"I couldn't bring myself to do my job," I sighed after reading my termination letter. "They are people too. I can't just assault them if they don't reach quota." The letter had a lot of meaningless text. Mainly, I was asked to return my badge and baton to my replacement in front of the mine immediately, not even a week's notice. For dinner tonight, I have nothing to put on our table. We are back to square zero.
A dozen months ago, a position was freed up in district B of Dislone. I was not aware of that at the time, nor would I have been interested. Those people are despised by all Dislonians, the disrespect is mutual. Although, the job office crowds up like a 'rat king' in times like these, desperation pushing people to a fake sense of freedom, ending in a butchery pathing on red carpets, drooling all the way to the river.
One singular thought was running a marathon through my mind that whole day, "less people, more food." The reason for everyone's absence could easily be deduced as the job application was not an uncommon event, yet my mind was mostly focused on a higher certainty survival rate rather than a gamble. Still, in these periods, hunting for rats was no easy task, lurkers in every corner of every street, living with content, or hate. I'm not the only one with common sense.
People with the luxury of owning houses endlessly breeding them are considered a higher class, at least the ones who successfully feed them enough to secure food. Others have to pray that some of those rats become sick, or escape their artificial hive. Natural hives of rats are rare yet still possible. Buildings have a lot of room in the walls. People digging through the trash of the houses that throw them away or lurk at the windows hoping for some escape.
Today was free of those spawn campers, yet roaming through the roads was not completely safe, wandering under the stalactites occasionally dripping some eerie liquid that evaporates before reaching the ground, creating this green foggy thick atmosphere.
Shady dealers, gangsters to my left walking together as if it was not already obvious. A snippet of their conversation they were having, "The blackmarket ran out, go up if you want it that badly." The gangster looking guy looked at him in anger, shortly after was shoved by two children running with an average rat each.
To my right, besides the endless wall of the houses I was roaming across, was a little gap in between buildings. Nothing important besides the homeless person scaling the walls to reach a window on the second or third floor. I would not have looked up if he didn't just drop a piece of his stenchy fertilizers on the ground. That window he was trying to open in vain looks to have quite the amount of light coming out, though at the same time it could just be someone burning rat piss for light.
The old man ended up shoving his skinny hands in between the glass panes and used his bones as leverage to push them apart. He ended up getting stuck there in silence, knowing nobody would be as crazy to go up and help him out.
I looked down in sigh as I started counting the rats inside my bloody backpack, half-full of skinned ones, enough to feed a family thrice the size of mine. "One, two, three… this one is too small, it doesn't count." While walking across another biggest alley, I spotted a rabbit on the other side of the road. "RA-" I slapped my mouth hoping to shut my babbling, but the sound that made would have alerted the guards for sure.
"Slow, Kurk. Slow down, that slap hurts more than wax. Slow, breath." I was holding my weapon in a position ready to throw it at the target, aiming for a ratseye. I placed my left leg slightly forward, held two left fingers up, held the target between the creases, my arm with the weapon at the far back, getting ready to shoot, remembering all the times I missed.
One skill you learn by force of habit in bars, especially when your dinner is on the line, is playing darts. I had honed my throwing ability so well, losing my dinner many times in the process, to the point nobody would dare to play with me if I were not blindfolded or sometimes on the verge of passing out.
Aiming at my next big target, my teeth biting my mouth from the inside, hoping to muffle the huffing. "Click… Tssss… Tssss… Tsss…" The noise that lighter made was louder than me smashing my mouth a couple seconds ago, "Such a scam. I need a new lighter." My target lifted its head towards the sound, naturally, I turned as well to see the center of attention. A man in his 40s despite his best efforts, looking sharper than anybody of his age in Dyslone. His posture alone could cause silence in a bar. I don't know if it's his clothes or his facial expression, but the aura he emitted was stronger than a sauna mist.
Looking back at my target, it seemed quite confused as well by that man's presence by the slow rotation of its head. This stun was enough for me to make it next week's dinner. "DIE!!! UTANIAN SCUM!!!" I was so close to letting go of the shiv after a throw I was definitely missing. "Aaaaah! Somebody! Anybody!" The rich man screamed after patting his back and ass, probably searching for a weapon to defend himself, in vain.
