Evening Food

"A– An evil spirit? A hungry one?!"

The muddy man nodded to Ikky's question, choosing to be oblivious to the terror sparking in Ikky's eyes.

"I think it was called the Okuro or something. That's not quite it but, who cares about names? People say it just sits there during daylight times, but is active when the lights are out."

Ikky, with his eyes staring with full attention, and refusing to blink for even a second, asked, "What does it do when the lights are out?"

The man itched his dirty brown hair while replying casually, "Who knows? Even the spirits know better than to stay out past curfew."

In other words, no one knows what exactly that shadowless monstrosity does at night, only that it was indeed alive. However, with how dreadful the curiosity of humans were, was it really possible that no one has ever come outside after curfew?

"No one treads the open when the lights go down. That's what they say..."

Ikky gulped before taking one last look at the monolith, 'Some things are better off staying mysterious. And there's no way no one has ever poked their head out at night.'

The fact that the residents still say that no one has just made Ikky's skin crawl more.

"But that specific part of the night is only three hours long. So you can still get out after 12 am in the morning. The skeleton does have another use though."

Right on time, the other purpose of the monolith revealed itself to Ikky as a strange crackling voice reached his ears,

"Newly anointed Prophets are to come to the Divining Temple in exactly one weeks time. Failure to comply may result in being marked as a rogue."

Prophets had their Augur spirits to guide them, but even they weren't omniscient. The Divining Temple is a gathering place for Prophets who might want to know more about themselves, control their Totems better and partake in omens. It was like an academy and guild at the same time.

To increase the survivability of newly anointed Prophets, whenever an omen has been divined, Totem-wielders are either selected in groups to conquer that omen, rather than just going in alone.

The establishing of the Temple was a good thought, however, wherever man touched, there was chaos and divide. And since every Prophet's Mark-grade was revealed under the guise of picking the proper candidates for the omens, a place like the Divining Temple had a bigger and much more disturbing hierarchical system than on Svarga.

But what did that matter to Ikky at his current self? He wouldn't be surprised if he would be fleshed out again from the rest because of his life in Sumeru. Being a 'cockroach' like he was, flaunting a 1st-grade Mark around would make him even more of a target... of a victim.

While the two continued to walk to who knows where, Ikky got to see more of this wondrous and mystifying place.

'So it's called Mahar.' He thought as he watched through the glass wall of a building, people watching a strange soccer game played by spirits from a TV screen.

There were no suitable roads for vehicles to pass through on the ground, but the sky was filled with humans on floating clouds as they zipped through the sky.

"Woah." Ikky exclaimed in wonder. "Are those also spirits?"

"Sure. Because of them, you might get sudden drizzles while walking the streets sometimes. Haha, i's kinda like they're peeing on our heads. But, the water is pure... so I've heard."

"What about these things?" Ikky pointed at the blue marble ground as a large winged whale swam past their feet.

"Those are also transportation spirits, or Vimanas, going by the appropriate vocabulary. They're a type of swimming Vimanas, and are kinda like the trains on Earth. The clouds by the way are from a group called, Flying Vimanas."

"Transport spirits that fly in the sky are Flying Vimanas, while those that swim underground are called swimming Vimanas. Wow, this place has a lot of strange words." Ikky scratched the back of his head.

The muddy man laughed. "There's hundreds of varieties of spirits, but I guess that's enough for today. As you stay around longer, you'll eventually come to know their names and what they do anyway."

"Yeah." Ikky continued to look around. "There's a whole lot of them. Everything here is practically run by spirits!"

Sure enough, Mahar was a place only Prophets could enter. And Prophets battled bad omens, not open food stalls.

But the muddy man stood to correct him. "Not everything."

The two of them stopped in front of a two-storey building. It's exterior was round, and made of glass and brown walls. It was like an edifice taken out from the side of a beautiful palace.

Through the glass walls, Ikky took glances at the people sitting in the building, enjoying themselves as they indulged in food and drinks.

