Chapter 35: A Hundred Meals

Ruby cleared medical review before they accepted the municipal overflow cull together.

They worked through the lesser holding pens, checking each harvested trait against the log.

By the final containment door, Fin counted ninety-nine distinct traits across his completed hunts and reclamations.

"One more," he said, checking the monster listed on the last enclosure.

Rotten air drifted through the ventilation shafts, carrying the scent of ozone and beast fur.

"This vault contract smells like three bad ideas stitched together with wire," he muttered, testing the balance of his dark hatchet.

’An overflow cull that pays in unpurified monster cores is the exact currency we need,’ he thought, studying the darkened holding pen ahead.

Ruby planted the rim of her shield into the floor tiles, peering through the grating with narrowed, calculating eyes.

"The Association bulletin described a Chimera with boar tusks and shadow viper tails," she warned, tightening the grip on her spear.

"Hold the center lane while I flank its blind shoulder," he replied, feeling his augmented tendons hum with steady, coiled kinetic power.

A violent roar echoed from the containment pit as the mutated abomination burst through the rusted bars in a shower of sparks.

The beast stood four paces tall, snapping venomous snake tails while dragging razor talons across the cracked tiles with terrifying speed.

"Brace the perimeter!" she commanded, driving her kite shield straight into the charging monster’s chest plate with seasoned, unyielding balance.

The concussive collision arrested the creature’s forward charge, throwing both viper tails off alignment while exposing the unshielded neck seam.

"Strike through the collar now!" she shouted through clenched teeth, her running sneakers sliding half a meter across the slick tile floor.

He engaged his burst mobility ability without a breath of hesitation, feeling forty points of stamina drain from his ribs in electricity.

[ Active skill: Overclock initiated ]

[ Stamina: 100 → 60/100 ]

[ Agility: 78 → 234 (temporary surge) ]

’Six seconds to harvest the core,’ he thought, blurring along the left wall in a continuous silver streak of lethal acceleration.

His hatchet descended like an industrial guillotine, the reverse spike punching through the creature’s collarbone with a crisp bone snap.

He freed the hatchet and stored it, drawing both daggers into his hands.

He turned before the monster recovered, driving both daggers through the mana core beneath its jaw.

"Agh!" the chimera shrieked with three conflicting vocal cords, collapsing onto the floor plates as the burst skill faded from his limbs.

The beast shuddered once and died, leaving its core intact beneath the torn flesh.

He dropped into a low crouch beside the steaming skull, resting his open right palm against the cooling bone to begin extraction.

A sharp chime echoed inside his ears like a retail cash register opening, followed by golden letters washing across his vision.

[ Chimera core harvested: 100th distinct trait milestone reached ]

[ Milestone passive unlocked: Predator’s Digestion II ]

[ Weekly compounding: +1.5% to all absorbed physical attribute values ]

[ Bounty clear reward: +21,500 EXP ]

[ EXP: 74,400 / 2,500,000 ]

’A passive compounding interest rate on every point of strength and endurance,’ he thought, feeling a sudden wave of genuine nausea.

"Predatory compounding interest is how corporate banks eat poor families alive," he muttered softly, staring at the golden mathematical formula.

"You look like you swallowed a bad coin," she observed, wiping dark ichor from her spear point while stepping toward him.

"Come into the ante-room," he said in a quiet voice, pointing toward an empty observation booth with reinforced glass windows.

They walked into the small security office, the door clicking shut behind them to seal out the lingering smoke of battle.

He stood beside the metal desk, taking a slow breath before releasing the cloaking protocol that hid his personal system screens.

Golden light flooded the small room, casting sharp luminous projections of his status windows, attribute tables, and full absorption logs.

Ruby froze mid-stride, her dark eyes scanning the floating machine-formal text with the intense, calculating focus of a triage trauma surgeon.

[ Rank confirmed: d ]

[ EXP: 74,400 / 2,500,000 ]

[ Host status: Fin // potential: SSS ]

[ Active skills: Overclock (rank D) ]

[ Passive traits: Frost Skin l1, Heat Resistance +15%, Toxic Blood Inoculation, Predator’s Digestion II ]

"This is the uncatalogued system that woke up when my heart stopped beating," he confessed in an even, unvarnished voice.

"My initial quests supplied a foundation; monster traits and rank advances account for the rest," he explained.

"Two and a half million experience points is a terrifying metric," she observed, checking the golden progress bar with a quiet whistle.

’She evaluates an impossible leveling curve with the same detached calm she uses for casualty counts,’ he thought with genuine quiet admiration.

"And the sponsor voice that whispers in your head?" she asked softly, stepping closer to read the dead communication channel line.

"A celestial entity without a name," he answered, letting the quiet cosmic static buzz between them for three brief seconds.

"She called me a little spark, offered an unsigned contract while I bled, and vanished before naming her full price," he added.

Ruby did not back away toward the doorway, reaching out instead to tap the floating potential line with her right index finger.

"Potential SSS," she murmured thoughtfully, her soldier mind categorizing the impossible letter grade without showing a trace of panic or fear.

"What happens when you absorb something from an SS-rank gate?" she asked, looking up into his dark eyes with steady curiosity.

"I do not know," he answered with a faint dry smirk, "and I am not in a hurry to find out."

She reached inside her tactical jacket, pulling out a battered notebook bound in black leather and tied with a fraying string.

The pages were dense with handwritten dates, weapon sketches, and forensic timelines recorded since the night she met him at the docks.

"This is my private investigation file on the Halden Street anomaly," she said softly, placing the worn book into his hands.

"You gave me your system," she whispered, her lips curving into a tired smile, "so I am giving you my work."

"You tracked my movement speeds since the freezing works incident?" he asked, flipping through her meticulous handwritten margin notes with surprise.

"A good soldier always monitors an unpredictable variable," she replied, resting her hand against his forearm with quiet, steady warmth.

Fin held the notebook between his fingers, realizing that this trade of classified secrets carried far more intimacy than any kiss.

He unzipped his dark jacket and slid the book inside, pressing the worn paper directly against his heart beneath his shirt.

A sudden crimson flare ignited at the edge of his peripheral vision, presenting an uninvited system alert that pulsed with urgency.

[ Host potential: SSS : threshold approaching ]

[ Warning: external cosmic observation parameters shifting ]

’Do not get poetic on me now,’ he thought flatly, dismissing the dramatic warning panel with an irritated flick of his wrist.

"All clear to move out?" she asked, picking up her kite shield from the desk while checking the hallway through the glass.

"Shift is finished," he answered, checking the door handle before leading the way out toward the maintenance tunnel stairs ahead.

The cool evening wind met them at the street grate, carrying the distant wail of factory sirens across the lower district roofs.

Ruby paused on the pavement, looking at him with the sharp, unyielding gaze that defined her years as an outbreak specialist.

"If that potential line is a ticking countdown," she said in a firm voice, "we start treating every shift like a raid."