Back when Freddy was sixteen, while still working in the warehouse, he mostly kept to himself. Stack boxes, sort items, take inventory. Stack boxes, sort items, take inventory.

Stack boxes.

Sort items.

Take inventory.

Day in. Day out. Over and over again.

But in hindsight, if he had to choose between working as a cashier or manning the warehouse, he’d pick the latter nine out of ten times. Why nine out of ten?

Because there was one huge downside to working in the warehouse.

All it takes is one shitty coworker, and your life becomes absolute hell.

“Hey fucker, how about you move out of the way?” a gruff voice came from behind Freddy, and he jolted, rapidly turning around and shrinking in on himself.

“Sorry, I—”

“I said fuck off!” the man repeated himself as he pushed Freddy out of the way and put his box down.

The man was tall and burly, shaven bald, with a nose piercing and tattoos just barely showing under his shirt. His tongue was sharp, and his attitude was nasty.

As Freddy watched him walk away, his lips twisted and he spat to the side. “Asshole.”

Around a week ago, this man had started working the same shift as Freddy. And every day since, his treatment of the others became worse and worse. Especially towards Freddy.

It was as if every encounter with Freddy was just another moment to make the teenager’s day even worse.

He’d push him, trip him up, pinch him, punch his arm, smack him on the back of the head, flick his forehead, pull his nose, and worst of all, he’d poke him in the side. Out of everything, Freddy hated the pokes the most. Because no matter how hard he tried, he’d always have a strong reflex reaction. Then he’d either drop what he was carrying or plainly look like a pushover.

On his part, Freddy had never done anything to get on the man’s bad side. He even naively tried helping the man in hopes of getting better treatment. When that did jack shit, he tried reporting the man to management, but nobody gave a single flying fuck about such menial bullying.

For months, this treatment continued, only getting worse with time.

Until one day, the man failed to show up to work. Then he missed another day. And another.

While he didn’t dare raise his hopes up, Freddy was praying that the man had finally quit or been fired.

But little did he know—

On the fourth day, as soon as he pulled up to work, he walked past two coworkers gossiping.

That was the moment he learned that they had found the man dead, beaten purple with every bone in his body broken.

He remembered how he felt at that moment. Freezing in place like his entire world had crawled to a halt. He didn’t dare admit it to himself. He didn’t want to be that kind of person.

But he couldn’t stop the smirk from crawling up his face.

Serves him right.

Many years later, Freddy was sitting with his legs crossed around a hundred meters away from the clinic, smoking a cigarette and waiting. It was early morning, dawn was already licking across the horizon and the sky was clear. He hadn’t slept that night.

“Master,” Bloodshed finally called. “I have found the doctor,” it said, referring to the man who had both been the lead doctor during Sophia’s operation and the man who worked the organ harvesting facility.

Freddy’s eyes squinted. “Good. Keep track of where he is and tell me when his shift ends.”

It really wasn’t all that long ago that Freddy had become an archhuman. But thoughts of his life before felt distant and pale, almost like it had happened a lifetime ago.

As for the man who used to bully him, Freddy didn’t even remember his name anymore.

Back then, he had done his absolute best to force down the glee that bubbled up when he learned of the man’s death. Yet, now, he knew himself well enough—had he somehow acquired the power to make that man disappear, he would have been the one guilty of the man’s death.

“Master,” Bloodshed called. “The doctor’s shift is over. A number of staff members have gathered to be transported together in a heavily guarded vehicle.”

Freddy clicked his tongue. “Shit… Never mind, just follow them.” He flicked the cigarette to the ground and stomped on it. “Let’s see where they’re headed first.”

But he had changed since then. He wasn’t a better person or more forgiving, not in the slightest. Yet, if he knew what he knew today, he would never lay a finger on that man, even if he had the power to do so?

Why?

He walked forward, slowly tracking the bus transporting the clinic staff. They didn’t go far. Within minutes, the bus pulled over into a walled-off compound that looked more like a prison than living quarters. He tracked down an abandoned building nearby and hid inside, waiting for Bloodshed to determine the exact apartment where the doctor lived.

He pulled out another cigarette and lit it, taking a deep puff of smoke as he sat against the wall.

Why wouldn’t he kill that man now when he would have done so six years ago?

It was simple—if he had that kind of power, he could earn a lot of money. And it wouldn’t take much to turn the man from a bully to a dog groveling before him and begging for scraps.

