The odor of decomposing organic junk, combined with the metal of heavy ones and blood, boosts each single guy in here.
The ramshackle houses were connected together like a solid housing ecosystem. But it was ironic that they were all built with whatever they thought could withstand the night sandstorms.
At least there are a few of them that seem better than others. The first one belongs to Jim Zecker, the only doctor-pharmacist in this shabby place. And the only place where order exists is not where any scavengers can go, except on the days when Mr. Zecker opens a little tent to help the filthy creatures out there.
But not today. The first is that there is no tent, and the second is that they need something to refill their stomachs.
The crowd runs through Mr. Zecker, who is in a worn blouse and waving to them with a bright reptilian smile. And the only one holding back, waving back to him—an ordinary human.
"White, let's go. No mission means no food today."
Grabbing that extra hand and pulling it back into the crowd, the emaciated boy seemed to be about to run out of steam in this race.
"Chill out, Rust."-The dirty one keep smiling and back to the race of species to their daily missions. - "I don't require that to survive. You know, I have karma at the level of a legendary Hero."
"But you cannot use any of it unless every time you almost starve to death, idiot."- A hard slap to the back of the head sent White almost tumbling. - "Fuck it. Why I wish I could use 1% your karma."
"Hey, hey, chill out, bro. Anyway, we made it on time."
The slap made him roll and fall in front of the real house, left in this giant landfill. Even though his legs were a little wobbly after rolling, he managed to stand up and lean one hand on Rust's shoulder.
"Oh, two losers of humanity. Let's see what you can bring me today."
Each step made his belly fat shake in waves. The distinctive stench of pigs combined with the sudden dizziness made him want to throw up everything in his stomach. However, his stomach was empty. So this retching was no different from provoking these stinking Orcs.
Exchanging glances and expressions with that group and the other beast-men that are approaching, Rust mentally clicks his tongue and immediately bows and apologizes. His arm also brings White's head down at the prospect of being whipped again, like the previous times.
"It seems that humans are creatures that could be more intelligent through pain, huh?"
Snickers of the pig leader and other coming up gangs meet the boy's eyes.
"You're right, Mister Pago. I will give you our mission this time, but"-Rust struggles to keep two heads down. But the empty stomach and zero karma are something that he can hold up the ego of White.
"Long time no see, Pago. Still like to act, pretending to be a knowledgeable scoundrel with stupid philosophical sentences? Eating more garbage doesn't make a fat pig smarter than a hero or a savior."
And of course. White wasn't wrong. His mistake was not being strong enough to run or take a hit on his face.
Without a human blink, the distinctive smell of pigs and muddy hands immediately takes his breath away.
Pago lifts White like a giant angry baby crushing an over-dated doll.
White immediately tries to escape. His four limbs attack the giant hand; however, nothing more than scratching the itch for him
"What a dirty mouth, White Turner. But seems like it is your only weapon, right?"
Redness covering gradually the teenager's face and eyes, combining tremor of another there, put a satisfied smile on that hairy boar face.
"Do whatever you can, pighead. Once my real power…"
"Right, right, your real power…"
The hairy piggy baby throws White like a boring toy, which was covered by dust and bleeding scratches.
After an echoing snort, Pago keeps his voice louder and louder.
"Let's see. Everyone in this Dump Arena has known you for about 2 years, White. And what can you and your fragile friend do? You are human, the species only strong with the ability to superior karma control and ridiculously powerful Authority."-Each word flows, the hooves reach forward, the young boys kneeling there.
"White Turner, infinite karma, but you cannot actively use it."-The kick flew out with a satisfied smile, causing the mouthful of blood that had not yet flowed out to be immediately swallowed back. - "And until now, you do not know what Authority is. How pathetic. And you did say what? A savior. White-Just because you have a name doesn't mean you can be a savior."
"And you, Rust. Our daydreamer hero."-Pago stomped on Rust. The weight and pain left him unable to fight back. But he had never been able to fight back. - "Remember, from the moment you opened your eyes, you were already in this dump. Your adoptive father was here and died here, too. What's the point of copying that Authority when your energy source isn't even enough to support yourself? Even you have to steal our missions day by day."
That's right. That's also the reason why the two of them are still stuck in this corner. Rust understands that very well.
If they could really do something, White and Rust wouldn't be in this corner with those stinking beastmen and doing things like digging through trash every day. Just to avoid starving to death the next day.
Rust had actually intended to give up on his dreams of becoming a Hero from that day. However, the appearance of that reckless individual who emerged out of nowhere kept the spark of hope for the future alive.
Rust does not know how, but White Turner has something pulling him over every time.
"You're right, Pago. Every day, we have to steal missions from you, beastmen. Maybe not having a good mission really makes it difficult to get around in this garbage dump."
But White wasn't wrong once. [Hero or whatever never settles down.]
"White. If we don't get a good mission today, we'll starve to death."
"Got it."
The energy burst out from Rust. The flow from the surroundings that only he could see through his body. Running into every vein, muscle, and breath.
That was karma. The power that was born perhaps to allow humans in this world to confront other creatures. It was almost a source of immense energy that came from the invisible flow inherent in the body itself to the world. Those flows could be seen only by the owner himself or through the Energy Measuring Device.
Like Rust, he had only one flow, too few compared to the normal humans who would have 10 or more flows, or even other species may have 10 or, like the Winged Angels, have more than 100 flows, which allow them to impact the world orders, fortunately. Activating the flow was like drinking water from a living being. To continue using it, he had to wait for the water from that endless source to flow back. And it wouldn't be that fast. This time, Rust used all his karma, and this time, his one jump completely knocked the giant pig Pago away.
[The quest portal will open in 1 minute. Requesting the taskers to line up at the counter to receive their tasks--The sound of the machine broke the shock of Rust's actions.
In this place where dogs eat stones and chickens eat gravel, nothing is more important than food, and the same goes for management skills. Instead of lining up, it would be jostling and grabbing everything possible.
The eyes that were everywhere also recognized the small human figure running straight to the counter. Fangs, claws, wings, tails, and everything else were swung out to catch up with the footsteps of that human. But Pago did not allow that.
Before Pago could struggle, Rust immediately dragged his large pig body along the legs and threw it straight into the oncoming crowd.
"Fuck you, Rust." The counter door immediately opened gradually, White and Rust gradually stretched their legs to the counter to take everything they could. But the crowd in the sky was not something that humans could handle. The Birdmen flew down with Pago shouting, "kill them," lying on top of many other beastmen.
The claws flew back and forth with the wind, trying to catch them, but luckily, both of them were able to dodge.
However, White was probably still too normal. To be more precise, he did not know how to strengthen Rust's body. He was immediately grabbed by a pair of legs. The claws squeezed his body so tightly that White thought his ribs were broken.
Blood spurted out from the corner of Rust's face.
But luckily, it was not from White.
The small, still warm blade came from the hand of the doctor in the white coat.
He supported White with his other hand and pointed the surgical knife at the Birdman, who had lost his leg from that slash.