to intervene at all.

Just as the saying goes, "Hell is empty, and all the devils are here on earth," the refugees' miserable days have only just begun, and the real hardships are yet to come.

Every day, David and the other refugees had to endure incredibly heavy physical labor, like slaves being ruthlessly enslaved.

They struggled to move their weary bodies through the ruins left by the war, clearing away the remnants of the conflict.

Prolonged periods of high-intensity labor gradually depleted their bodies, leaving them exhausted.

For them, lack of food and clothing has become the norm.

Their tattered clothes offered no protection against the biting cold of the night, and the meager food they ate was far from enough to satisfy their hunger.

Not long after, a terrible wave of injuries and illnesses broke out in the refugee camp.

A fierce flu swept through the entire refugee camp.

As the disease raged, more than half of the refugees succumbed to it, suffering terribly from the pain.

David was not spared from the disaster either. He curled up on the cold, hard ground, his body burning hot, and his consciousness becoming blurred.

In his half-awake state, he murmured the names of his family members, his voice weak yet filled with endless longing.

However, what is even more disheartening is that there are medicines available to treat them.

In fact, those life-saving medicines were tightly held in the hands of a group of incredibly greedy merchants.

These profit-driven capitalists, in order to reap huge profits, do not hesitate to harm their own compatriots without the slightest compassion.

They arbitrarily raised drug prices, leaving refugees who desperately needed medicine to save their lives unable to afford it.

David struggled desperately, tormented by illness and shrouded in despair.

The fire of hatred in his heart burned ever brighter, like a raging inferno that could not be extinguished.

He hated this cruel and merciless war, hated those who started it and plunged countless people into the abyss of suffering, and hated this cold, indifferent, and unjust world even more.

Mephisto remained hidden in the shadows, silently observing everything David was going through.

"Get out of my way! You poor wretch, don't get in my way. You want to buy medicine? Dream on!"

The burly businessman, his eyes filled with contempt and impatience, glared at David with disgust as if he were looking at a pile of garbage. Then, he reached out viciously and shoved David away.

David, already weakened, was suddenly pushed with such force that he lost his balance and fell heavily to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

A cloud of dust rose from the ground, heading straight into his mouth and nose, causing him to cough violently.

His knees and palms made intimate contact with the rough ground, instantly scraping their skin and drawing bright red blood, which looked particularly glaring against the dust.

"Why are you treating me like this? We're all compatriots!"

David looked up, his eyes filled with pain and confusion, yet a faint glimmer of hope remained for the merchant, a hope that he would remember his compatriots.

His voice trembled, filled with endless grievances and pleading, echoing in the empty space.

"So what? Aren't we all compatriots here? Am I supposed to provide free medicine to everyone? I'm not a philanthropist!"

The businessman stood with his arms crossed, a disdainful sneer on his face, his tone icy and extremely arrogant.

These refugees are nothing but lambs to the slaughter, tools he uses to make huge profits, and they don't deserve his sympathy or pity whatsoever.

"It's just a common cold medicine, why is it selling for 50 riyals? That's highway robbery!"

David's voice was filled with anger and resentment.

The cold medicine that was readily available at every pharmacy a few months ago.

But now, post-war Israel is extremely short of supplies, has to rely on imports for almost everything, and its currency has been severely devalued.

Coupled with the monopoly of these greedy capitalists, the price of medicines has skyrocketed, changing every day, and is now astronomically high, making it unaffordable for these refugees.

"This shouldn't be happening... This isn't fair..."

David muttered to himself, curled up on the ground, his eyes staring blankly at the sky.

The faith that once gave him strength and hope was now like a candle flame in the wind, flickering precariously, seemingly about to be extinguished at any moment.

His heart was filled with despair for the world.

"Is it really because of a shortage of medicine?"

David pondered to himself, knowing full well that this was nothing more than an excuse these capitalists used to cover up their greed.

They deliberately hoard goods and drive up prices in order to squeeze every last bit of value out of these refugees and satisfy their insatiable greed.

Just then, several refugees saw David being bullied and gathered around.

Some of them indignantly accused the merchants of being heartless and ruthless; their voices were filled with anger and dissatisfaction.

Some shook their heads and sighed helplessly, their faces filled with helplessness and sorrow for reality.

Seeing this, the merchant showed no remorse whatsoever; instead, he became even more arrogant, hurling insults at the refugees. His vile words were like sharp blades, piercing the hearts of everyone present.

(End of this chapter)