Crates of meat were stacked against each other. Lucian approached without hesitation, stopping in front of them and scanning the whole lot up and down.
C-can this even be eaten? For some reason, looking at the unappetizing pile, he found himself swallowing. It really did look like trash, scavenged from the scraps of good meat, the dense cuts already stripped away and only the bad parts left behind. Somehow, that still made him gulp with hunger.
But for some reason, every time he looked at the pile, his stomach rumbled, and his judgment slowly gave way. His hesitation faded. The disgust he felt toward eating trash began to ease, or rather, he started to see this pile of disgusting scraps in a new light.
Of course, even with hunger quietly working on his better sense and making eating scraps of junk meat feel almost normal...
He couldn't even eat raw sushi. There was no way he would eat this meat raw.
Just thinking about the bacteria made him shiver. It looked slick and wet, glistening with its own juices. The only thing his rational mind could hold onto was... roasting.
He needed to roast it before carrying it, which raised another problem. What should he carry it in? He looked down at his blazer. Too small, and he would need it tomorrow. The smell would probably cling to him and draw unwanted attention.
He looked around and found a burlap sack, a coarse brown one, probably used for potatoes or charcoal.
Before picking it up, though, he realized he had been ignoring the person standing near the door. He turned and raised an eyebrow, sizing up the employee, a porter maybe, then smiled faintly and asked, "May I use this, sir?"
"Hmm? What for? You want this pile of trash?" The employee raised his eyebrows in confusion, and not just because this noble-looking student was being polite to him. The kid was actually interested in this pile of trash?
"Yes," Lucian said plainly.
"Whatever, suit yourself," the employee said, nodding and waving him off. He went back to leaning against the door frame, smoking.
After getting his approval, Lucian began picking through the crates. Hmm, which one should I pick? The dense cuts and the carcass remains of the beasts, what people here called Hollow Beasts, all but glowed in his eyes.
His brows were furrowed and the corner of his mouth twitched in disgust, but his gaze was bright with excitement. Just thinking about how many passive skills he could pick up from digesting these beasts.
Let's start with this one!
Then he paused and looked between his bare hands and the pile of remains. He needed a cover, gloves maybe. Where could he find those?
He looked around again and eventually tore a strip of burlap from the sack. There were no other options. Better to have some cover, even if it was not much.
Even though he had passive toxin immunity.
Next, Lucian reached for a thick bone, about the size of three fists, that looked like a leg bone split open lengthwise, as though cleaved apart.
It smelled disgusting, metallic and mineral-heavy, like licking a rusted pipe mixed with raw beef blood. It was not that heavy, each piece roughly two feet long and as thick as a man's forearm.
Bone marrow, he thought, stuffing the piece into the burlap. He found another, a rib cut, a large curved slab of dark reddish-brown meat still attached.
Too big. I'll save it for the next batch, he decided, shaking his head, then kept stuffing in bone marrow, at least three more pieces. As for which beast they came from, how could he know?
The novel's descriptions and real life were different. Aside from the clothes and a few characters, telling which beast a carcass belonged to was beyond an ordinary reader like him. So he just stuffed in whatever fit.
The goal was to carry as much as possible, ideally from different-looking beasts or different parts, all in one go.
Then his eyes landed on something that looked like a dog carcass. Hairless, gray-skinned, ribs showing through taut flesh, and the smell hit him hard here, rotting meat and wet fur.
Ugh. No. I'll skip this one. Even through the fog of hunger, he was clear-headed enough for that. He swept his gaze elsewhere and spotted some sacs in jars. Two thick glass jars, by the look of them. He reached out and touched one.
Hiss.
Lucian pulled back with a sharp breath. "What the hell is that?" He looked at his fingertips. A faint tingle, like his fingers were falling asleep, and then a transparent screen blinked into view:
[WARNING - CONTACT TOXIN DETECTED]
[Passive Skill - [TOXIC IMMUNITY (TIER 1)] - Triggered!]
Substance: Venom-Borer Slug Secretion (Rank 2)
Exposure: Dermal contact.
Status: Localized neurotoxin. Numbness spreading.
Host Toxin Immunity: [Incomplete - Ingested poisons only]
RECOMMENDATION: WASH IMMEDIATELY.
His eyes went wide. He stared at his palms, reddened and slightly swollen, and his focus locked onto the recommendation.
Damn. It can even go through cloth? He protested inwardly, but looking at the torn burlap strip, he knew the answer. A scrap ripped from a sack was never going to hold up against Rank 2.
He tossed the strip aside and found a coiled hose by the drain gate. He twisted the metal tap and a stream of shockingly cold water burst out, making him grit his teeth.
The cold made his wrists ache, but the numbness in his fingers slowly faded, and after a full minute it was gone. He looked at his burlap sack.
I think this is fine, he sighed. A pity, but he could always come back tomorrow. He picked up the sack.
"Huh, you're actually taking them? I figured you were just sniffing around because you got lost," the employee said, eyeing the bulging sack with surprise.
He had, of course, watched the whole time as Lucian winced in pain from the Rank 2 toxin. Without a word of help.
"Thank you for your assistance, sir," Lucian said politely, then turned and kept walking toward the maintenance shed. It sat between him and the main courtyard, cutting the line of sight, so he would draw less attention carrying a burlap sack full of smelly carcass parts.
"Just don't come crying to me when you're puking black blood tomorrow," the employee called after him. Lucian ignored it.
The message was clear enough. The man was worried about being implicated if Lucian turned up dead. But how could he have known? Lucian had a system.
Now I just need to find a place to roast this. The hunger gnawing at his mind, the thought of all those passive skills, the image of meat over a fire. It all knotted together into a single urgent thought.