Sitting on the edge of the building, Kariel slowly ate nutrient paste from a plastic container.
He consumed this black mass with a stony face, remaining outwardly impassive. But each time he swallowed a piece, he swallowed with long and agonizing difficulty.
He ate silently and persistently, ignoring his numb tongue and his body's protests.
He had to eat to live.
...
After eating the last piece, Kariel put away the container, closed his eyes, and waited patiently in the piercing wind.
He had to make sure the food had completely passed through his esophagus. If not, he might suddenly vomit after some time.
Kariel didn't want a repeat of that. Wasting food once was bad enough.
However, the reason for vomiting was not only nausea and disgust. Primarily, his throat and stomach instinctively rejected this food.
They did not recognize it as food.
Every meal made his body cry out in protest, demanding something else, but Kariel remained deaf to these pleas.
On Nostramo, only nutrient paste was considered normal food in his understanding.
It tasted disgusting, looked terrible, and smelled more like chemicals than food. Yes, apart from satisfying hunger, it had no other merits. But at least it wasn't made from rats or what was sold in the butcher shops.
Kariel slowly stood up.
He had made sure that the job called "eating" was completed. Now, all that remained was to systematically carry out all other tasks.
Standing on the edge of the building, he stretched his shoulders. Without his cloak, his rough, ragged attire fluttered in the wind, making a strange, rhythmic sound.
The hem of his clothes flapped in the wind, and Kariel idly moved his fingers in his sleeves. His body was cooling down, his hands were already starting to freeze.
But that was even good. These unpleasant sensations always helped him stay clear-headed.
And he needed to stay clear-headed.
All the heirs of House Scryvok were dead, and with them, their lieutenants in the Underhive of Quintus—the Glorious Warlords.
This was a serious matter, even for the Scryvoks themselves.
Suffering such losses on the eve of the Great Purge would undoubtedly infuriate some of them.
But this family was not as fragmented as the Knocking Teeth; their discipline was strict. Without an order from the head of the house, the Count, no one would act on their own.
This meant that if the Count turned out to be a cold-blooded man, the next step of the plan would have to be changed.
At this thought, he squinted and shook his head—the affairs of House Scryvok could be dealt with later, but the people from the Knocking Teeth still hadn't shown up.
Either they had forgotten, or they didn't care about the death of their new slave.
Kariel leaned towards the latter, and this greatly disappointed him.
After all, only a month remained until the Great Purge.
During this time, the inhabitants of the Underhive would lock themselves in their shacks or dilapidated apartments and tremble in fear.
The gangs, on the other hand, would begin a ruthless slaughter, casting aside all rules and restrictions to defend the interests of their aristocrats.
At such times, aristocrats would not venture into the Underhive. And after the Great Purge, any sane person would not think of looking for a killer in the chaos-ridden Underhive.
The Knocking Teeth, though mad, were not stupid. And if they didn't send people...
Tsk.
Would they really give up?
Kariel had no answer, but he remembered something else about the Great Purge.
The Great Purge was actually a common name. Everyone on Nostramo called it that. But the aristocrats were a little different.
When they, clad in luxurious attire, elegantly conversed at balls or exchanged bloody deals at negotiation tables, they called this brutal event "purification."
In all official documents, they called it that.
Purification.
And what's more interesting, at one time they even propagated it everywhere.
"Let's purify the Underhive, rid the people of Nostramo of decay, poverty, and violence."
This phrase glowed day and night on holographic billboards near the factories.
Kariel couldn't help but chuckle. It seemed so absurd to him that it evoked an absurd laugh.
The workers couldn't read. Who were these slogans around the factories intended for?
Purification... What a sense of humor they had.
How I hate that sense of humor.
"Kariel!"
Ghost's voice, filled with genuine joy, rang out from behind.
"I found an unclaimed water purifier!"
Turning around, Kariel saw Ghost's radiant face. In his hands, he held a heavy, rust-covered, and deformed apparatus.
Obviously, it had been discarded due to a malfunction.
"Can we use it?" Ghost asked hopefully.
"Perhaps... but it will require a lot of work to fix it," Kariel nodded vaguely. "But where did you find it?"
"At the junkyard near the factory in the center of New City."
Ghost replied quickly:
"I noticed it during today's patrol. It seems to have been lying there for several days, and it's..."
but no one took it!
"You think you're lucky, huh?"
Kariel chuckled silently.
