Guided by a garbage handler, we walked a long distance before we saw the outline of buildings. The garbage mountains around us had significantly reduced, and the streets were free of conspicuous trash. People set up small stalls along the roadside, selling items that looked less than new and crude handicrafts, likely recycled from the garbage heaps.
"In the real world," readers had analyzed the prototype of Meteor City, and although I forgot the specific name, it was also a city that lived by recycling garbage. The real-life photos of residents surviving among the trash bore a striking resemblance to Meteor City.
The original work described Meteor City too sparsely in its early stages. Readers could only infer its nature from the violent acts of the Phantom Troupe, who hailed from Meteor City, concluding it was a chaotic, bloodthirsty, and barbaric wasteland.
The manga later dedicated several pages to depicting Meteor City: rows of houses, clean streets, bodies properly laid out with flowers in churches, professional garbage handlers in protective suits driving garbage trucks, and the management and frequent meetings of Meteor City elders. All these details suggested that despite the poor living conditions, Meteor City wasn't as bad as initially portrayed.
Otherwise, how could Meteor City have developed a population of eight million? Considering its land area, some readers calculated its population density to be comparable to that of first-tier cities in the "real world."
If the environment were too harsh, so many people couldn't have survived.
Upon entering the street, the garbage handler removed his hood. The full protective suit must have been very hot; his face was covered in sweat.
He led us all the way to a pointed building with a cross ornament, presumably the church. A person dressed as a nun thanked him, "Thank you for your kindness. God will bless you."
"Oh," he emphasized, "there are two. I brought back two."
"Yes, that's right." The nun handed him something.
He happily accepted it, put it in his pocket, waved goodbye to us, and left without looking back.
The nun appeared to be around thirty years old, with regular features and an expression that blended seriousness and gentleness, making her quite approachable. She crouched down, looking at me and Illumi, "You're two unfamiliar children. You don't look like you're from other districts. Were you perhaps abandoned here?"
"Yes," Illumi said. "Just yesterday. My father abandoned me here with my older sister. We walked for a very long time."
Illumi, you revealed everything right from the start! Were you that honest?!
Oh, wait, it seemed there wasn't another choice. We knew very little about this place, and our demeanor must have been very different from the locals. Otherwise, how would the nun have immediately realized we were from outside Meteor City?
Lying from the first meeting might arouse suspicion. It would be better to pretend to be honest children, or in other words, "play dumb," to make the other party lower their guard.
"Playing dumb" is a very useful trick; I'm quite skilled at it.
So, I followed Illumi's words, nodding in agreement.
"Poor children, don't worry. We never turn anyone away, no matter where you come from, we will take you in." The nun placed her hands on our shoulders, "Before that, I think I need to know your names and ages, alright?"
"Illumi, 6 years old." Illumi tilted his head towards me, "My sister can't speak. Her name is Melos, and she's one year older than me."
The nun didn't ask further questions and led us into the church's interior corridor. Illumi tentatively asked her what she had given the garbage handler.
She said it was something like a voucher, which could be used at any time to exchange for equivalent supplies at the church.
Ah, compared to ethereal blessings from God, tangible vouchers are more appealing.
Through the corridor was the church's backyard. In the open space of about twenty square meters, four children no older than five or six were playing. They were all rather thin, clearly indicating the food here wasn't great. