Bloodstar System: Infinite Evolution Through Beast Slaughter

Chapter 4: Breaking Through!

The lunch whistle shrieked through the factory.

The workers collapsed where they stood, as if their bones had been pulled out. A few tried to get up and failed on the first attempt.

"Food!"

Brann slapped the nearest worker on the shoulder, then pushed himself upright with one hand pressed against his lower back. His face twisted as he straightened.

Then he looked at Joren.

The young man was still standing there, covered in dark red blood. His chest rose and fell a little faster than usual, his breathing not quite steady.

But his eyes were bright.

Too bright.

There was no real exhaustion in them. Instead, he had the look of a starving wolf that had been dragged away before it could eat its fill.

Something tightened in Brann’s chest.

This kid was ruthless down to the bone.

Joren ignored everyone else and walked to the faucet. He twisted the valve open.

Cold water rushed over his face and arms.

Blood ran down with the stream, staining the ground red.

He washed for a long time, until his skin had gone pale from the cold, then shut the water off.

After shaking the droplets from his hands, he headed for the cafeteria.

The atmosphere inside was strange.

At this hour, the cafeteria was usually noisy. Today, it was quiet enough to hear chopsticks touching the edges of bowls.

Everyone was there.

Without discussing it, they all kept their distance from Joren.

Wherever he walked, a clear space opened around him.

No one met his eyes.

These old hands had spent half their lives slaughtering beasts, yet when they looked at Joren now, there was respect in their faces, and something harder to name beneath it.

Joren did not care.

He picked up his tray and found an empty seat.

The tray held the usual cafeteria food. Heavy oil, heavy salt, and a scoop of mashed potatoes.

He had just picked up his spoon when a huge shadow fell over the table.

Brann set a stainless steel basin in front of him.

Bang.

Every gaze in the cafeteria shifted over.

Inside the basin was a small mountain of Brutebull meat.

The pieces had been cut large and stewed until tender with simple spices. Steam rolled up from the meat, and the rich smell pushed into every nose in the room.

It was fresh Brutebull loin.

The workers usually only got to eat this when bonuses were handed out.

But today, the portion was absurd.

Brann pulled out a chair and sat across from Joren. He lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, then blew out a ring of smoke.

"Yours."

"You killed the most today. By our unspoken rule, that means you eat the best."

"We may not have much here."

He tapped ash to the side.

"But Brutebull meat? Eat as much as you can."

The cafeteria stayed quiet.

Everyone looked at the basin, then at Joren’s unreadable face.

Envy, jealousy, resentment. All of it sat in their eyes, mixed together.

No one objected.

Because Brann was right.

The capable worked more and earned more.

It was the simplest kind of fairness, and the damn truest one.

Joren lifted his eyes once, but said nothing. He only pushed his own tray aside.

Then he picked up his fork, stabbed a large piece of beef still glistening with oil, and put it into his mouth.

It was good.

Fat and lean meat together, stewed until soft.

The fragrance of oil and the deep savor of meat burst across his tongue.

Joren chewed, swallowed, and felt the chunk slide down his throat.

Warmth followed it.

It entered his stomach, then spread sharply outward, rushing into his limbs and bones.

The muscles that had grown sore from the morning’s work drank in that sudden energy like dry sponge soaking up water.

Brutebulls were Feralborn with thick hides and dense flesh.

Slaughtering them consumed a frightening amount of stamina.

Killing them in one clean strike, the way Joren did, was even harder.

The fatigue left from swinging his blade all morning was being washed away by that warmth.

Joren’s eyes sharpened slightly.

For Awakened Warriors, this meat could replenish Vital Force.

For ordinary people, it could strengthen the body with remarkable effect.

Once he understood that, Joren stopped holding back.

His eating speed changed at once.

One piece.

Then another.

The workers watched him eat like a storm sweeping across a field. They watched the small mountain of beef shrink at a speed visible to the naked eye.

At last, Joren pushed the empty stainless steel basin back to the center of the table.

It landed with a dull sound.

He burped once, his mouth still filled with the rich taste of meat.

The stamina he had spent that morning had completely returned.

More than that, his whole body felt packed with strength, his energy almost overflowing.

He clenched his fist.

His knuckles cracked in a rapid string of pops.

His strength had increased again.

Brann held the cigarette between his lips and studied him through narrowed eyes.

The kid had cleaned out the entire basin. Not even the broth was left.

Joren picked up a napkin from the table and wiped his mouth slowly.

Then he crumpled it and tossed it into the empty basin.

He raised his head and looked at Brann.

"Brann."

"Hm?"

"Can you bring in more Voidbeasts tomorrow?"

Brann’s fingers paused around his cigarette.

Then he grinned.

"There are more this afternoon. They are already on the way."

The workers around them felt their faces twitch.

This kid was a monster.

He had gotten addicted to killing.

Brann had nothing to say for a moment.

He had seen plenty of martial high school students before. One of them had come to the slaughterhouse once, clutched his stomach, and ran out before the first beast was even cut open.

Joren was nothing like that.

In one morning, he had gone from a clean, harmless looking young man to a butcher soaked in blood.

After the meal, Joren found a quiet place and sat alone.

He closed his eyes.

"System."

A pale blue virtual panel appeared before him.

[Host: Joren]

[Mental Force: 10]

[Combat Rank: Mortal 5/20]

[Bloodstars: 5.0]

[Combat Arts: Basic Bladecraft 5/5; Basic Body Tempering 3/8]

[Talent: Bladehand White]

Joren looked at the line that read [Bloodstars: 5.0], and the corner of his mouth lifted.

He did not hesitate.

Why had he worked all morning?

For this.

"System, add points."

"Put all of them into Combat Rank."

The moment the thought formed, the panel changed.

[Ding!]

[Bloodstars minus 5.0]

[Combat Rank plus 5]

Almost as soon as the notification sounded, a different kind of heat burst from his heart.

It was far more violent and pure than the Vital Force gained from eating the meat.

The heat rushed through his limbs and bones, through every inch of muscle, every meridian, every hidden corner of his body.

Crack.

Crack crack.

A dense series of popping sounds came from inside Joren’s body.

His bones trembled. His muscles shifted in tiny waves, greedily absorbing the power that had appeared from nowhere.

A few seconds later, the fierce heat withdrew into him.

Joren slowly breathed out and opened his eyes.

His strength had changed.

So had his speed.

Even his senses felt sharper.

He called up the panel again.

[Host: Joren]

[Mental Force: 10]

[Combat Rank: Mortal 10/20]

[Bloodstars: 0.0]

[Combat Arts: Basic Bladecraft 5/5; Basic Body Tempering 3/8]

[Talent: Bladehand White]

His Bloodstars were gone.

But his Combat Rank progress had already reached the halfway point.

Would his killing efficiency not be even higher now?