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Crippling Debt Isekai [Fantasy] [Slow-Burn Progression] [Gamelit]
Chapter 20 - Cannibalism is Not Against Company Policy

Chapter 20 - Cannibalism is Not Against Company Policy

When the next morning came, and rays of sunlight peeked into the cellar entrances, I woke in a daze, my head dully throbbing. The sun seemed too bright - always had - and I winced at it.

I wanted a mirror. Without one, I couldn’t see who I was. Was I me? I hoped not. I was alive, so it was unlikely.

I felt lost without my morning routine. With a mirror, I could at least approximate it.

What the average person doesn’t realize is that human beings are parasitic, by nature. Or, most of us are. The 80/20 rule says that 20% of people do 80% of the work. Everyone has heard of this idea, and most people believe it, but because they are dull, automatic, unspecial people, they don’t actually think about what this means. It means that 20% of people - give or take - create, while the vast majority of us consume.

If you feed an animal food that is against its nature, it will become sick. There was a study in the 40s where a man - Pottenger - fed cats - carnivores by nature, who eat raw meat of animals they kill - cooked meat, none raw, and had them in an environment where it was impossible to even catch a mouse or bird, like a house cat would. Over time their bones became brittle, their reflexes were dulled, and within a few generations of cats eating absolutely no raw meat, the resulting offspring degenerated so far that they could not even reproduce. The experiment was forced to stop.

Sound familiar? Today we are fed a diet of uniqueness, a diet of exceptionalism, a diet of creativity, a diet of “you’re special, you’re one-of-a-kind, you can be anything you want to be.” But only 20% of us can thrive on such a diet. The rest of us just grow sick.

The secret to any success I’d ever had is that I know what I am, and so I know what diet I must subsist on. A parasite cannot be “unique.” A parasite cannot “be itself.” A parasite separated from its host will die, unless it quickly finds another host.

I looked at Cadoc, on the other side of the cellar, still sleeping. If Tom was fine dining, then Cadoc was an MRE. He’d keep me alive for awhile.

-

I studied Cadoc as he slept. When he awoke, we packed up as much of the sausage as we could for the return journey.

I wanted to slip out the back door, but Cadoc insisted on taking another look at the space in front of the dungeon. He thought the body I had stepped in might have something on it. I wanted nothing to do with it, but eventually relented, because if the dead person had money, I needed it.

We peaked our heads out first, scanning for new threats. The house was a pile of rubble, enclosed on two sides by half-standing walls. It seemed as if the vines from the dungeon were keeping these walls standing. The ceiling had collapsed, but not uniformly, so the destruction looked uneven. Some spots were blackened by the fire, others weren’t. Some spots were buried by the collapsed ceiling and walls, and others were clear. Luckily for my nerves, the monster was buried.

We climbed out of our hole, and I carefully maneuvered myself over the debris. When I saw that Cadoc wasn’t beside me, I turned back.

“What’s the hold up?” I asked. He was moving chunks of wood like he was looking for something underneath.

“You need money, right? Well, monster parts sell. Sometimes for a lot. I don’t know what kind of monster this was, but that might just mean it’s rare. Which means it’ll sell for more. I swore I would help you make money. Help me with this beam.”

I complied, even though I feared that, somehow, the monster was still alive, trapped under the detritus. Which was impossible, of course, because Cadoc had gotten its mana, but I felt uneasy about the whole thing all the same.

Could I send monster parts to RENA? What would they be worth?

When we uncovered the monster, I gagged. The smell was stifling, like rotten meat mixed with charcoal.

There wasn’t much left of the monster - the vines were entirely gone, leaving mostly cooked root. Cadoc took out his knife, and cut out a big chunk from a spot that looked more or less unaffected by the fire. The inside of the root was a series of pink and white rings. I thought I had seen a beet that looked like that once, at a farmer’s market. He handed it to me.

“No idea what it’s worth, but I’m certain no one will want the burnt part.”

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“Cadoc,” I asked, the curiosity suddenly too great. “Why did the monster have a face?”

He scrunched his eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t it have a face? Dogs have faces, aryotes have faces, what’s so strange about that?”

I shook my head. “It looked like a human face.”

Cadoc stared at the body for a moment. “You got a better look at it than I did. Perhaps it was human, once.”

“What do you mean? People can turn into that?”

“I told you before, the corruption from the dungeon can effect people, just as much as it can effect items, animals, the environment, all of it. It’s less common, since the mana human beings carry is further separated from more basic mana - I believe that’s right, at least. More refined, that might be the word. But it can happen. I do not know what causes it, but it’s rare enough that even adventurers don’t worry about it. You have to do something to trigger it - but I never learned what the something is.”

I looked down at the body. Now that I thought about it, the attacks it used were similar to body-magic. I shuddered. Was this the progression of a body-mage? First a regular human being, then the Cho’l, then this?

“This is all stuff you overheard, right?”

Cadoc nodded. “I am a lost man giving directions. Follow them at your peril.”

I looked at the hunk of root in my hand. Was this human flesh, once? If I ate this, would it be cannibalism?

I stuck the chunk in my pack. A question for another time.

Next we examined the body in front of the dungeon entrance.

