Chapter 32
“Ranan, it's time to eat. Get up.”
The child rubbed his eyes and rose from his spot. The room with pure white bedding stretching along both sides instead of the colorful kind kids would use looked a bit eerie.
“Did you eat while I was sleeping?”
“Yeah, twice.”
Mary found it odd that Ranan always asked how many meals she'd had since waking up whenever he rose, but there was no reason to hide it, so she answered honestly.
“Thanks, Mary.”
Ranan stroked the head of the child, who barely reached his shoulder.
The children of Ainoa Orphanage had been trapped underground in this shadowy place with the Director. No windows, so it was hard to tell, but assuming three meals a day, at least ten days had passed. If it was only two meals, even longer.
“They said you have to eat this time since you missed two. Hurry.”
Ranan followed Mary's lead to the meal.
It was ridiculous to be so well-fed despite captivity, but what could they do when their kind kidnappers brought meals every time? The food even seemed more abundant than at the orphanage.
As Ranan walked hand-in-hand with Mary, she suddenly stopped and tugged his arm. Thinking she had something to say, he bent down, and she whispered.
“Ranan, are we getting sold?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Yulma said so. They feed and wash us well to sell us. Is it true?”
What did he say to this kid? Ranan felt annoyed at Yulma but couldn't deny Mary's words. It did look like they were being well-kept to be sold.
“I don't know.”
“Ranan doesn't know everything after all!”
That was because even the most mature Ranan was only fourteen. The oldest at the orphanage was sixteen; older kids usually left like Daisy to live independently.
“And earlier, I heard footsteps from above.”
“Footsteps?”
“Yeah. The Director shushed us, saying it must be Troy.”
“I see.”
Soon they reached the room used as a dining area. The sight of everyone gathered eating was familiar, but the absence of laughter amid so many young kids hammered home reality.
“There you are, Ranan.”
“...Yes.”
The Director pushed a meal toward Ranan. She'd set it aside beforehand for when he arrived. Makes sense after missing two.
Ranan took the meal cautiously and asked, glancing around.
“Director. Are we getting sold now?”
“Oh, child….”
The Director sighed as if pitying him but didn't reveal the truth. Ranan couldn't press for fear of the answer.
Meal time ended quickly, and the children followed the Director back to the bedding room. Arriving late, slowest-eating Ranan and Mary trailed at the end.
“Ranan!”
“Yeah?”
“Shh.”
Mary's steps slowed, then she led Ranan another way. He followed quietly, wary of those ahead.
Mary took him to a narrow room. Inside sat a man wrapped in iron chains, eyes covered by a black veil, on a chair.
“Mary. The Director said not to come here.”
“But this uncle hasn't eaten.”
“She must've taken care of it.”
“No. I heard him yelling 'I won't eat!'”
Mary rummaged in her pocket, having snuck some food. Bread with child-sized handprints, damp from soup.
Yulma would've tossed it as dirty. But Mary headed straight to the man with the uneatable bread.
“Uncle. Aren't you hungry?”
“...I'm hungry, so get lost.”
Mary shoved bread in his mouth unfazed. He spat it out, retching.
“Tastes like trash….”
“My bread….”
Mary picked it up and pocketed it again. Why keep it? Weapon maybe? Ranan mused it could harden into one.
One feeding done, time to go—but Mary settled beside him.
“What's your name, uncle? I'm Mary. That's Ranan.”
Exchanging names with a chained man in a dim basement—who knows kids' friendliness.
Ranan figured no answer, but after a while, the man spoke quietly.
“...Melek.”
Starved over thirty meals, yet spits bread and chats casually. Ranan didn't want to highlight their plight to Mary.
Instead of stopping her, Ranan stood watch. They might notice headcount short.
“Melek, do you know why we're here?”
“Yeah, I know very well.”
“Even Ranan didn't know.”
Mary praised Melek's smarts, thumbs-upped, then awkwardly lowered it realizing his blindfold.
Mary eyed Melek. Smart like this? Must be the noble boy Yulma mentioned, tied tight so he wouldn't escape as the most valuable.
“Are we getting sold?”
“Something like that.”
“Something? Then Yulma's wrong?”
Melek gestured to leave, but Mary took it as come closer. Sighing, Melek figured scaring her off.
“That Yulma kid's perceptive but lacks imagination.”
“What!”
Mary gasped softly; top-smart cool Yulma had a flaw.
“You'll be eaten by monsters. That's why they're fattening you up nicely. Pretty pigs taste best.”
“Eaten…? P-Pig…?”
Mary imagined herself roasted as bacon for monsters, shuddering and rubbing shoulders. Sales didn't scare, but eaten? Pure kid fear.
Ranan pulled shocked Mary away; faint footsteps echoed from hall end.
“Mary, footsteps. Hurry!”
“But we're getting eaten.”
“Nonsense.”
Teary Mary grabbed Ranan's hand. Monster footsteps? Tiptoeing, eyes down, she bumped into Ranan's back.
“Ow. Ranan, why stop? Bumped.”
Rubbing forehead, scolding, then spotting huge shadow ahead, Mary buried her face, holding breath. Melek was right. Bacon time for us?
Trembling Mary relaxed at familiar voice.
“Ranan, Mary. Why here? Searched everywhere.”
It was the Director fetching them.
She scolded, offering hand; Mary reached, but Ranan pulled her back. Mary patted Ranan, understanding his fear of the 'monster'—which was just Director.
“Let's go back.”
The Director glanced at Melek, then dragged kids away.
‘Finally gone.’
Melek swallowed, hearing retreating steps.
So hungry, near death. Nearly bit the hand in his mouth.
“No kids? Demon my ass? Fine, I'll make you accept them as sacrifice.”
Deliberately freed kids near curiosity bait. All pretend uninterested but approach and chat.
Melek's chains for show only, no restraint. Eyes blindfolded to ignore 'kids,' mouth free to devour anytime. Eat when hungry. Who's the demon here?
***
Alright! Let's search!
Faster to find Troy and pinpoint than hunt abducted kids. Empire's vast, trafficking spots plenty; tied to Daisy, so Troy's key. Problem: how to find Troy.
Criminals leave traces—orphanage first? Or Troy item for Jelly sniff-trace!
Jelly found Daisy well; rely on nose.
“Why stare?”
“Can you find Troy?”
“Even I can't do that.”
No go…. Disappointing. Duh, Daisy episode—Jelly sniffing solves lame.
Then how build favor? See, Daisy's disappointed too.
“You… look pretty ordinary up close.”
