Chapter 9:

Right now Yuri was in a fairly strange state. His stomach felt full, like after a good meal, and there was a pleasant aftertaste in his mouth, beckoning him to devour that exquisite dish once more. Morally, however, he was in a rather precarious state.

More precisely — he was trying to be in a precarious state, but it was being forcibly suppressed. Right now he had just devoured a person. He didn't quite understand how — given that he hadn't even put any flesh into his mouth — but he knew and felt clearly how he had sucked out the man's life through fairly dubious means. And that was practically equivalent to killing him.

Yuri would have liked to panic, but instead of turmoil or even fear there was emptiness. Absolute nothingness in his emotions. That was precisely how suppression felt: you could think, yet far from all thoughts made it into your head — they simply vanished in the very process of forming. The same with emotions: you ought to be experiencing a broader spectrum — be it joy, anger, sadness — but it simply wasn't there. Any vivid emotion became nothing but a pale shadow of itself, leaving behind only a clear mind with no capacity for hysteria.

This state was truly terrifying. Obviously, Yuri could not feel fear — but the sense of crisis was large enough not to disappear even under suppression. He needed to find a solution, but that was difficult when his mind couldn't hold such thoughts for longer than a couple of seconds.

What he could think about in abundance, however, was the desire to fulfil his quota of "pitas." And yet this was where fear manifested least of all — meaning he was able to feel his knees trembling in a way he hadn't felt since school.

He had just taken a human life with his own hands — and wasn't even sure it had been necessary for his own survival. He had simply done it because it instinctively seemed right. Like salivating at the sight of high-quality meat: it happens reflexively, and you only realise it after the saliva has already come.

And right now Yuri had simply devoured a person — because it was instinct? He hadn't even considered how right or necessary it was. He had just done it because it felt like the natural course of events.

What the hell made cannibalism natural? Could Yuri even be considered human anymore — given what he was now capable of and what he had been through?

He needed to find a solution, but first had to deal with the quota. If he didn't handle it within the allotted time — something would happen that he would hardly want to experience.

Given the manner of his hiring into this "wonderful" job, Yuri wouldn't be surprised if their disciplinary measures turned out to be something extremely and extremely terrible.

[SHIT, AGAIN!]

His thoughts kept veering off course and relentlessly shifting toward completing his assigned work. And any deep reflection on his own situation felt, with every passing second, less significant than everything else. It was as if he were going mad — but paradoxically, his mind was absolutely calm.

But returning to the subject of work: he genuinely needed to find out what a "pita" was. And even if he found out — he also needed to clarify how exactly to deliver these "pitas," because right now he hadn't the faintest idea not only how to deliver them — he didn't even know where to!

And who exactly could he ask? That faceless and creepy fellow? That sounded stupid — because besides the basic fear of that monstrosity, given their magnificent parting last time, it would be fairly remarkable if he could articulate a clear answer. What about that enormous monster who had bitten off Yuri's head, then "politely" — with an accompanying fit and panic attack, naturally — explained the situation?

No, obviously that was better than the faceless monstrosity — but it was still a colossal monster that looked hideously revolting and had, to some extent, eaten Yuri's head.

Was Yuri repeating himself? [THEY BIT MY GODDAMN HEAD OFF! AM I NOT EVEN ALLOWED TO HAVE A BREAKDOWN?!]

Well, it wouldn't last long — given that even his current fit had practically subsided the moment it arose.

And again the familiar emptiness — like foul mud on the wing of his car — began settling directly into his consciousness. Empty, truly empty: no anger, no sadness — only a faint, barely perceptible fear, more resembling anxiety than anything that could genuinely be called fear in the human sense. Truly insignificance in its most direct form.

However, awareness and even understanding of his own situation didn't change his position — it simply irritated him, and then the irritation was suppressed. But what of it? The work wasn't going anywhere, while precious time was perfectly capable of running out.

