Carlos followed Jairo toward the Big House, his feet sinking into the soft earth of the path. The building stood imposingly against the blue sky. To his eyes, the house was rustic but undeniably luxurious, like a mansion straight out of a period novel. The dark wood of the structure contrasted with the white, well-kept windows. A faint scent of damp earth and orange blossoms hung in the air.

  As he crossed the heavy wooden door, Carlos was enveloped by a cool dimness and the aged aroma of cedar and beeswax. His vision adjusted quickly, revealing a spacious room where several images of saints, their severe eyes painted on wood, watched the corners from dark, gleaming furniture. Passing the kitchen, the strong smell of garlic, onion, and some kind of broth thickening over the fire filled his nostrils. There, an elderly woman with her back turned was stirring a large iron pot; he guessed it was Auntie Vera, but he couldn't confirm.

  The two climbed an ornate staircase, painted entirely white, their steps echoing softly on the solid wood. Reaching the second floor, a long, dark corridor stretched ahead. Through a slightly ajar door, Carlos glimpsed a room. Inside, a pale-skinned woman was sitting on the edge of a large bed, covered by a duvet so fluffy and white it looked like a cloud. Her slender fingers slowly stroked the soft fabric. Her gaze, for a moment, held a tender glow as she watched a child playing on the floor with wooden blocks. The resemblance between them was striking.

  Jairo, the overseer, couldn't help but greet her.

  "Good morning, my lady."

  Hearing his voice, the woman's eyes instantly lost their shine, becoming dull and empty. She turned to the overseer and offered a small, forced smile, so tense it barely moved her lips, before lowering her eyes to the child again, as if it were her only refuge.

  The overseer, sensing the cold reception, continued walking. Carlos followed him to a heavy door of dark wood. Jairo knocked with his knuckles, announcing:

  "Master Jorge, I've brought the slave you asked for. His name is Carlos."

  Carlos's heart hammered against his chest, so loud he feared everyone could hear it. What story do I make up? I bet he won't believe me no matter what I say. Looks like I'm getting tortured again...

  An authoritative voice answered from within.

  "Let the slave enter."

  The door was opened by Pedro, the same man who had applied the miracle ointment to his back the day before. Carlos wanted to offer a smile of recognition but held back, immediately directing his gaze to the man behind the desk.

  As he entered alone, a sudden, cold air enveloped his body, as if he had stepped into a walk-in freezer—an impossible sensation for the era. The office was cavernous. In the center, seated behind a huge dark wood desk, was Master Jorge. He was reading a book titled "High School Physics – Vol. 1," but he closed it with a dry thud and placed it on the desk to stare at the slave before him.

  On the desk, besides the book, were Carlos's belongings, along with glass vials containing liquids of vibrant colors: blood-red, sky-blue, gold-yellow, forest-green, and earth-brown. Behind the desk, a bookshelf crammed with volumes rose to the ceiling. On the side walls, shelves displayed a bizarre collection: a crushed beer can, a pair of headphones with a coiled cord, an opened and empty can of corn, a plastic toy car, a lighter, a superhero action figure, and a roll of toilet paper. Despite their disparity, all the objects shared a strange familiarity for Carlos. They were artifacts from his world, standing out like modern mirages in that saint-heavy environment.

  Why are there so many things from my time here? It seems various items from my world end up in this place. Maybe even someone else besides me...

  Next to Master Jorge, Pedro stood, fanning him with a straw fan. The object seemed ordinary, except for a bluish, translucent gem embedded in its base. With every movement, the icy wind Carlos had felt emanated from the fan.

  "Good morning, master," Carlos said, keeping his voice as steady as possible.

  The plantation owner looked him up and down, his eyes calculating.

  "Jairo said your name is Carlos, correct?"

  "Yes, master."

  "Since you're new here, you'll have to take the magical aptitude test. The items for it cost me a small fortune, by the way."

  The man's words went in one ear and out the other. Carlos's attention was captured by a specific object on the shelf: a semi-automatic pistol.