At the second floor, he saw the kindred spirit responsible for this distinctive restaurant. With a smile on her face, and colourful patches on her brown uniform, she gently placed a tray of food on a table, engaging with small talk at her customers while their food were being served.

Another man could probably delve more into her feminine shape and appearance in their own descriptions, but the only thing that really reached Ikky's brain was how pleasant her smile looked.

Ikky had lived a life fearing each day could be his last. Such a mind was not used to processing vain and unnecessary information such as how beautiful a person was, nor what was going on in the minds of strangers who he would see only a few times in his life. The only standards to him where divided into those who ate, and those who picked up their scraps.

But the muddy man didn't know that.

"Don't ogle her too much. She's my wife you know." He tapped Ikky's back before spaghetti dancing through the entrance as the door slid open. "I'm here, honey!"

"Eww. I eat leftovers, but I draw the line at just food." Ikky dusted his back as he followed.

Standing in front of the transparent door, Ikky looked inside as the muddy man's wife came to meet him. The two spoke for a while, and then the man turned to look in his direction with a strangely alert look.

Looking closely, Ikky laughed. "Hey Yaga, watch this." Hunching his back and scattering his pale dry hair to cover his face, Ikky took a step back and lifted a leg in the air.

"H-Hey, what is that?" A passerby halted, taking a look at Ikky's unholy figure.

"Did Charlotte get into trouble?" Another asked, seeing as Ikky was about to kick the restaurant's glass door to shards.

But then the door slid open on its own. Nonetheless, Ikky's raised leg sprung forward.

*Crack!*

"Augh!!"

"Ah!"

"Oh gods up high!!!"

After the eerie cracking sound, practically every man within a mile radius fell on their knees as they exclaimed in terror. Even the muddy man shivered from inside the restaurant.

This was because Ikky's damn leg had smashed right into the arch of the legs of an exiting customer. He was even lifting the man up, carrying his victim with his leg under the man's groin.

Letting out a low pitched sound, the customer fell flat on the ground.

"What the bloody hell man?!" A random man yelled.

"That dude's balls!" Another followed, with an expression of pain.

Even if they weren't the ones who had been kicked in the third leg, about ninety percent of the pain was psychically transmitted into their brains. To the men who understood how vulnerable that particular place was, that kick must have hurt like hell!

Not minding their distressed and angry voices, Ikky bent over to pull out the clothes the man had smuggled underneath his shirt.

He then kicked the man's body away and proceeded to walk into the restaurant.

"Sorry bruh, I would have let you go, but it kinda looked like they wanted to give me this stuff. And I couldn't let you walk away with my stuff." He shook his head in false pity.

"That being said, these clothes are the only things I found. Really? This ain't worth the energy." He was almost half naked in his tattered clothes at this point, yet Ikky would rather have food instead.

"Is this what you were looking for?" He shook the clothes in front of the muddy man and his wife.

"Err, yes..." She glanced at her husband and then back at Ikky. "Did you see when that man stole them?"

"Nah. I've just got a good eye for trouble makers." Ikky pulled off his shirt and put on the new one right on the spot.

"What? These are for me, aren't they?"

The restaurant owner clapped her hands in front of her face as she breathed in an air of frustration. Staring at the ground, she asked, "Rick dear, take him to the shower."

Rick stumbled towards Ikky and pulled him along. "S-sure."

"Shop closes in ten minutes everyone. So shove down your food and get out... carefully."

No one objected Charlotte's 'polite' request, as the customers ate faster, while the rest departed, dragging along the unconscious man with definitely shattered testicles.

Minutes later, after the restaurant had cleared, Ikky walked, teary eyed to the alter of food sitting at a table. He couldn't believe it.

"So much grub!"

"Psst!" Rick, the muddied man nudged Ikky's shoulder. "Remember what I told you. Try not to eat like a slob, and show some manners, okay—"

But Ikky was already face deep into a bowl of rice. He couldn't control himself.

"People die, Rick. And sometimes, they can't help it!" He sniffed, with his eyes still tearing up.