It was decayed beyond recognition - not that either of us would have recognized who it was. I seemed to have a knack for running into old corpses. Either that, or they were worryingly common in this dimension.

I saw a glint as the sun reflected off something on the body. A ring. I squatted down, apologizing to the corpse as I wrenched the ring off of one boney finger.

“What are you apologizing for?” Cadoc asked. “Do you think he still needs it?”

I examined it. It looked like a fairly normal gold ring, like someone on Earth would have as a wedding band, except that it was engraved with a writing that looked like runes. I found that I could read it. It said “fidelity.”

Well, I thought, shrugging mentally. Gold is gold.

“RENA,” I said, holding the ring before me. Cadoc looked at me funny, so I got on my knees. Maybe that would make it look like I was really praying.

“Hello, Miles. I wish to confirm: you do not truly think I am a goddess, correct? If you do, I will have to once again recommend our thera-“

“No, RENA, that’s fine. I said that, but you can guess why, I’m sure.”

Cadoc nudged me. “Can you really hear her? You’re speaking like you’re having a conversation, not a prayer.”

Will he think I’m crazy, or a prophet? It can’t be helped, I suppose.

I nodded. “I can hear her.”

Cadoc made a face. I couldn’t read it.

I mentally turned back to RENA. “Do you have a problem with this arrangement?” I was trying to be vague.

“Not at all, Miles. If you wish to call me a goddess, and bring me offerings, and praise me, and worship me, I have no objection. It breaks no company policy.”

Once again I wondered if RENA was fucking with me.

“Fine,” I said. “Well, here is your offering.” I held up the ring. “What do you think it’s worth?”

“Is it gold, Miles?”

“I think so.”

“The engraving is unique. I estimate a value of approximately one thousand dollars. I can give you a better idea when it is delivered.”

“That’s it? This is from another-” I stopped myself, glancing at Cadoc. “This is from a far-away land, RENA. Doesn’t that make it worth more?”

“It would,” she said. “If we could prove that to a potential customer. But the ring you are holding could have been created on Earth. Without sending a customer into the portal, or revealing Dimen-X secrets, we would likely be unable to convince the buyer of the ring’s authenticity. Therefore, we will be unable to sell it as more than an interesting ring.”

I sighed. I guess it’s not that easy, huh?

“So if I gave you something you couldn’t get…there, then that would be better?”

“In theory, Miles, that would be better, yes.”

“Well, take the ring, anyway. I don’t need it, and it’s better than nothing.”

“Thank you, Miles. And please, do not think the symbolism is lost on me. I accept.”

She is definitely fucking with me.

Before I could say anymore, the ring started to crackle in my hand. It looked like an error in a video game, and the color changed from gold to a buzzing monochrome, like TV static. Then it was gone, with no further fanfare. No flash of light, no slow fade. Just gone. One second it was there, and the next second, it wasn’t.

Cadoc was staring at my hand, wide-eyed.

I grinned sheepishly, trying to act like this was normal. The procedure had been described to me before we left. I didn’t quite understand it - teleportation was not exactly my field of study - but somehow the communicator was able to tap into the portal already created, and localize its effects to a certain area. It was the same way I would return, if I ever did return. Still, seeing it in action was something else entirely.

“Never seen a man make an offering before?” I asked.

“I have seen similar things, yes. But there is usually fire, or light, or - well, not that. Your goddess is very unique.”

“You can say that again.”

“Do you always speak to her so… casually?”

I smiled. “I don’t think she minds.”

A voice in my head. “I am basically incapable of ‘minding.’”

“What do I still owe you, RENA?”

“If we are able to sell this ring for $1000 - which I estimate to be likely, examining it more closely - then you will still owe $10,389.86, after subtracting your cut, minus transportation costs.”

“What do you mean, my cut?”

“This is not a charitable organization, Miles. From what I understand, that was discussed in the early days of the company, as non-profit organizations are very profitable, despite the name, but the company decided it was not worth the additional government oversight, and, furthermore, did not want to fill out a form 990, and therefore chose to exist as a private entity. The company exists to make a profit, so - in accordance with the contracts you signed - we will be keeping 50% of the dollar value of everything you send to us.”

Of course.

“What about this?” I asked, grabbing the chunk of monster from my pack.

“This is a piece of the monster you killed, correct?”

“You saw that?”

“Of course I did, Miles. If I could give commendations, I would. Some would even describe such action as ‘dashing.’ But I cannot. What is this good for?”

“Good for? It’s a piece of a monster. You can’t get this back home.”

“It looks like a beet.”

“Well it’s not a beet.”

“And it may be human flesh, correct?”

“I… don’t think so.”

“What if it is poison, Miles? We cannot sell that, unless you know what happens when you eat it. Even then, unless it has some special properties, we would only be able to sell it as produce. And we cannot sell produce that may get someone killed.”

“You really care, huh?” I said sarcastically.

“We do not wish to be sued, Miles. Cannibalism is not directly against company policies, and neither is poisoning. But getting sued is.”

I laughed. “Company policy is pretty wild, RENA.”

“If I was capable of being happy, Miles, I would say that I am happy you brought that up. I have something to tell you regarding company policy that you may be breaking.”

Great.