So it was time to find this monster-like creature and learn what he needed to know. And how would Yuri find it? [By smell, b*tch~]

Just like a dog — Yuri could remember and detect smells, and provided the smell was familiar, he was even capable of tracking its source regardless of distance. In fact he could find a scent even if the source was extremely far away. Like a dog seeking out its beloved owner. How vile and repulsive Yuri felt — so much so that even the suppression couldn't fully evaporate those awful feelings. It managed with the greater part, of course — so the sensation wasn't as acute as before — but an unpleasant residue remained.

The monster's stench was memorable enough that tracking it required minimal effort. All that was left was to find the source.

...

..

.

Far from the city, where the country houses were, a young man was extremely on edge. For the past several days he had been haunted by a feeling of crisis, one that had never let him down.

He had to keep moving from place to place, yet the feeling never went away — on the contrary, it grew stronger.

And right now, in his country house, his sense of crisis was screaming like mad — as if a monster were about to devour him at any moment. (Calm down, Mark. It's just your paranoia.)

But as if fate had decided to play a cruel joke — colours began draining from the world. Like a drawing a child had scrawled crookedly beginning to lose its ink, with the outlines growing increasingly blurred.

A maw began to form from the walls, from which a rough tongue flowed like liquid. The maw slowly separated from the walls, using its own tongue as legs. Mark wanted to run, but his actual legs refused to move — he was paralysed by fear, primal and life-threatening fear.

The monster moved unhurriedly. Mark, belatedly realising his situation, lunged to the side, trying to run as fast as he could. But as if mocking him — the monster's tongue, previously serving as improvised legs, stretched out and with unimaginable speed but strangely delicate gentleness caught Mark's body.

It slowly drew him toward its fetid maw, as if savouring Mark's fear. And when less than thirty centimetres remained to the maw...

— Hey, I have a few questions for you.

A pink-haired beauty appeared — who in an instant shattered the oppressive atmosphere, offering hope of salvation.

— S-save me!

— Tch, why are you playing with your food like that — just eat him already.

But the girl, who looked seventeen at most, said something strange. Surely she couldn't have actually said something like that? Even if she did wear a strange cosplay with rabbit ears, still...

— Bleh bloo bla blyoo blyoo bla bleh. (Bumpkin, devoid of basic etiquette. It is extremely impolite of you to interfere with this lady's meal. However, taking your low origins into account — I shall grant your request.)

The monster muttered something. And Mark began to believe he might survive.

Crunch.

However, his thoughts were interrupted — interrupted by the chewing of his body...

Hope can prove quite painful — but Mark would never know that now.

Meanwhile, Yuri was watching this "meal" with a considerable degree of revulsion — considerable enough to at least be felt.

Having finished its primordial gorging, the monster "elegantly" — if such a word could even be applied — wiped its mouth with its own tongue.

— Bleh bloo bla blyoo bla. (Your speech is so vulgar it could make my ears wither. Your appearance is considered sufficiently attractive by the standards of females of your kind, however your behaviour...)

— I didn't come here to listen to your nonsense, but to ask a specific question related to "work." First: what is a "pita"? Second: where do I deliver it? Third: how do I deliver it?

— Blyoo bla bleh blo bli bla bloo blo. (Remarkable — not only do you speak like a peasant woman, your education is also at the level of a peasant woman's. This lady is generous enough to explain basic truths to such uneducated species as your own. Expressing myself in accordance with your level of development: what you "eat" is the energy necessary for our existence. And a "pita" is the condensate from our stomachs, expelled in the form of a crystallised residue. These residues are high-quality raw material for an enormous number of things — but your meagre level of intellect is unlikely to fully comprehend this. Once crystallised, you may send it to the hall where the employment contract was signed. You are quite capable of finding the way by smell.)

— First of all, I'm male.

— Bleh. (The head belongs to a woman — the mind governs the body.)

— Don't change the subject. I have to bring my own... waste there?!

— Bloo bla bleh. (Your mouth is pure vulgarity. How dare you, bumpkin, equate precious "pitas" with human excrement?)

— But they both come out the back end?

— Bloo bla. (With every word you say I grow stupider. Only lower species, which you formerly were, require trips to the bathroom. Being more evolutionarily advanced — "monsters" such as myself, and technically the pink-haired disgrace before me — simply condense substances at will through the mouth.)