The monsters kept appearing from somewhere. They killed them and ate them. By principle, they needed to eliminate the source. That was the only way to avoid the constant threat of monstersâor so the formal reasoning went. But no one moved.
What if they eliminated the source and monsters stopped appearing?
âWeâd starve to death.â
Or theyâd have to start eating humans.
Everyone must have been thinking the same. Even J thought so.
The skin of the survivors was growing paler and paler. Some had already turned completely white-haired. J could sense it instinctivelyâsomething was wrong, terribly wrong. They had to stop eating.
But how could he tell those who ate to survive to stop?
"Maybe you should stop eating. Doesnât your body feel strange?â
He cautiously suggested it, but the chilling stares that turned toward him froze his blood.
âWhatâs strange about it?â
The looks were terrifying. Cold sweat trickled down his back. J quickly shook his head.
âItâs nothing.â
Only then did their murderous gazes recede.
He began reducing his own portions, offering them to others. People were delighted to have a little more food. Some even praised him.
âAs expected of a hero.â
J laughed bitterly. Imagine being called a hero just for giving up food. Heroism seemed absurdly cheap hereâor maybe it was priceless in a place like this.
The hunger grew more severe. His stomach felt as if it were glued to his spine. He told himself to endure.
ââ¦â¦â
Enduring was hard.
He was hungry.
So, so hungry.