Early morning, she woke up on time.

As usual, Ivy felt the cold emanating from her chest. The chill had spread along her ribs and spine, covering the upper half of her body and extending into her arms.

The arm she’d strained yesterday was still slightly cold, but the pain was gone.

“The area of coverage has increased by about a finger-width,” Ivy estimated.

Getting dressed and washing up took less than two minutes.

And the long-awaited bowel movement felt wonderfully refreshing.

“It seems that a 1:1 ratio of food to iron is suitable. I didn’t feel that terrifying hunger last night,” she thought.

Looking at her reflection, Ivy noticed some changes since a week ago.

She'd lost some facial fat, her chin was more defined, and her skin was noticeably paler, giving her a colder appearance.

Ivy ate breakfast, went out, and rode her bike, occasionally swallowing an iron bead.

The tires screeched against the ground, and she slammed on the brakes.

Looking up, Ivy saw several ragged children blocking her path.

They were short, their faces grimy, their clothes torn. The air around them, about a meter away, was filled with a foul stench.

Ivy frowned, “What do you want?”

“Food!” The tallest and darkest child approached, his voice hoarse. “You gave us a lunchbox two days ago.”

Ivy vaguely remembered these children—the scavengers who had fought the dog for the lunchbox.

Ivy didn’t respond, dismounting her bike, one hand in her pocket, gripping something cold. Her eyes were alert.

“Food. Where is the food? More food!” Another child, seemingly unused to speaking to people, stammered, his eyes fixated on Ivy with fierce intensity.

Ivy found their request absurd.

She said coldly, “There’s no more.”

The children looked at each other and lunged.

The tallest child pulled out an empty lunchbox, saying, “Tomorrow, bring more.”

Ivy licked the iron bead in her mouth, her initial feeling of absurdity replaced by coldness, her eyes darkening.

It’s not wrong to waste food. Giving food to others is the mistake.

In a cannibalistic world, kindness might elicit gratitude, but it might also make you someone else's next meal.

Ivy’s thoughts raced, her understanding of this world deepening.

She took the lunchbox and threw it forcefully into the overflowing trash can, saying harshly, “I don’t have any. If you want to eat, dig through the trash.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“You!”

The tallest child roared, reaching out to grab the bike. The other children swarmed Ivy, their grimy hands grabbing at her clothes.

Ivy drew her knife and slashed.

“Take your dirty paws off me!” Ivy yelled coldly, a streak of blood appearing on the blade, presumably from a cut paw.

The hands recoiled. The children took a step back, their eyes filled with malice.

Ivy felt a chill, but her face remained impassive. She gripped the knife tightly, pausing briefly before each child.

She regulated her breathing, making her voice even and cold, devoid of emotion.

“You can all attack me at once, but someone will get hurt.

The injured person might survive today, but in two days, the wound will fester, and you’ll end up in the trash, becoming dog food.”

“You won’t feel the pain, you won’t be abandoned.”

Having said this, Ivy paused, then mounted her bike and rode directly towards the child who had tried to grab her.

The child’s face was filled with rage, but his retreating feet betrayed his weakness. Ivy’s bicycle made a sharp turn, and she rode away.

She pedaled furiously for about an hour before stopping by the roadside, swallowing the saliva-coated iron beads in her mouth.

“Damn it, what a terrible experience.”

“No, it’s because I lack the practical experience and understanding of this world's rules. This world has turned many people into monsters.”

“I need to learn from this. I can’t maintain my previous worldview. I need to learn to see some people as monsters. Or maybe… it’s not that people become evil corpses, but that evil corpses are the true form of humanity?”

Ivy shook her head and pulled another iron bead from her pocket, putting it in her mouth.

This world was full of absurdity and danger. Only the bloodstained knife and the cold iron beads could provide her with a meager sense of security.

Passing by the school, Ivy noticed several tattooed men, each holding a stack of papers, comparing them to the students passing by, occasionally stopping someone for questioning.

Ivy didn’t dare to stop. She sped away, only catching a glimpse of the names and photos on those papers.

They looked vaguely like the student enrollment list.

A chill ran down Ivy’s spine as she rode.

She guessed that those tattooed men were from the Qinglang Gang. They had somehow obtained the students’ information and were conducting investigations.

And the Qinglang Gang’s investigation was clearly aimed at…

“Finding the murderer,” Ivy realized, a chill running down her spine. “They’re looking for me!!!”

The Qinglang Gang clearly didn’t trust the precinct's conclusion.

Ivy felt a surge of frustration. She had managed to deceive the precinct officer with her fabricated crime scene, but not the gang leader.

Why would a gang leader know more about solving a case than a precinct officer? Just because he's the dead man’s father?

This is completely unreasonable, she thought angrily.

On her way to the incinerator, Ivy’s mind raced.

First, what was the Qinglang Gang’s attitude? Did they believe Zheng Hang had been framed and was missing, or did they believe he was dead?

Second, did the Qinglang Gang’s suspicions have any basis? Was it merely the father’s subjective assumption, or did they have evidence?

Finally, what was the scope of the Qinglang Gang’s investigation? Were they investigating only the Class, or had they expanded beyond that?

If they were investigating the Class, were they investigating everyone, or had they narrowed their focus?

In other words, was the Qinglang Gang conducting a broad investigation, casting a wide net, or had they already identified specific suspects?

What was the logic behind their suspicions? Most importantly, was I among them?

“Too little information to draw a conclusion. I need to find a way to probe the Qinglang Gang’s investigation,” Ivy thought.

She had assumed that once the precinct issued a wanted notice and she cremated Zheng Hang’s body, the matter would be resolved.

Unexpectedly, things didn’t go as planned.

Today’s events, whether the street altercation or the unresolved murder case, had left Ivy feeling increasingly anxious.

“These consecutive bad events feel like a harbinger of an end to my peaceful life,” she thought.

Since activating the system, Ivy had prepared herself mentally, but she still hoped the storm would arrive a little later.

“At least, let me fully develop the Iron Eater skill to Rank 2,” she thought.

“Or at the very least, let me survive this week, until the iron hardening covers my entire skeletal system.”

Each day that passed increased Ivy’s resilience, but would things go according to her plan?

She didn’t know. All she could do was seize every available moment to train relentlessly…