Later in the afternoon after obtaining his pills and nutrition bars, bluish-white light radiated from Sigmarus’ fusion melder and reflected off the metal of his dusty blast helmet. Under the delicate, glowing nano-tendrils, sturdy materials gradually melded into a new foundation strut. The entire process was similar to welding, but the result was stronger and cleaner than any welder of the past could accomplish.

Eventually, lunch time arrived. Sigmarus shut off the box-shaped machine supplying material to his fusion melder through a tube-like attachment and set the fusion melder on top of the box. The overwhelming buzzing sound of the machines gradually died down as his other coworkers followed suit.

As usual, he took a seat on the dirty floor away from his coworkers who grouped up to eat together. He usually sat close enough to hear their discussions since it was his only source of news around here. Today, however, he didn’t really care to listen.

While removing his helmet, he groaned due to the pain throbbing in his chest and arms. His face contorted with displeasure since the pain reminded him of the fools who had attacked him earlier. The damage slowed his working speed to the point that he had probably been faster before increasing his stats. He wanted to zone out and eat his nutrition bars in peace, but that was not to be.

Supervisor Bob walked up behind him with furrowed brows and asked, “You’re working really slow today, Grayson. You doing alright?”

Nibbling on his nutrition bar, Sigmarus quickly said, “I’m fine.”

“A few of the other guys said you looked like you were in pain, though.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Bob raised a brow as realization dawned in his eyes. “Did someone try to rob your pills today?”

“Yes, but I’m fine.”

“Do you need the rest of the day off? If it’s bad enough, you might not get in trouble for it.”

Sigmarus stared at Supervisor Bob. This old guy apparently had a hearing problem. It seemed he needed to use his last resort, a long sentence.

“I’ll be back to speed in a few days, so don’t worry about it.”

“Oh! You spoke a whole sentence! It must be pretty bad, then.”

Since the old guy didn’t pay much heed to his words, Sigmarus simply shut up and focused on his nutrition bar. As he gobbled it down, he did his best to ignore the pain burning around his chest wound.

“Well, if you need a break, let me know. I’ll see what I can do.”

Watching the man join the others during their meal, Sigmarus thought, Thanks for the offer, but I know you can’t do anything. He knew very well that if he displayed his injury, the company would simply boot him out and never take him back. His savings could last for a few months but would eventually run out. Losing this job was unacceptable for the time being. He could only push through.

Sigmarus’ face contorted into a grimace as he nibbled at his tasteless nutrition bar. It crunched between his teeth like stale bread crust, almost like a reminder that his life as a muskrat held no purpose. If not for the apparatus, he might have started considering suicide, just like he had for the first several months after being banished.

Upon recalling his bitter attitude from his first days as a muskrat, he stopped chewing, rested his arms on his knees, and lowered his head. A few crumbs fell onto the ground between his feet from the nutrition bar held loosely in his hand. He didn’t even flinch when a small cockroach with deformed wings darted under his leg to collect the crumbs. In a way, its desperate pursuit of vittles looked a lot like a muskrat clinging to the handouts from above. It was pitiful.

While observing the cockroach, the conversation of his coworkers unsurprisingly shifted from the monthly pill handouts to what brothel they would visit after work. What else were they going to do? Twiddle their thumbs in their lonely apartments? Sigmarus understood why they always visited such places but didn’t pay much attention to the uninteresting topic.

“You guys wanna visit the Blue Moon place again?”

“Why not visit some other place this time? We’ve been going there almost every day for months now.”

“I don’t really care. It’s all the same to me.”

The group of men went back and forth as though this discussion was the most important part of the day. Most of them favored the idea of trying out a new brothel until one of the older guys who had been focused on his rat meat jerky abruptly joined the conversation.

“Hehe. You guys’ll be missing out this time if ya go somewhere else. I’m going to Blue Moon, and in the mornin’ to boot.”

“Hah? Is there some special or something?” One of the younger guys asked.

The man smirked, condescendingly shook the remainder of his jerky at the question, and retorted, “I went there on Sunday and found out something nice. You’ll definitely regret going to some other place.”

The other men shut their mouths and focused on the jerky guy with expectant gazes, causing the man’s lips to curl up further into an arrogant grin.

“Ya see, when I was there the other day, I found a new hussy to play with.”

“And?”

“Hehe. She’s still young and fresh. She still got her v-guard on unfortunately, but you can still use her ass.”

Up to this point, Sigmarus had given up following the conversation, but he cocked his head slightly and glared out of the corner of his eye toward the man swinging his rat jerky around like some sort of lecturer. The man was a lustful good-for-nothing who always acted with zero manners. He and Sigmarus never got along. Because of their thorny interaction in the past, Sigmarus’ heart iced over as he anxiously focused on the man’s next words which verified his uneasiness.

“Compared to the other hussies who’re loose as shit, she’s way better. If you go there, you can just ask for a girl named Valerie. You won’t regret it if you do.”

Although a handful of the men shifted uncomfortably at the thought of using a younger girl, many of them smirked or raised their thumbs in support of the suggestion. Those who liked the idea sported lecherous gazes as they imagined devouring a new younger showgirl. One guy even stood and walked over to the man who mentioned it in order to pat him on the shoulder as though indebted to him.

“I like it,” Bob said. “How about we meet there together around nine tomorrow to have some fun before work?”

Many of the men nodded in agreement, though a few shook their heads and backed out. Despite the jeering of the guys who wanted to partake of a forbidden pleasure, the handful who decided against participating split off and made their own plans to visit some other brothel after work.

Further away, Sigmarus removed his gaze from the man who was proudly chewing on his jerky and stared at the floor with eyes glazed over. The nutrition bar in his hand suddenly crumbled, completely shattered in his clenched fist.

Fuck my life, he thought. If I hadn’t met that girl, I wouldn’t have cared, but now I’m fucking pissed. Fuck me and my damn morals.

If the guys here had mentioned some other girl, he could have brushed it off. He could have forgotten it and moved on with his mundane life. Unfortunately, an image of the girl’s bright eyes appeared in the back of his mind. Those eyes which still held hope had left a huge impression on his normally detached self. Helping her had been somewhat out of character for him, but he still reached out of his comfort zone after seeing those bright eyes. In hindsight, he knew it was because he was jealous of the fact that the girl obviously had something to live for. If a kid in a tough situation could have eyes like that, then couldn’t he also find something to live for? Still, even if he peeled away his reasoning, one thought remained.

Kids should be able to smile.

In his childhood, he still had hopes for the future. He had been able to smile. However, that smile quickly disappeared when he discovered that a child like himself with zero talents wouldn’t be allowed to live freely in the world. In contrast, that girl was able to smile even while suffering as a lowly muskrat. Regrettably, as time passed, that girl’s eyes would definitely darken if she suffered too much like everyone else down here. If one day he saw that girl, and her eyes lacked any light of hope, what would happen to the sliver of hope he had finally grasped? Imagining such a scenario heavied his heart. He felt like he would regret it if he left that girl to suffer after already helping her once.

After lunch ended, Sigmarus returned to work with a placid expression. The pain coursing through his chest and arms didn’t faze him. He worked like a robot. Over the next hour or so, his heart finally calmed down and he rationally contemplated whether or not he should actually try helping that girl some more. After all, she was a stranger. Was it even worth his time to help her hold onto her reason for living just to convince himself that he could find something similar without losing it?

Well, might as well do something about it once and then decide if it’s in my best interest to help beyond that.