In an inconspicuous motel room, everything seemed unchanging, as if even the ending of the world would not have any impact on the monotonous atmosphere that it possessed. A small amount of light began filtering through the open window, and the chilly morning air signaled the slow start to the day.
The digital clock radiated an ominous glow, suffusing the dusty air with a garish crimson color. The seconds on display gently ticked away, creating a scene that seemed like it would never change.
But when the red numbers showed six o'clock, a loud thud resounded in the room. A pile of raw meat suddenly collapsed from midair onto the floor, causing the whole building to shake violently as if it might collapse in the very next moment.
"Ugh!"
A groan came from beneath the mountain of meat, and slowly a figure emerged, gasping for air as it tried to escape the massive weight trapping it.
With great difficulty, Ace managed to pull himself out, his face contorting with disgust at the slick sensation all over his body. He began to retch, feeling as if his stomach would finally be free of the meat he'd gorged on yesterday, which he still hadn't managed to digest.
Determined not to waste even an ounce of the wolf meat, Ace clenched his abdominal muscles and quickly headed for the bathroom. He took his black jeans, covered in spots of brown and green and slick with meat juices, and stuffed them into the washing machine before jumping into the shower.
Unlike other times, he had no time to enjoy the warm water that usually felt like the caress of a long-lost lover. He rinsed himself of all the grime and sweat he'd accumulated and left the shower in record time.
He put on another set of black hoodie, T-shirt, and jeans, and without even drying his hair, went back to the bedroom. His breath was taken away once his eyes caught sight of the mountain of meat. His previous disgust was now replaced by a look of reverence, as he realized the power the meat could gift to him.
He didn't know how he'd managed it, but he had placed an entire two thousand pounds of meat on his shoulders. he meticulously placed piece after piece on his back, and eventually, the pile of meat had reached such heights. He had felt like he was about to die, but he managed to stand for an entire ten breaths before the countdown elapsed. His legs had given out as soon as he caught a whiff of his moldy motel room, and he believed himself lucky that his neck hadn't snapped under all that weight.
Thinking of the magical power of this meat, one question took hold of his mind: if he could eat this entire pile of meat, how strong would he become?
A shiver traveled down his spine, and he didn't dare imagine it further. His reverie was broken by the morning sun as it finally managed to disperse the clouds and began casting rays of sunlight into his room.
Seeing the sun begin to bake the meat, Ace panicked and realized he had no way to preserve it. He ran to a counter in a corner of his room and vaulted over it, landing with a thud behind. He dropped into a squat and yanked open a small fridge about the size of a large box. He grabbed all the various vegetables and meats inside and shoved them onto the floor.
He then sprinted towards the pile of meat being pelted by sunlight and grabbed a huge chunk, just large enough to fit into the fridge. He stuffed the fridge as hard as he could, but when he tried to close it, the door wouldn't shut all the way. He looked around the room, picked up a pair of rusted dumbbells that he had stolen from a scrapyard, and pressed them hard against the door.
Eventually, the forty-pound dumbbells managed to overpower the tightly packed meat, and Ace sighed in relief. But when he looked at the small dent he'd made in the mountain of meat, his heart began to bleed, imagining all the gains he was leaving on the table.
He closed the curtains to stifle the sunlight and went to his laptop to search for a cheap way to conserve the meat. A quick search told him that besides adding a lot of salt, there was nothing he could do on such short notice. But he didn't know how the meat would react to salt and didn't dare risk ruining it. He knew he needed a large freezer.
Ace pursed his lips, thinking of his empty pockets. He was out of cash after buying the gun and needed a way to get more, quickly. He looked up how long raw meat lasted without refrigeration and knew he didn't have long. Luckily, it was early spring, and his region was pretty cold, giving him some respite.
His mind instantly went to Norman, thinking that he'd probably know a way. But he didn't even know if Norman was alive, and if he was, would he want to help? He looked at the time and realized it was Monday, and school would start in less than an hour, so he decided to go and see if Norman would show up.
Just before leaving, he grabbed a handful of wolf meat and placed it in a plastic bag. Outside, he began a light jog towards his school. After a few hundred feet, he decided to test his improved stamina and legs, wanting to see how much his body had improved after having digested the wolf meat for over twelve hours.
He began to sprint, soon feeling the wind howling in his ears like he'd opened the window in a moving car. He didn't know how fast he was moving, but he knew the distance between his motel and the school was five miles. He figured he would run as fast as he could and then check the time to calculate his average speed.
Gold Dragon City was one of the few second-tier cities in the country, large and wealthy enough to be compared with the Big Ten. Although not quite on the same level, it wasn't far off, and the city followed some of the same rules as the ten first-tier cities.
One of these self-imposed rules was that school had to start at seven in the morning, non-negotiable. If a school, whether private or public, wished to keep its doors open in the first-tier cities, it needed to accommodate in this aspect. Experts believed that if children woke up early and finished school early, they would have more time to socialize in the afternoon, increasing their odds of growing up healthy, making their chances of becoming social recluses lower.
Gold Dragon City, aspiring to climb to first-tier status, followed this rule as well.
A man in his forties was driving his daughter to school, preoccupied with today's plan at his job, when his daughter interrupted him, making him frown. Despite being annoyed, he still indulged his daughter's random questions and gave a patient and kind smile.
"Daddy, if a man is running as fast as our car in a thirty-mile zone, does that mean he is running at thirty miles an hour?"
The dad rolled his eyes but began thinking of how to answer, knowing it was in his daughter's best interest to foster her curiosity.
"Well, yes, but there is no human alive that can run that fast. So—"
"Really?" the little girl interrupted, frowning. She then pointed out the window, "Then why is that man running just as fast as we are?"
The man sighed, amused, and momentarily took his eyes off the road, "Baby, there is no way—cough!"
The man spilled his coffee and nearly dropped the cup in his lap. His eyes widened in shock when he saw a young man, not older than eighteen, running side by side with his car, even seemingly going faster at times.
The young man was running on the side lane, acting like he was another member of the traffic, signaling with his hands at times to switch lanes and overtake other cars.
At some point, he reached his own car and signaled that he wished to overtake, but the man was too shocked to move aside. The signaling hand became increasingly animated at his lack of response, and the man's subconscious took control of his catatonic mind and moved his car to the side.
When the young man reached his car's window, he waved for the man to lower it. The man complied, and a loud voice boomed, making him tremble with fright.
"Oi! If you're going to cosplay as a snail in a fifty-mile zone, move to the second lane!"