Bloodstar System: Infinite Evolution Through Beast Slaughter

Chapter 1: The Bloodstar System!

The air conditioning in Hector Tyren’s office was turned so low that opening the door might have solved global warming.

On the genuine leather sofa, Hector Tyren sat with every strand of hair combed neatly into place. He lifted his teacup and blew lightly across the foam floating on the surface.

"Your parents were heroes. Fallen Guardians. The academy has never denied that. Precisely because of that, we hope you can live this life safely and peacefully."

Hector set down the cup. Behind his gold rimmed glasses, his gaze carried the careful pity of a man judging someone from above.

"The martial path is a path of struggle. Every step is paved with blood. Your Talent rating is only average. Holding on to that Strategic Exemption Quota will do nothing for you except make other students jealous and turn you into a target."

Joren stood in front of the desk with his back straight.

His eyes were still as dead water as he watched the middle aged man before him speak one righteous line after another.

Ten minutes ago, Hector Tyren had made a suggestion.

Joren should voluntarily sign a transfer agreement and give up the Strategic Exemption Quota specially approved for a Guardian Descendant, without compensation.

The quota would go to Dace Hurst from the class next door.

Dace was Hector Tyren’s nephew.

"Joren, you are still young. It is easy to let emotions take control."

When Joren said nothing, Hector leaned forward a little and tapped his fingers against the desk. The dull knocks sounded one after another.

"We need to be scientific. We need to be efficient. Dace is already an Initiate Warrior, and his Talent is rated excellent. Only in his hands can these resources show their greatest value. This is not only for the academy’s advancement rate. It is also for humanity’s great cause of resisting the Beast Tide."

At this point, Hector sighed, as if Joren’s lack of sense had truly pained him.

"If you give up the quota, the academy will grant you twenty thousand credits as a nutrition allowance. Take the money. Start a small business, or find work as an ordinary employee. Live a steady, peaceful life. Would that not be good? Must you really go to the Frontier and throw your life away?"

Joren finally spoke.

"My parents died in the Beast Tide. Not even their bones were recovered."

"This is the compensation the state gave them. They bought it with their lives."

Joren raised his eyes. A faint chill passed through his dark pupils.

"Why should Dace get it? Just because he is your nephew?"

The office went quiet.

The air seemed to stop moving.

The gentle mask on Hector Tyren’s face began to flake away, like a layer of dried plaster cracking loose from the wall.

He stopped tapping the desk and leaned back in his chair. The pity in his eyes vanished, leaving only the cold disgust of someone looking down from high above.

Hector opened a drawer, took out a document that had clearly been printed in advance, and tossed it onto the corner of the desk.

"Since you have no sense of collective honor and insist on being this selfish, Third High cannot accommodate someone as important as you."

At the top of the document, several bold words stabbed the eye.

Notice of Expulsion.

The reason column contained a line of grand and proper language.

Corrupt moral character. Disrespect toward teachers. Severe violation of school rules and discipline.

"Sign it. Then get out."

"I will hold on to your academic file. Without it, no school in Norcrest will accept you. Since you refuse to leave with dignity, I will give you dignity myself."

Joren looked at the notice.

He did not roar in anger. He did not demand an explanation.

He simply reached out, picked up the thin sheet of paper, gave it one glance, and tore it apart in front of Hector Tyren.

The scraps scattered across the polished floor like snow.

"You will regret this."

Leaving those words behind, Joren turned and pushed the door open.

Behind him came the sharp crash of a teacup shattering on the floor.

...

Norcrest West District. The slaughterhouse.

This place was the city’s sewer.

The air was thick with blood, mixed with the stink of feces, rust, and rotting organs. An ordinary person would feel acid climbing up their throat after standing here for one minute.

Huge ventilation fans rumbled overhead, cutting through the muddy air again and again.

So this is my new starting point?

Joren stood at the filthy entrance and looked up at the rust covered sign.

Norcrest Beastworks.