  I don't believe it! There's a pistol here! If I can get that gun, my freedom will be guaranteed! But I need to stay focused... It might be out of bullets or jammed. First, I need to get out of this room without a beating.

  Master Jorge noticed his distraction.

  "I forget how stupid blacks can be. Let me explain it in a way even someone like you can understand. Basically, we're going to see if you can use any magic gems. If you can, you'll live better than the other slaves, work less, and eat better. I reward those who benefit me. But even then, there are ungrateful people, like that bitch Tassi, whom I'm punishing. If you behave, you can live well, like Pedro here."

  Carlos's blood boiled. Very tempting, you old bastard. But I prefer my freedom!

  "I understand," he replied, containing his anger. I even thought about saying "I'm grateful for the master's benevolence," but I won't suck up to a worm like him. Being a "premium slave" doesn't interest me.

  "Back to the main point," Jorge continued. "The test is simple. Just place your hand in these vials. Inside them is powdered magic gem mixed with water. If any of them glow, it means you have an aptitude for the respective gem. Understood? You may begin."

  Carlos felt a flicker of hope. Who knows? He placed his hand in each of the vials, one by one. The red liquid was oily, the blue watery, the yellow thick. But to his disappointment, none of them reacted to his presence. Too bad. I guess I won't be the overpowered protagonist who can use all the magics...

  Master Jorge sighed, clearly disappointed, and stored the vials in a drawer.

  "Regardless, you can still be useful. Jairo told me you had these objects on you," he said, pointing to Carlos's items on the table. "I collect these artifacts. I'm fascinated by them; I want to understand what they're for and where they come from. The Church calls them 'devil's artifacts' and burns them, claiming they come from hell. But in reality, no one knows their origin. They say some tribes in Africa and the Americas summon them using certain gems, but so far, no one has found them. I still think they're summoned from somewhere, maybe even from hell, as the Church says."

  Stolen novel; please report.

  He stood up and took a book from the shelf.

  "These objects truly aren't from this world. Most are made of strange materials, with vivid colors. And they seem to have no purpose, not even the books. We can read them, but understanding is another matter; they talk about nonsense. Perhaps a scholar could decipher them, but the Church forbids any study on the topic. Luckily for me, we live in the middle of nowhere, and they don't bother us as much here. But I doubt anyone could decipher this, for example," he raised the book. "'Calculus I.' What is 'calculus'? What are these numbers and letters mixed together? It really does seem like something the devil would invent for fun."

  I have to agree with him there. Calculus was invented by the devil. Wait, it just hit me... this is a book from my world! Are they all like this? With these books, I could study and bring technology: electricity, fertilizer, gunpowder... But how has no one figured this out? Ah, I'm overthinking. We're in an era where they burn books and people. Illiteracy must be 99%. It's normal he doesn't know 'calculus.'

  "I told you all this because the story you gave my overseer intrigued me," Jorge said, fixing him with a stare. "Did you really find these artifacts lying on the ground?"

  Carlos looked once more at the pistol. A risky plan formed in his mind.

  "I'm sorry, master, I lied to your overseer. The truth is, I know how to summon the devil's artifacts. Please don't punish me, and I'll teach you the method."

  I know nothing about this world, but I won't keep being this worm's slave. And I won't leave anyone here in this condition.

  The statement irritated the old man, who grabbed a dagger from the desk and stabbed it into the wood violently.

  "If you lie to me, I'll cut out your tongue myself! You think I'll believe that? I already told you: no tribe knows anything about these artifacts. And you want me to believe you know how to summon them?"

  Pedro stopped fanning, looking at Carlos with concern.

  "I also studied some of the artifacts I summoned, like a Physics book. You can ask me anything that's in it."

  "Then tell me: what is Physics? What is mass? What is gravity?"

  "Physics is the science that studies nature and its phenomena. Mass is a property of matter, the amount of matter in a body. Gravity is the force of attraction between bodies with mass. It's what makes things fall. The force of gravity on Earth is 9.8 meters per second squared. You can check in the book."

  I don't remember exactly, but I think that's roughly it. I hope he's satisfied.