"But your luck is that no one needs a broken old water purifier, Ghost... "
"This thing is damn bulky; besides you, probably no one else could carry it in one hand. And it breaks down constantly. It's been discontinued for a long time."
Most of the old water purifiers dumped in the junkyard disappeared somewhere in the city, gradually buried under a layer of dirt or corpses.
It's always like this.
Always buried, always ignored, always forgotten.
Kariel blinked, momentarily succumbing to the flood of emotions, took a deep breath of the cold air, and then slowly smiled.
"You're lucky," he said with a smile. "I haven't found one like this before."
"Really?"
"Yes... Put it on the ground, I'll see if it can still be used."
The Ghost immediately crouched down and carefully placed the water purifier on the ground.
Kariel walked over.
He squatted down and tapped the casing of the device with his finger. A dull sound echoed, slowly fading on the roof of the tall building.
"Can it still be used?" the Ghost asked hopefully.
...I just tapped it.
Kariel replied with a bitter smile, "How can I tell its condition from a single tap?"
"Besides, we don't have electricity, Ghost. The rainwater filter works because it's a very simple device, so simple that it doesn't even need electricity..."
"And this giant you brought is a real energy hog."
"Oh," the Ghost nodded in disappointment. "And I thought you knew..."
"How can I know everything?"
Kariel threw it away as he spoke, wiping the side panel of the water purifier with his sleeve.
Usually, the date and place of manufacture were indicated here. Knowing this, one could find suitable spare parts in the relevant stores in the city.
In those stores that worked on the side, or rather, specialized in the black market, you could find almost anything.
From machine parts, weapons, and ammunition to internal organs... They traded in almost everything. Except for what could be bought in butcher shops.
At this thought, Kariel froze for a moment – they had no money, so spare parts could be a big problem.
And, besides, there was one condition for replacing parts in the old water purifier.
"Alright, let's take a look first."
He continued to wipe the side panel nonchalantly. The dirt quickly rubbed off. In the light of the neon light that penetrated here, Kariel saw the letters engraved on the side of the water purifier.
He studied them carefully, then raised his head and shook it, looking at the Ghost.
"It seems it can't be repaired, Ghost."
"Huh? Why?"
"Because the factory that produced it closed ten years ago. These old water purifiers had many models, and the one you found is one of the least efficient. That's why the factory closed."
"It didn't sell well; few people wanted to buy it. Officials and other factory owners had better options, so few of them were preserved... So you're really lucky to have found it."
The Ghost blinked and asked with disappointment, "So we can't fix it?"
Kariel nodded quietly.
"Can't we replace parts from other water purifiers?" the Ghost persisted.
"The internal structure of all machines is different. Even if you manage to replace parts from other water purifiers, it's unlikely to work as before."
...Sorry, Kariel.
"Hm?"
The Ghost sat down in disappointment.
"I brought a useless thing and wasted your time."
"What makes you think that?"
"Because..." the Ghost muttered. "Your countdown..."
Kariel fell silent.
A cold wind blew.
For the first time, he didn't know how to answer this naive monster.
He involuntarily recalled the past.
Long ago, in the days when he was just a ghost, the sky of Nostramo was already shrouded in darkness.
Evil reigned everywhere; it was the foundation of this world, every corner of the Star of Eternal Night was sick, corrupt, insane.
Every second spent on Nostramo, that ghost heard countless screams. Innocents were killed by the thousands, and the guilty went unpunished. So-called "justice" and "retribution" never came.
They didn't even bother to be late.
And then, after terrible years, that ghost became Kariel Lohars.
The ghost lowered his head and sighed.
"Kariel?" the Ghost called anxiously. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Kariel replied quietly.
"But your countdown..."
"Yes, my countdown."
"If I don't use this power too often, I can live peacefully, maybe even for a long time."
"But I can't, Ghost. I have to use it."
"I am the only one who knows what is really wrong with Nostramo."
"Ghost."
"Huh?"
"Don't worry about the countdown," Kariel said calmly. "I'll find a way to deal with it."
"Really?"
"I've never lied to you. Now, shall we talk about further plans?"
The Ghost looked at him and nodded.
Kariel smiled slightly.
"There's only a month left until the Great Purge. According to tradition, the aristocrats will soon send their representatives to give speeches in the center of New City. It's a pompous and meaningless tradition, but it's very beneficial for us..."
At least, for now.
***
Read the story months before public release — early chapters are on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Granulan