Voidbeast meat contained violent energy, so ordinary people could not eat it. For Awakened Warriors, however, it was a supplement.

Norcrest was a major martial city, and the Voidbeast industry was one of its pillars.

The slaughterhouse sat at the bottom of that entire chain.

It was also the hardest and filthiest part.

The pay here was not bad.

Joren needed money.

He needed to stay alive.

Processing these Voidbeasts was extremely dangerous.

Even a dying Feralborn could snap back in its final moments and bite through an ordinary person’s neck.

That was why the wages here were five times higher than ordinary jobs outside.

Creeeak.

After an ear piercing scrape of metal, a blood soaked world opened before him.

The factory floor was enormous. Rows of pale lights hung from the high ceiling.

More than a dozen workers in waterproof rubber suits were busy at their stations, their movements numb and practiced.

Some used high pressure hoses to rinse blood from the floor. Others swung huge cleavers, cutting apart Voidbeast carcasses as large as small hills.

The muffled thud of blades entering flesh and the harsh screech of saws cutting through bone lingered in the air.

The moment Joren stepped inside, every noise on the factory floor stopped.

More than a dozen gazes came from every corner and pinned themselves to him.

Joren stood in that blood red world wearing a clean shirt and jeans.

He did not belong there at all.

Like a sheet of white paper dropped into an ink pool.

A burly man at the cutting table lowered the giant bone saw in his hands. Then he casually grabbed a boning knife from his waist and walked toward Joren.

The man was huge, a full head taller than Joren. Thick slabs of muscle packed his frame and stretched his waterproof suit tight.

Blood still dripped from the boning knife.

He stopped three steps away from Joren. A heavy smell of sweat and blood rolled over him.

"Well, well. Where did this little student come from?"

The burly man was named Brann. He was the boss of this slaughtering section.

He looked Joren up and down.

Fair skin, thin as a monkey. The school badge had been removed from his clothes, but that bookish air could not be hidden.

"You take a wrong turn?"

Brann wiped blood from his face and spoke in a rough, booming voice.

"This is not a restaurant. It is not a library either."

"Get out of here before you wet your pants and make me wash them for you."

"I am here to apply for a job."

Joren walked up to Brann. His eyes passed over the man and landed on the restless Feralborn in the cages behind him.

"Apply for a job?"

"Pfft!"

Someone laughed first.

"With skin that tender, he does not look like he can work."

"Reporting in? This is not a good place. People get carried out every day. You sure you are not leaving?"

"Look at that body. A gust of wind could knock him over, and he came to the slaughterhouse?"

"You are so young. Why would you come to a place like ours?"

"I bet he will not last half a day. The smell alone will make him puke on his way out."

The comments came without restraint.

Brann was amused. He chopped the boning knife into the cutting table with a heavy thud.

"You know what this place does? Slaughter pigs. And these are not farm pigs. They are Ironhide Boars that eat people."

"I know."

Joren’s face did not change.

"But I need money."

Brann was quiet for a long while.

"Fine. You need money, right?"

He sighed and pointed at a pile of tools in the corner.

"You look like a student. I guess you ran into some trouble. There is a hose and a brush over there. You can clean intestines. It is dirty, but safe. Two hundred credits a day, paid daily."

Joren knew very well that Brann was looking out for him.

He accepted the kindness in his heart.

Stay away from danger and still get paid.

For a newcomer with nowhere else to go, this was almost the best arrangement he could get.

Just as Joren was about to speak, a voice rang in his mind without warning.

[Ding!]

[Voidbeasts detected!]

[Bloodstar System activated!]

[Bloodstar System: Killing Voidbeasts grants Bloodstars. Bloodstars can be used to improve Combat Rank, advance the cultivation level of Combat Arts, acquire Voidbeast Talents, and more.]

Joren’s body stiffened.

I awakened a system?

The standard golden finger for a transmigrator had finally arrived?

A flash of joy crossed Joren’s eyes.

"I want to slaughter Voidbeasts."