“Hey, Juma!”
“What’s up, Miki?”
“Yo! It’s the Juju-Man himself! Juma!”
“How’ve you been Rico?”
Juma was popular. As we walked further, nearly everyone we passed greeted, waved or invited him to sit over with them. Both people from the Lance Brigade and people from other Brigades. Cadets – the rank above recruit we would get upon completing our First Mission – were especially fond of Juma for some reason. The boy would salute them of course, as order dictated, but anyone could see he was doing it more or less out of a formality than as a requirement.
“What’ll ye have?”
The man at the serving station had a rough, gruff voice that almost reminded me of Wunder. With a scar of his right eye, he pointed to varying foods and cuisine that I’d never seen or heard of before. Thankfully, Neo had, and I searched his memory for help in identification.
“Mr. Hasid, you’re looking better today.”
The scarred man’s face softened as his gaze landed on Juma. “Ah! Juma me boy. It’s all thanks to you. That herbal incense recipe ye gave me worked miracles on me sinuses. Cleared me cold straight right out.”
Juma laughed, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. “It’s nothing at all.”
Hasid shook his head. “Oh come off it. Yer a real helper me boy. Heard from that yer singlehandedly gathered the red bear meat we needed for me Pumpkin Ursa Stew.”
“I just happened to be in the area – and thought it might be of help.”
“Bah, again with the modesty!” Hasid said, laughing. “Just for that, ye can pick any meal ye want. On the house –”
“Oh, no, I really couldn’t.”
“Come on me boy! I insist!”
The back and forth exchange continued until Juma finally acquiesced, leaving me watching the exchange with curiosity. I knew what faux modesty looked like, and faking humility for the benefit of others was something I had extensive knowledge in because of my father. Juma, however, didn’t have any of the tells of signs of someone who knew well how to play the humble act.
“What’ll you have, Neo?”
I glanced over the options. “Whatever you’re having.”
“So that’s double on the sugarcane milkshake and beancake combo.”
Someone has a sweet tooth.
“Oh, and a small side-dish of your Twelve Game Soup for my friend here.”
I rose my brow a bit. Juma grinned at me. “You’ve never tried Mr. Hasid’s Twelve Game Soup have you?”
I checked Neo’s memories. “…No.”
“Twelve different kinds of meat, cooked separately until each one has a near equivalent texture, then, everything is stewed with pumpkin leaves, devil peppers, carrots, onions, garlic and – well, you’ll see for yourself.”
Once the meals came on the trays, I ignored everything except for the soup filled with juicy, delicious meat. I could almost feel myself drool at the sight, and reigned in my impulses. We took a seat at a bench near a rotating blue orb. The tiniest blast of cold breeze washed over me before my [Ice Damage Immunity] disregarded it. I checked Neo’s memory for the name of the object and discovered to my surprise that even the boy didn’t know what it was.
“What’s that?”
Juma took his seat opposite me, turning to stare at the blue orb. “Heard it’s a new item the Eminency of Progress is mass-producing. Environment Chilly Orbs they call it. ECOs for short.”
“Why not just call it air conditioners?”
Juma tilted his brow. “Air conditioner? How do you condition the air?”
“By making it colder?”
“Sounds complicated. ECOs, go straight to the point. They’re orbs that make the environment chilly. Anyone can understand that without a roundabout explanation.”
That was probably the first time in my life I’d heard someone say that air conditioners sounded complicated. I snorted at it, before grabbing the utensils – a spoon, thankfully – and digging directly into the Twelve Game Soup.
It was with delectable pleasure that the sauce entered my mouth. The sensations I’d long since forgotten came back rushing to me. Spiciness. Umami. Thick, rich flavors of fruits and herbs and something cooked in a bowl by someone who knew what they were doing.
I never thought I’d be able to eat real food again.
I’d argue, certainly, that meat tasted much better when it was cooked and spiced. Ghilan instincts be damned.
“Tastes good rig – whoa. Are… are you… crying?”
“No – it’s – just, I got pepper in my eye…”
“Must be the devil peppers.”
“That’s right. The devil peppers.”
We ate in silence after that. It was my first time eating real food since I came to Alamir. Not eating my way out of a snake, or ants or live rabbits. Not eating crudely roasted rabbits as a skeleton but being unable to taste or feel anything. Not eating a person, because a Ghilan required sustenance in the form of human prey. This was the first true meal I ever had –
And strangely enough, I ate it, in relative silence and company of a strange boy called Juma.
You have eaten the meat of a [Unique] Animal.
You have fed.
You will need to feed again in [9] Days.
Title [Gorger] has come into effect.
Oh?
Info: [Flesh Famished]
Details: As a member of the [Ghilan] species, you require sustenance in the form of the flesh and meat of human and/or demi-human creatures to effectively function. Going an extended number of days without doing so will grant you this negative status. Animal meat can only be used as a substitute if the animal is [Mythical], [Legendary] or [Unique] in classification. Nightmare meat may be used as a substitute, only if the Nightmare is of a higher Tier.
That was right. I didn’t need to eat people. I could eat animals – though they had to be [Mythical], [Legendary] or [Unique]. I doubted I could find the first two and couldn’t even imagine trying to eat something like a phoenix, but the last
