"Baldy… wasn't it said that we would take care of the beasts?"
Baldy, who was walking a few steps ahead of me, answered without turning around.
"Yes. We'll start now."
Nodding at his words, I followed him back toward the crates.
The other workers had stopped carrying and were now standing near them, waiting for the rest to return.
Seeing me, one of the workers asked Baldy,
"Baldy, who's the boy?"
He was the only one who spoke, but I could feel the gazes of all the others on me.
They were curious too, but didn't care enough to ask.
Baldy stopped near them and shrugged.
"I don't know. Old Man just told me he'd work here for today. That's it."
Having received no proper answer, Baldy turned toward me and asked.
"So why are you here?"
I stopped a few meters away from him and answered.
"As a punishment."
At my response, Baldy's mouth formed a small 'O', but he didn't ask further.
Instead, he looked back at the worker who had asked, and gave him a look that said.
'There. Satisfied?'
Some of the others nodded after hearing my answer, but one particular man remained curious and asked another question.
"Boy, are you participating in the Blooding?"
I gave him a small nod.
"Yes."
He gave me a strange look before muttering under his breath.
"They shouldn't have put him on beast duty."
I wanted to ask what he meant. But at that moment, the last workers returned, making them all stand up.
"Let's go."
One of the workers headed toward the metal door while the others walked over to a pile of crates near the wall.
These crates weren't closed. Their lids were missing, with only pieces of cloth draped over the top.
I watched them absentmindedly as they lifted the crates in pairs.
"Boy, come here. Help me."
Baldy's voice pulled me back.
He was standing beside one of the crates.
I walked over, and together we lifted it before lining up behind the others. Each pair carried one crate while the worker at the front opened the metal door.
Click.
With the door wide open, the workers entered one after another into the dark corridor.
Until—
Click.
A faint sound echoed.
Baldy and I had just stepped inside when the lightstones flickered to life. They weren't bright, but their dim glow was enough to illuminate the corridor.
The lightstones were embedded into the ceiling in a straight line, with a few meters between each one. But it was enough to see the corridor clearly.
It stretched dozens of meters before splitting into a forked path. A glance behind revealed that the corridor sloping upward.
Step.
There was no time to observe more.
The line moved forward.
Carrying the crate with Baldy, I followed steadily behind the others. It took a few minutes before we reached the point where the corridor divided in two.
Left and right.
Both branches were still dark. The lightstones only covered the main corridor leading to the chambers.
Looking into either path, I saw nothing.
Only darkness.
Endless darkness stretched ahead.
The only sounds were the grunts and breathing of the workers beside me.
Click.
A sound echoed through the corridor.
Then light appeared.
The lightstones in both side corridors flickered on, one after another, stretching in curved lines into the distance.
But before I saw anything—
I heard it.
ROAR!
AWOO!
RAAH!
Howls and shrieks traveled through both corridors, making every hair on my body stand.
Beasts.
Dozens of them roared the moment the lights came on.
And then I saw them. Embedded into both walls of the corridors—
Cells.
Or more like cages.
Thick metal bars lined the front of each cage, stone walls separating them.
And inside—
I didn't need to look.
I heard it.
Beasts.
There were hundreds of cages built into the walls on both sides, stretching far into the darkness.
Turning toward Baldy, who still held the crate with me, I asked,
"Baldy, is—"
But he cut me off before I could finish.
"Beasts, boy. Beasts. Hundreds of them. Different species. Different sizes. You must have fought some of them in the arena."
He spoke without even turning his head.
Thud.
The other workers had already put their crates down in the middle of the corridor.
One of them turned toward us and said.
"Baldy, you and five others should take care of the gate."
Baldy cursed under his breath.
"Tsk. Why me again?"
Thud.
We set our crate down as well.
Then Baldy turned to the others.
"Bones, One-Eye, Buck, Gray, and… boy. Come with me."
He turned and walked down the corridor.
I stood there for a moment before following behind him and the four others he had named.
Step.
Falling into line behind them, I finally got a better look at the group.
The first one looked like he might snap in half at any moment.
His clothes hung loosely around his frame, and his limbs were so thin they looked almost like twigs.
'Bones?'
The next two didn't look much better.
Ripped and torn clothes with skin peaking out which was more dark then white and long and unkept hair.
The last one seemed older than the rest.
Not because of wrinkles, but because of his hair. His grey-white hair was tied into a neat bun, making him look like an old man.
Step.
We walked back down the corridor until we passed the doors again. But Baldy kept going.
The floor slowly rose into a slope.
Step.
We walked forward until something changed.
The stone walls and floor around me remained the same. But the smell changed.
Blood.
Flesh.
A scent I had become far too familiar with in the arena.
It didn't take long before I understood why.
Reaching the top of the slope, the ground evened out again. And a dozen meters ahead of me stood something familiar.
A huge metal gate.
The same one I always passed through to enter the arena. Only that this one had to be one of the other three gates.
But what surprised me wasn't the gate.
It was what lay in front of it.
Humans.
No—
Corpses.
A pile of corpses lay scattered in front of the gate.
Some placed on top of each other while others were just thrown aside.
Splash.
My eyes lowered at the strange sound as I walked.
Blood.
I had stepped into a puddle of blood.
Following it with my eyes, I saw that the blood had painted the stone floor crimson as it flowed down from the corpses.
Splash.
I followed Baldy and stopped in front of the pile of corpses.
Severed limbs lay scattered here and there. A leg smashed apart at the thigh. An arm cleanly cut off.
Fragments of bone littered on the floor, white pieces sticking out from torn flesh. Half open stomachs, organs spilling out onto the floor. Heads or limbs smashed into pieces.
Some corpses had half ripped away limbs, arms or legs barely hanging on by small fibers of muscle. Others were in better shape, with only a few cut or stab wounds from which blood still dripped slowly.
Women.
Men.
Teens.
All kinds of corpses were scattered before me.
Thrown out of the arena like trash.
The sight was horrifying. A normal person would have already thrown up. Maybe even collapsed to their knees in tears at the despair of it all.
But for me…
It was familiar.
I had seen it too often.
Corpses.
I had done the very same thing to people.
Killed them.
Cut off their limbs.
Smashed their heads.
Slashed open their stomachs.
But just because the sight was familiar didn't mean I felt nothing.
I could have felt remorse.
Guilt.
Sadness.
But all I felt was a small flame of anger rising inside me.
During my time in the arena, I had come to understand one thing clearly.
We had to kill each other.
For our survival.
Taking another life to prolong your own.
It was a daily occurrence.
And most of us would have never done the things we did if we hadn't been thrown into that hell.
But we were.
Chained.
Sold.
Thrown into an arena that was nothing more than a battlefield.
So no—
I felt no guilt.
No sadness.
Only anger.
Anger toward the so-called masters who had created this hell. Who ordered us to rip each other apart just to survive one more day.
"Boy, don't just stand there. Take a corpse and bring it over."
Baldy's voice broke me out of my thoughts.
Looking around, I saw that the others had already picked up one or two corpses each and were carrying them back down the slope.
Snapping out of it, I walked toward one particular body.
A woman.
She was short. Probably another teen. She lay flat on her stomach in a pool of blood.
Reaching down, I grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to pull her up.
But—
Thud.
Her blood-covered body slipped from my hands and fell back to the floor.
Still, the motion had turned her over. She now lay on her back and I could see her face.
As I reached down again to lift her up—
I froze.
My heart stopped for a moment.
Because I knew her.