After a night of blacksmithing, Vivi was awoken by movement around her.

Unfamiliar lights shone through Vivi’s groggy vision. She squinted, confused, before suddenly flinching awake. She’d fallen asleep by the anvil again, as she often did. Except, she wasn’t in Grandpa’s smithery, and this wasn’t her anvil.

“Morning, Vivi,” Lucius said. “Congratulations on surviving your first night.”

She stared at her surroundings, reality registering once again. A blanket had been wrapped around her. She still wore her raincoat; nothing seemed to be stolen from her. That was good. She had been right about the blacksmiths. They were far more trustworthy than anyone outside.

Vivi didn’t know where the blanket had come from, but she didn’t complain. She cuddled tighter, as if trying to hide in the blanket’s warmth. Demons surrounded her, busy with morning activities. None of the apprentices were smithing. They seemed to be preparing for something.

“Ah, hey,” one of the apprentices said. He was a younger dwarf with a short beard and light skin. He wore a tunic and a jacket. “Good work yesterday.”

Vivi recognized him as one of the smiths. She gave him a weak nod. “How many swords did I make?”

“Four total,” the short-beard said. “Your tenacity is insane. I could never complete four swords in one day. You barely took breaks.”

I used ether, didn’t I? Vivi asked. To stay awake longer.

“Yes,” Lucius said. “You abused my powers quite thoroughly. You’ll need a lot more sleep if we wish to fully recover.”

Not happening, Vivi thought. Maybe a few minutes… I’ll get up then.

Another dwarf grabbed the short-beard by the shoulder. “Surviving another week, eh, Aruid? Fucking collection day again.”

The short-beard, Aruid, laughed awkwardly. “I’ll need to be on time this week. I’ve been late too many times.”

“You got your hundred ether?”

“Yeah,” Aruid said. “Axback wouldn’t leave us without.” He glanced at Vivi. “What about you, um…”

“Call me Vivi,” she said. “I’m fine. No need to worry.”

“Nice to meet you, Vivi,” the second dwarf said. “I’m Ravig. That’s my blanket, by the way. I don’t lend it to anyone who I don’t respect.”

Ravig was a taller dwarf, though still short. His shoulders were broad and muscular. He seemed to be young, around the same age as Vivi. His tank top was unclean, but not hideously so.

Vivi stood up and offered the blanket back. “Thanks,” she said.

Faint screams could be heard from outside. The painful kind of screams, accompanied by a whipping sound. The dwarves frowned. “Already, starting, huh? We should go.”

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Every demon in the smithery was gathering at the door. Axback was talking to his smiths. They seemed to be talking about ether, counting whether everyone was above the threshold of a hundred.

“You coming with us?” Ravig asked. “I wouldn’t go alone. Collection days are the most desperate days in Zand. Each week has been messier than the previous. Beggars tried to rob me in front of guards last week.”

“I hear the higher ups are considering getting rid of the slash system,” Aruid said. “They’d skip straight to death if you fail to collect ether. Just to kill the weak off quicker.”

Ravig sighed, then asked again, “You coming?”

“Sure,” Vivi said. She wouldn’t need to pay ether today, but knowing how collection day worked would be important for next week.

Shortly after, the blacksmiths including Axback headed for the hub. They locked their doors, trusting nobody would steal.

Immediately upon entering, Ravig’s warnings proved true. The hub was packed with demons. Most stood around calmly, waiting for their turn, but of course, the crazies existed within the crowd as well. In under a minute of entering, a demon with broken spectacles and a hunched back approached Vivi.

“Miss, please, do you have ten ether to spare?” the demon pleaded, walking alongside Vivi. “I have ninety. I just need ten to survive. Please.”

Ten? Vivi thought. He just needs ten?

“No,” Ravig said firmly before Vivi could respond.

“But… I just…” the beggar began.

“Get out,” Ravig said. “Or I’ll hurt you.”

The beggar stayed for a few seconds more before turning around, back to the crowd.

Ravig looked annoyed. “Don’t ever give beggars a look like that. The sympathetic one. They’ll never leave you alone. That beggar does not hold ninety ether; he’s following a scheme. He claims to just need ten ether. In reality, he needs a lot more. He just hopes to repeat the trick ten times to earn enough ether to not die.”

Vivi glanced behind herself. The little demon barely had any meat in him. “He will die,” she said.

“Most likely,” Ravig said. “Can’t do much about it. Once you grow weak, it’s almost impossible to recover. Subsidies and help are useless for those who can’t hold their own.”

A sour taste welled up in Vivi’s throat. She ignored it, following the dwarves deeper into the hub.

Most stalls were closed entirely, enclosed with steel shutters. This was for good reason, Vivi figured. Demons were fighting left and right, and the guards weren’t present. What use were rules when nobody was there to enforce them?

As the dwarves got closer to the centre of the hub, where the crowds grew thicker, the source of the screams and whippings revealed itself.

A large platform had been placed in the middle of the hub. Ten figures stood atop the platform. One of them was Uundref. The Stewards, Vivi figured. Each Steward was accompanied by an etherprint scanner, as well as a line of nimrods arriving to get themselves examined, and to deliver their hundred ether.

The crowd was calmer than the outskirts of the hub. Guards had been spread out all over both on the platform and inside the crowd. The Stewards themselves were all insanely strong. No nimrod could start a fight here.

The lines moved mostly swiftly. Nimrods got examined with etherprint scanners before wisps flowed into their Steward’s cores. Names were written down, and the nimrods were free to move on with their lives.

An alarmingly large number of demons failed to deliver their ether. These demons were led to another platform that stood even taller beside the first. The whipping platform.

The screams resounded in the air. Five demons were being whipped at once with enough force to rip right through skin. Just looking at it made Vivi’s skin crawl. Most demons on the whipping platform were scrawny and already dying. Some had slash marks drawn to their backs already. Those with two marks would be whipped until they died.

The blacksmiths around her wore harsh expressions, looking away from the torture.

Next to Vivi, some demon laughed weakly. His eyes were wide, staring at the torture. “It takes days just to walk after the first whipping. It’s that bad. Get there once, and you’re fucking dead. You won’t recover.”

The man took a limp step forward. His tunic was torn, revealing two deep cut marks embedded into his back. He staggered a few steps, the crowd making space for him.

Then he pulled a knife from his pockets and charged at the nearest guard, screaming. “Justice for nimrods!”