*Content Warning:
This chapter contains graphic violence, blood consumption, dehumanization, and references to human trafficking and exploitation.
Xi River
[Sunday, Umbrafall 28, 4310]
—Xi Dock Warehouse Complex—
As I lay draped across this mound of motionless bodies, I wondered if anyone would assume I was just another dead body. With my hat tipped low, one arm hanging limp over the side, the blood from all the bodies beneath me was slowly being drawn into my cores and essence system. I didn't care that the dark fabric of my coat was getting soaked. The cool, sticky feeling kept me present in the moment. Right as I finished absorbing all the blood I could hold, someone in the pile shifted.
This apparently triggered the other failures to awaken from their blood loss comas. Another midway up the pile twitched. Someone near the bottom drew a ragged breath. The body pillow I was lounging on let out a broken, wet sound that tried very hard to be quiet. Ah, so there are some who survived. My grin stretched just a fraction wider. They would have to be moved sooner rather than later since they were waking up ahead of schedule. They ruined my cultivation meditation with their shifting and loud breathing. I wanted to kill them for this, but they are now recycled products, so no destroying the merchandise.
I wouldn't have to anyway. They should have kept winning. But I didn't want to move yet; the soft female bodies directly beneath me were quite comfortable to lounge on. I fell into a light nap until a door creaked open somewhere behind me. I didn't acknowledge this interrupter of my consolidation slumber. I kept my body relaxed as he approached my resting place.
The one approaching me couldn't tell if I was sleeping or in deep meditation, so he let his aura slip out. I've been known to have hair-trigger reactions to anyone who approached me. He still hasn't forgiven me for cutting off his hand. It was only two times. He needs to let it go. Like in the song. It's not like I haven't promised to give him half of the best essence resources I get for the next two years. One year for each offense. My grin stretched just a bit more. The approaching aura was refined, precise, and controlled in a way that made the chaos within me feel… organized. Typical of him to make order out of my chaos. I'm the big brother. It's my job to handle my own shit while protecting him and Raine. My grin changed into a pout.
I refused to open my eyes or greet him. My mind wandered when I no longer heard the echoes of his approaching steps. I could still feel his aura, so I knew he hadn't left. My attention returned to the present when his aura was tucked away, and in its place, his scent of amber and white musk invaded my senses. One eyelid slid up to reveal what I had suspected. My ice-blue eyes met his light Caribbean blue eyes. Skye was hovering a few inches above me. My body mound was pretty high but also very bloody, so unless he wanted a bloody climb, this was the only way to reach me and stay clean.
He would deny it if asked, but he was a bit of a germaphobe. —If you are finished indulging and cultivating,— Skye's voice slid cleanly into my mind, smooth as silk drawn over a blade, —we have shipments to verify.—
I took a moment to process his words. In that single moment, the pain in my essence system circumvented my mental block. I felt my throat core burn like liquid fire. I had once again taken in too much, too quickly. The blood still needed to settle. No matter how hard I tried, nothing filled this hollow space inside me for long. Maybe I should just stay here and let myself decompose. Nobody needs me. Skye and Raine will continue our plan. Between the two of them, they will surely succeed. The pull to just…stop weighed on me. I was so tired of pretending to be strong.
Then a hand reached out to cup my face. Skye's neutral expression came back into focus. He was draining me of the excess blood essence. My mood lightened, and the pull of depression eased. Not gone, just placed on the back burner again. My smile returned like it had never left.
"Of course, my dear Whispersmith," I drawled, my voice bright and honeyed. Maybe just a touch too sharp to be kind. "The Silk Madcap lives to serve." I rolled down the mound of bodies with practiced ease, letting gravity do most of the work before catching myself lightly at the bottom. Blood, sweat, something thicker coated me from head to toe, but I didn't slip. I never do. I'm good like that.
With a happy clap, all the bodily fluids I was covered in were expelled from me. My surroundings, which included innocent recruits who didn't yet understand how I functioned, were now covered in those lovely body fluids. The one next to the one that always smells like ham looks pretty good covered like that. I should recommend him to Shūshu Huī (Uncle Ash), he looks like someone who would enjoy Shūshu Huī's attention. I took a picture of the man then made a reminder in my phone to ask one of my zhōngwèi (lieutenants) to send his information to Shūshu Huī.
Clean and ready to get to work, I made a quick adjustment to my gloves, jacket, and the tilt of my hat. Presentation mattered after all. Even here in a dock warehouse. "I wouldn't want to keep all our wonderful clients waiting for our precious elite products," I added, tilting my head up just enough to catch Skye still hovering above it all, pristine as ever. "Especially not when according to a little birdie, thunder dick is supposed to return tonight or tomorrow."
No reaction beyond eye contact and his slow blink to prove he was listening to me. He rarely reacted to my shenanigans anymore. Looks like it is time to try a new action plan. I can't let my brothers keep being sticks in the mud. As their big brother, I must make sure they show emotions at least twice a week.
Around me, the lights were turned on, and the recruits began what I had delayed for the past two hours. The week's losses were gathered—lifted, dragged, sorted into the inventory spreadsheets. Horrible, maddening things—that is what spreadsheets are to me. But they were necessary to our organization, unlike these wastes of space. The failures that were still barely breathing would need to be healed before sent on their merry way to their new assignments. Lucky them. They will get another chance to prove their worth.
After eight losses out of ten matches in the fight rings, they stopped being investments. They are resources bought for a purpose. The ones who were set up to lose will go to the pet division. They might be able to return to the fight division or even be set free after their contract with their new owners is up. The ones who just couldn't win, however, will be sent to the medical division. They will make lovely human cauldrons, the useless sacks of flesh. They will learn that having a purpose was a privilege. Survival is not.
I didn't look back as I followed Skye out into the night. There was nothing left here worth my attention. I could go for a burger, fries, and a milkshake right now.