Personal power could go far.

But nothing could beat the power of money.

Violence was clearly not working for him. So it was time to take a different approach.

“Master, the doctor is alone in his living space. What do I do now?”

“Let’s wait a bit, first,” he said. “Keep an eye on him.”

Bloodshed kept him updated about the doctor’s actions. The man slowly unwound after work, and about an hour later, he was sprawled out on his couch in his pajamas, turning on his BC as he appeared to slowly drift into sleep.

Freddy snorted. No sleep for the wicked, bucko. It’s time to wake up.

“Bloodshed. You’re going to appear before the doctor. I will tell you what to say.”

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“Understood.”

The doctor snickered at something he saw on the BC and scratched his ass. His joy didn’t last long as, suddenly, a waist-tall bloody skeleton appeared in the corner of his vision. The man froze for a moment, and then, his flight response kicked in. “Holy shit!” he shouted as he leaped out of his couch and ran for the door.

But Bloodshed was faster, cutting him off and raising its claws threateningly. “Move and you’re dead.”

The doctor froze, shivering in place.

“Scream, and you’re dead. Try to ask for help in any way, and you’re dead. Understood? You’re allowed to nod.”

The doctor nodded, his pajama pants turning wet around his crotch.

“Good,” Bloodshed—or rather, Freddy talking through it—said. “You can call me Skull. You don’t have to be afraid. I am not here to harm you. I am here to give you a business offer.”

The doctor’s mouth shivered as he struggled to open it. “Wh… Wha-what do you want fro-from me?”

“Those organs you and you people were harvesting—tell me where you sold them.”

The man’s eyes flashed. “I… I can’t tell you that! I’m go-going to g-get killed!”

“You’re going to die if you don’t tell me.”

“I… Wait, please! We used most of them for our business!”

“I know the size of the business you were running. There is no way you’ve used all the goods locally. You sold the rest to a third party, correct?”

The doctor's throat seized, and he choked on his words. “I… Yes… But I’m serious when I say I can’t tell you!” The doctor looked around nervously. “I-I-I-I d-don’t know who you are, b-but you’re playing with your life! Take y-your pet spirit and leave!”

Bloodshed raised both hands. “Ten…” It slowly closed one finger. “Nine…”

“Wait! Oh, damn it all! Y-you’re a fool!” The doctor pulled his hair, eyes bloodshot and mouth flapping.

“Eight… Seven…”

“Six…”

“Five…

“Four…”

The doctor groaned.

“Three…”

“Two…”

“It’s the adjudicator!” he finally shouted. “The local adjudicator! We sold the organs to him! Do you now understand!? I-if anyone learns I told you this, we’re both dead!”

“Interesting. Can you step into contact with him?”

“What!? You’re out of your mind! He would kill me if I did so for frivolous reasons!”

“So you can.”

“Argh! You are missing the point!”

“No, doctor, you are missing the point.” Bloodshed took a step forward. “Either you cooperate, or you die. You have no right to argue.”

The doctor squealed and took a reluctant step back.

“Now, you are going to teach me how to harvest organs.”

“This is a waste of time! You are—” the doctor’s voice caught in his throat as a small tuft of his hair suddenly fell off his head and right before his eyes. All he saw was a brief, red flash. He whimpered. “I… Shit…”

For the next few hours, the doctor compiled all the necessary information for how to safely and efficiently harvest organs, how to store them, and how to transport them.

Then, Bloodshed detailed a certain location close to where the doctor lived and told him to go there.

“Remember,” Bloodshed whispered. “I’ll be watching you.” Then it vanished into the Netherecho.

Upon seeing this, the doctor nearly dropped the papers he was holding. “Wha… It vanished…? It isn’t a bound spirit…? Dear god… What did I get myself into?”

He obeyed and took the papers outside, walking for a few minutes. Then, he cautiously left them behind a dumpster and looked around. “Here you go…” he said nervously. “I brought you the papers.”

Bloodshed suddenly appeared behind him. “Good.”

The doctor jumped, turning around and grasping his chest.

Bloodshed’s grin appeared to widen slightly. “I will be watching you, Doctor. I will be there when you work. I will be there when you’re resting. I will watch you when you sleep. Try telling anyone about this, and I will know. And I will kill you. You will receive your next order soon. For now, take a moment to relax. You deserve a good night of sleep.” With a devilish cackle, Bloodshed vanished into the Netherecho, leaving the doctor alone.

