Wonderful Insane World-Chapter 105: How Much that’s Worth

Dylan had spent the rest of the day resting.

His back was propped against a flat rock, his body covered in wounds, barely able to move. The injury to his shoulder had completely paralyzed his right arm — a handicap in itself, in a world this dangerous.

Everything else was being taken care of by the two women.

They hadn’t spoken a word since their return. Whatever had happened earlier still hung in the air like a fog, thick and heavy. Élisa held on to her resentment — she’d been struck, and even if she understood why, she wasn’t ready to forgive. Maggie wasn’t the apologizing type anyway. Especially not when she thought she’d done the right thing.

So silence settled over them. Not a peaceful one.

A heavy silence.

A weight in the heart of the camp.

Broken only now and then by the crackle of fire-chewed wood.

And by the smell.

The meat was grilling slowly, hanging on crude spikes. The scent wasn’t bad — in fact, it was rich, wild, almost sweet — but so strong... it became suffocating.

As if every breath carried the memory of the fight.

Strong smell or not, though, nothing was going to stop the trio from devouring that meat.

They hadn’t eaten since morning. And even calling it "morning" was generous — it had been a fistful of half-chewed roots before the hunt.

So yeah. They were starving.

Their stomachs groaned in unison, like a pitiful chorus begging to be filled. Deep, growling sounds that seemed to echo up through their ribs. Even Dylan, despite the pain, felt his empty belly howling.

But as usual, Maggie looked the hungriest of them all. Which, honestly, wasn’t surprising. She always ate like it was the last time. As if the war had never ended.

And yet...

Tonight, she was waiting. She hadn’t touched the meat yet. Just stared at it, jaw clenched, silent.

And if you watched her long enough — really looked —

You could see she wasn’t doing so well.

Her legs were shaking just slightly as she kept herself upright.

Meanwhile, Dylan was practicing circulating essence through his body.

He sent waves of spiritual energy into specific areas, trying to feel how his body responded. It wasn’t pleasant. Actually, it was borderline unbearable — like a million ants crawling under his skin. Every time he sent a new pulse, a new wave, he clenched his jaw. Grimaced. That prickling sensation kept coming back, obsessive and relentless.

But it wasn’t useless.

Far from it.

He could feel something happening. His body... responded. Slowly. In its own way. The essence wasn’t just flowing — it was interacting. Heating. And the more he pushed, the more he forced the rhythm, he noticed something.

When he sped it up, added more tension, more intention...

His wound changed.

Not by much. Not enough to call it healing. But the pain pulled back a little. The tissue seemed to tighten. A soft warmth rose beneath the skin, still tingling, but now with a strange kind of stability.

Regeneration. Slow, hesitant, but starting.

It was faint, but it was real.

And for Dylan, that was enough to keep going.

When mealtime finally came, Élisa sat down beside him.

She settled in without a word, a little back but close enough for their warmth to overlap. She handed him a piece of meat wrapped in a tattered, still-warm cloth. Her smile was faint, tired — but there. A simple gesture. A silent truce.

Dylan hesitated for a moment before reaching out.

"Oh come on..." Élisa sighed, mock-annoyed, her tone teasing. "Don’t tell me you want me to feed you too?"

Dylan replied with a crooked smile. One of those that tugged at the corners of his mouth but never reached his eyes. He looked at her, his gray irises taking on that calm, steady hue he wore when he was... himself again.

"Wouldn’t have minded it."

She snorted softly.

But instead of grabbing the food, Dylan slid his hand into his jacket.

And pulled out the gem.

He set it on his lap with a kind of slow, ritual precision, and just stared at it. The fire nearby made its crimson surface shimmer. The thing seemed alive. Gently pulsing. As if it was breathing with him.

Élisa followed his gaze, then tried to lighten the mood.

"How much you think that’s worth?"

Dylan raised a brow, eyes still locked on the gem.

"No idea. I’m not exactly up to date on this world’s economy. But judging by the power it gives off... I’d say it’s worth a pretty sum."

Silence.

Then Élisa gave a small, thin grin. Something a little sharp. Almost sinister in the firelight.

"Thirty years ago, a gem like that would’ve been worth between two and three hundred gold coins."

Dylan glanced up at her, intrigued.

She continued, eyes lost in the flame:

"With that, you could buy a mansion. A real one. Not a ruin. A proper estate. Land, servants, the whole deal."

She paused for a moment, then added more quietly:

"Now, it’s worth way more. And not just in gold."

Dylan’s eyes widened slightly.

He’d known the gem had value — the raw power it radiated didn’t lie — but this was something else. A mansion. Servants. A comfortable life. Out of the woods. Out of this constant chase.

For a moment, just a moment, he hesitated.

What if... he didn’t absorb it?

What if, instead, they sold it? Even at half its value, it could buy them breathing room. Shelter. Time. Protection. Or just... a break.

But Élisa, without even looking at him, cut the thought short.

"You think it’s that easy to sell something like that?"

Dylan slowly turned his eyes to her.

She stared at the fire. Her voice calm, level, like she’d had this conversation a hundred times before — with herself or with others.

"There are rules. Status. Clans. What do you think the merchants or guilds will believe when some no-name stranger shows up with a third-tier awakened gem?" ƒrēenovelkiss.com

Dylan frowned slightly. He didn’t have to think long.

"...They’ll assume I stole it."

Élisa gave a slow nod, like a teacher acknowledging a student’s good answer.

"Exactly, pretty boy."

She turned her face slightly toward him, an amused smile tugging at her lips.

"So do me a favor: every gem you manage to recover in this forest, you absorb it. It’s safer that way. And it’ll keep you from swinging at the end of a rope the moment we hit a civilized town."

Dylan looked down at the gem still resting on his knees.

Its red glow pulsed in his gray eyes.

He didn’t reply.

But he understood.

And something inside his chest, quietly, got a little heavier.