Last Meal

The rising sun could be seen across the horizon, its first few rays brought forth warmth and luminescence at the earth below...

Blue Jewel Valley was a rather quiet place. It was 20 kilometers away from the nearest civilization and was considered a famous tourist spot before the Cataclysm occurred. Now, it serves a new purpose altogether.

Beneath the Blue Jewel Valley was the entrance to a government-funded facility. It's called the 'Risk Management Center'.

The Risk Management Center (RMC) was a place where all people considered a 'Risk' were gathered and monitored. It is a law that all RMCs should be built outside civilizations to prevent accidents from happening.

Hundreds of years ago, Demons invaded Prime Earth. Humans were no match against them and the world changed since then.

Humanity fell to the bottom of the food chain when Demons started corrupting Prime Earth's continents. All sorts of mutations occurred, and all were harmful to humans so their numbers swiftly dwindled.

Thankfully, a change happened that helped Humans survive. The collective consciousness of Prime Earth - Acala, used her powers to displace all the Demons from the world. She then built a buffer plane called 'Purgatory' which prevented demons from returning to Prime Earth.

She also forced the Demons into an Oath and bestowed humans the power of the 'System' creating a new breed of Humans which are now called Superhumans.

In exchange for all of this, Acala issued a mandatory mission to every Superhuman which forces them to eliminate Demons to maintain peace in this world.

Those who complete their mandatory service are bestowed with resources that they could use to increase their strength even further, not to mention prestige and awe from people as well.

As for those who failed, well...they can either choose the humane way to die or they turn into 'Nodes' which Demons could use to infiltrate Prime Earth once more. That's of course, if they weren't caught by the authorities before it happens.

...which is where the Risk Management Centers are for.

In simpler terms, Risk Management Centers are just modern-day prisons. They are used to contain people who repeatedly fail in their monthly mandatory tasks. People who were thrown here were considered as the dregs of the society or the unlucky ones.

As the morning started in the Risk Management Center, the 'prisoners' woke up and headed to the mess hall to have their breakfast.

Even though all signs were pointing to a rather beautiful start to the day, that was hardly noticed by the people who were stuck there.

The atmosphere in this place was filled with anxiousness, desperation, and helplessness. Don't be fooled by those who wear a smile on their faces. These people are either lucky this time around (which will not last at all) or really good a faking it.

To know their true state, one only has to look at their napes, where the monitoring chips are visible. The majority of them are red with a few yellows here and there. None are green, which means that all of them are suffering from failure, in one way or another...

As the prisoners lined up for breakfast, the staff filled their metal plates with what seemed to be porridge...at least it looked like porridge.

Some prisoners grumbled at the sight of their meal, but none of them dared to complain out loud. There's no use anyway. Complaining won't miraculously turn their meals into gourmet food so why waste energy in doing it?

That, and a glass of water was all they received for today. Well, they could have as much water as they want of course, but that doesn't really improve the situation at all.

At one of the tables, a man with short blond hair could be seen eating his fill. He's dressed in loose, dirty white clothes. He had a borderline malnourished body, sunken cheeks, large eyebrows, and a pale complexion.

He absent-mindedly consumed the porridge despite it being cold and lumpy. He then washed the aftertaste with water while his eyes were locked on the television screen that was now broadcasting the news.

"Done already, Cedric?" The man beside him jolted him back to the present.

"Mn," Cedric grunted softly, feeling some discomfort at the spot where his friend patted him.

Cedric's eyes flew to the chip that was on his friend's nape and saw it gleaming with a bright yellow color. He pursed his lips and compared that to his own which was a bright red.

"Lucky again this month, I see," Cedric grumbled softly, which the man beside him obviously heard, causing him to laugh slightly.

"Jealousy isn't a good look on you, Cedie boy!" The man chided, causing Cedric to grumble in annoyance. "Well, what I can do? It seems that I, Harold Erickson, am truly a lucky man. The gods haven't forsaken me yet so I'm working hard to earn their favor."

"...gods, eh?" Cedric sneered, "Whatever lets you sleep at night, I guess."

" Smack! Ey! Don't be like that. Learn to loosen up with you?" Harold smacked Cedric's shoulders again.