I paused for a second, debating with the voices in my head whether I should help the man or go catch next week's course meal. "You should help the man," said the first voice. "You don't know him," said the second. "You can make him owe you." said a third. "He looks like a Utanian, screw him." replied the second. "What if he pays for dinner?" said the first. "Kill him yourself, that guy looks so weak." shouted the third. These are all thoughts I had, but with all the shouting, my dinner had already left the soon-to-be crime scene.
"You had one job" I shouted as I switched targets to save the guy from becoming someone's nutrients or compost. I threw my shiv's handle right at its wrist, making it let go of the weapon in hand, dropping in the proximity of the were-to-be victim. "Ow! What?!" That one action allowed the man to defend himself pretty aggressively, stabbing the aggressor and shoving his boot in its abdomen, pushing him away as he shouts "Filthy animal…" The skeleton looking guy started gasping for his life, while the latter didn't seem to care that much. He looked in my direction and ordered, "You there, come here."
After crossing the street, I sheathed my shiv and helped the guy up, even though he could have gotten up by himself, I felt bad not to since his hand was hanging. He looked at me in astonishment, confusion, disgust, and relief. His face showed more emotion than a newborn in Dislone. After minutes of awkward silence, he screamed in his breath "What do You want from me?" I was pretty bummed about the rabbit I could have caught, so I asked him "You got rabbit?" His answer confirmed one thing at least, he was indeed a Utanian. "What's that? Is it some sort of creature you have down here? I have chicken, or do you really crave ra… what was it again? I could order to catch one of those for you."
Having never heard of that chimken, I settled for the rabbit. We started walking back to his lair. His stance was straight, a true military aura, emitting a dangerous level of confidence, even if he's not looking your way, his breathing would strike your spine with shivers. Fear would step down its function to this guy. I wanted to ask him the reason for his adventure but suddenly, a huge crowd of people grunting and shouting all sorts of slurs started becoming more and more audible, as if we were getting close to some rally or some souk of some sort.
As we reached the back of the crowd, he put both his index and middle finger in his mouth and produced such a high pitched sound, a powerful screech that all the people still alive seemed to have recognized, all shut up, turned around at the same time, all in fear and created a path like a king's parade, only without the cheering, or without making any sound in that matter. I didn't know what they were so afraid of but we used the path they created for us, trampling over the bodies of the ones who have suffocated or crushed seeking the touch of greatness, resembling the rug popular ones walk on to enter castles.
"What is happening?" I thought of asking, looking backwards as the door closed behind me. Although it was answered by the Utanian I saved as soon as he introduced himself. "I am a renowned Tactician Arsenal, and it seems my reputation has reached you guys as well. I never thought I could start such commotion." He continued after taking a long sip of some clear transparent liquid, "The people you saw outside are all seeking to take the guard position that just opened."
My face showed a greater confusion the more he spoke. "The mines… guarding the main entrance… You have to know about them…" Those few words he said showed no sign of clarity in my face. He sighed and proceeded to explain how the system worked, "Every district is delimited by having one mine per district. They are mining this ore only found at this depth, also known as Burrium."
The more he uttered his monologue the more I was getting a sense of where it was going. Yet, I lifted a finger to ask a question, but my belly started gurgling. He turned around and ordered "Alex, go get the man the creature he desires. Take Barry with you. The people here are crazier than I expected"
"Well, actually-" That thin nerd with an arched back behind some sort of briefcase with light on the inside was Alex. He had some sort of headband on his head women usually use to hold their hair tight, only this one had some sort of cleaner and furrier rat ears. "Is that even a man? His hair is not even that long." This big guy on the other hand, I can only assume to be Barry, without a doubt, was a true bodyguard. He barely fit under the roof of the room we were in. His muscles could fit a person each. Him moving towards the main door caused it to go dark as his head hid the ceiling light.
The general stared very intensely at Alex as they were both leaving. I tapped Arsenal on the shoulder to ask him more about everything that weighed on my pea brain. "Why was he roaming around the streets of District B?" "What is that position he was talking about?" "Why is a briefcase emitting light?" "What was the ore used for?" "What's a chimken?"