  Jorge, who barely understood what he read in the book, flipped through it reluctantly. To his surprise, Carlos's words matched the content, even the gravity number. This only irritated him more.

  "You must have found this book and memorized it! That proves nothing!"

  "Indeed, I only memorized it, as I summoned the books but didn't comprehend them. But how would a mere slave have access to these artifacts to the point of memorizing an entire book, if not through summoning? The Church burns them all, and I don't have the money to buy them like you, master."

  Part of what Carlos said made sense, but it wasn't enough. He then noticed a lighter on the shelf.

  "I also know how to use some of these artifacts. For example, that one there," he pointed.

  Out of curiosity, Jorge picked up the lighter and handed it to Carlos. He took it, spun the wheel three times, and a familiar blue flame appeared, crackling softly. The old man was impressed.

  "But how is this possible? Making fire without a fire gem!"

  The old man's gaze shifted from the lighter back to Carlos.

  "I still don't believe you, but I can hear you out. What do you need to summon these artifacts?"

  I don't know how magic works here, but gems must be rare and expensive.

  "One magic gem of each color, the size of a fist."

  "That is an absolute absurdity!" he roared, his voice echoing in the cavernous room. Spittle flew from his lips. "Do you have any idea how many types of gems exist and what a specimen of that size would cost?!"

  Crap, so there are more types? I thought it was just the ones from the vials. But that doesn't matter.

  "There is another way, using a specific artifact. For example, that one there," he said, pointing to the pistol.

  Jorge looked at Pedro, who picked up the gun and handed it to Carlos. He took it carefully, feeling the cold, heavy metal in his hands.

  "This one? How can this artifact summon others?"

  Carlos, excited, restrained himself from snatching the gun from Jorge's hands.

  "It can replace many gems. I just need to see if it meets the requirements. May I?"

  With a suspicious look, Jorge gave a curt, jerky nod. Carlos set down the lighter and took the gun. He pretended to analyze it carefully while his mind worked rapidly. I've never used a gun, but I've seen movies. First, check if there's a round in the chamber... then, take off the safety...

  He subtly pulled back the slide just enough to peek at the chamber. Empty. No surprise there. Then he moved the safety lever to the fire position, all while pointing the gun casually in Jorge's direction—not aiming directly, to avoid raising suspicion—and pulled the trigger.

  Click.

  Nothing happened. Shit! No ammo. Okay, I need him to buy ammunition. If he has a room full of this junk, he must have a supplier.

  He ejected the magazine. Empty.

  "This artifact is good, but it needs other small ones that come with it. I can draw them. With them, we can summon more artifacts."

  With a suspicious look, Jorge told him:

  "I don't believe you're telling the truth, but I'm not having you whipped because you seem to know how these things work. Starting tomorrow, every afternoon you will come here and explain to me, one by one, all the artifacts in my collection. I will buy these so-called summoning artifacts. But if I find out you're lying, I won't be as lenient as I was with Tassi. Now, get out of here and return to the cane fields."

  Before leaving, Carlos thanked him with a nod of his head and quickly left the office. As he exited the Big House, the sunlight hit his face. On the outside, he seemed calm. On the inside, a silent euphoria exploded. Yes! He fell for it hook, line, and sinker! Now I just need to be patient and hope he can get what I need.

  Meanwhile, Jorge watched his retreat from the balcony.

  "What a strange black man. How did he know those things? And that look in his eyes when he held the artifact... it was cold, calculating. He knew exactly what it was. I doubt it's for summoning things, but I'm curious. Besides, there's nothing he can do against me."

  The plantation owner pulled out two necklaces he wore under his shirt. One held a milky white gem, the other, a gem as black as amber. Both had complex carvings and shimmered in the light.

  "As long as I wear these necklaces, no one can harm me. If he's telling the truth, I only stand to gain. But, as a precaution..." he turned to Pedro. "I want you to stay close to Carlos and inform me of what he's planning."

  "Yes, master," Pedro replied, his serious eyes reflecting the faint light from the blue gem in his fan.