Looking pale and tired, the doctor turned around and walked back home.

A few minutes later, Freddy appeared beside the dumpster, grabbing the folder and wiping some of the dirt off it. “Time to get to work.”

While he tasked Bloodshed with keeping an eye on the doctor, he went off and gathered everything he needed. He could safely skip most of the safety-related stuff, but he couldn’t do without the proper storage equipment.

Then, after a day of reading through the instructions, he got to work. Obviously, that wasn’t enough time to learn all the details of how to do it properly, but again, he hardly needed to be delicate. The most important information was the exact value of the specific organs and the proper way to store them.

As for the value of his organs, he was a goddamn treasure trove. Not to mention the fact that he was as healthy as was humanly possible or the fact that he was a peak two-star, but he was also undead. The price of undead organs was several times higher.

Then it was just a matter of getting them out.

He prepared a part of his room and finally got to work. Although he was already well accustomed to dealing with pain, there was something particularly horrible about taking his own organs out. Peeling his skin off was especially agonizing.

That being said, it was actually rather easy. His internal toughness did make the process rather slow, but surgical scalpels could still cut through with enough persistence. On top of that, he had near-total control over the flow of his blood, allowing him to make the process cleaner and more efficient than usual.

He took out his heart, liver, lungs, kidneys, and a large patch of his skin. His heart was a rather problematic piece because he had to empty it of all the blood first. Thankfully, he had accounted for this and prepared a large container where he could easily suck the blood right back up later.

Once done, he properly stored it all and got to work healing it all back.

Recovery took a long time. Missing tissue, especially delicate organ tissue, was bloody expensive to grow back to perfection. It took him a whole day of work. The process was also notably expensive in regard to essence consumption, primarily due to having to move his blood around so much.

He knew for a fact that this could be done a lot faster and more efficiently, but with his current method, this was the best he could do.

“Well then…” he said, stashing the container in his storage ring. “Time to go.”

Freddy left the container hidden in the corner of an abandoned building and then instructed Bloodshed to take the doctor there.

The man finally saw the containers and sighed. He walked over and carefully opened them, remaining cautious not to contaminate the goods. As soon as he saw the organs, his eyes shot wide open. The man cautiously examined them, and with every new detail he spotted, he gasped and reeled in shock. “Jesus…” he muttered.

Bloodshed stood by his side, its grin plastered over its bare skull. “Do you think the adjudicator will be interested?”

“Do I think…?” The doctor chuckled. “I do not know who you killed for this, but this is incredible. I have never seen organs like these in my life.”

“All you have to do now is sell them,” Bloodshed said. “There is a small recording device in the box to your left. You will use it to record your entire interaction with the adjudicator to ensure there is no funny business.”

The man gritted his teeth. “What if the adjudicator notices it!?”

“This is a very stealthy recording device, but there is still a risk that it will be spotted. If that happens, you will likely be killed.”

Despair crawled into the doctor’s eyes.

“But I am not going to be ruthless. For your part, I will give you 10% of the sale.”

The doctor suddenly perked up. That was a lot of money. But it clearly didn’t seem like it was satisfactory for the risk involved.

But Bloodshed wasn’t done. “This, by the way, isn’t the last trade we are going to be making.” Its grin widened. “There are plenty of organs left where these came from.”

The doctor’s eyes shot wide open. “Are they… of the same quality?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly, the despairing look started to vanish. As numbers flashed before the doctor’s eyes, his unwilling scowl slowly morphed into an expression of excited, expectant joy.

On the other side of this interaction, hidden a few buildings away, Freddy leaned his head against the wall, his heart thundering in his chest.

This was a massive risk. He would take every precaution imaginable to prevent himself from being discovered. But the danger was still there.

The adjudicator would likely be very satisfied with one batch and probably wouldn’t try to track down the doctor’s supply. Once a second batch of such organs appeared, all bets were off.

Thankfully, with Bloodshed’s help, Freddy could easily hide the organs in unique locations and then inform the doctor of where they were later. This would minimize the risk of a stake-out. He would also deliver the organs in irregular intervals.

That being said, he wasn’t going into this without a long-term plan. For the time being, the adjudicator was someone Freddy definitely couldn’t handle in a fight. But Freddy wasn’t gathering this money without a purpose.

He would earn quite a bit through this method.

Enough to tackle the Century of Solitude.