"Ow, you prick!" Cedric hits him back but the brute just laughs it off and continues eating.

"...according to the reports, Lt. Mackenzie kept a Quota Streak of 100, earning him handsome rewards from the government and recognition for his services. When asked what his plans were moving forward, the man said that he would continue his streak, killing more demons to keep the world peaceful..."

The sonorous voice of the reported rang within the mess hall, catching several attention of the prisoners. People started talking about the man who got a rather absurd achievement, earning a heated discussion from the crowd.

"Damn! 100 Quota Streak? Seriously?" Harold whistled as he glanced at the television. Cedric remained quiet but inwardly, he too was amazed.

The Mandatory Task that Acala gives to Superhumans holds incredible importance to today's society. As such, the success and failures of these tasks are met with varying degrees of reaction from the crowd.

'Quota Streak' refers to the continuous success of satisfying the Mandatory Tasks. Lt. Mackenzie earning a value of 100 Quota Streaks meant that he had succeeded in clearing the mandatory tasks 100 times in a row, which was an incredible achievement in this day and age.

'...if I had the same Class Tier as him as well as Aptitude, I would also earn that kind of streak. He's just fucking lucky, that's all.' Cedric inwardly grumbled at the unfairness.

According to the public knowledge, Lt. Mackenzie was a holder of a rare Class Tier called 'Berserker' which was already absurd on its own. Additionally, he's also an S-Rank Superhuman.

So, in Cedric's eyes, this kind of achievement should be nothing to that guy. After all, he was blessed by the heavens for possessing such qualities.

'Compared to mine, it's just...'

Cedric silently called upon his status window and a blue light swam in his vision. Words formed and within a second, his information panel was displayed before him.

  ===

[Profile]

Name: Cedric Stormrider

Age: 21

Race: Human

Class: Tier 1 - Swordsman

Level: 2

Aptitude:

Body: E

Energy: C

Spirit: -

Final rating: D

Skills: Stab, Cleave, Parry, Block, Roll

  ===

'...so unfair.' He grumbled to himself as he dismissed the screen and continued watching the news.

After that report, nothing else seems to be interesting. He watched a couple more news before deciding to leave this place.

Cedric sighed and rubbed his shoulders, inwardly cursing his friend for having a rather blessed physique. He then stood up with his empty plate on hand which he brought to the dishwasher.

He was about to return to his room and wallow in sadness when he was stopped by a man whom he had never interacted with before.

"...what's up?" He asked after turning around and looking at the guy who stopped him.

"I'm...would you like to have this?" Said the man, offering him an untouched plate of food.

Cedric studied the man's face, skepticism coloring his expression at the man's offer. The man was smiling at him in a friendly manner too. Unfortunately, Cedric wasn't fooled by that.

"...I don't have Demon Souls to spare, sorry." Cedric directly declined the offer, but the man stopped him again.

"No, I'm not asking for Demon Souls, Young Man. I just...well, I just thought that you should eat more." The man replied.

Cedric blinked. That sounded like an indirect insult, wasn't it? And as he was about to refuse, the man said something that changed his perception.

"I...this might...no, this will be the last time that I'll be here." The man said softly, causing Cedric's heart to sink to his stomach.

"..."

"Frankly, I'm not hungry. Even if they were to serve me my last meal, I doubt that it will arouse my appetite. So uh...here, you need this more than I do."

Cedric bit his lips. His head was lowered and his eyes were covered by his bangs, hiding the complicated look they have.

"...may I know your name, Sir?" He asked, his voice trembled a bit when he did so.

"Hahaha! Just call me Old Bull, that's how everybody knows me anyway!" The man replied.

"Then...thank you, Old Bull. I'll enjoy this meal on your behalf." Cedric replied, giving the man a genuine-looking smile as he received the plate from him.

Old Bull's eyes softened as he heard this, and with a nod he walked away, escorted by the guards. Cedric bit his lips so hard that it started bleeding. He then sent the man away with his gaze before taking the plate of food to his room.

He'd normally eat in the mess hall but he didn't want people seeing him cry while doing it, so he chose to eat it in his room instead.

...the guards will understand, right?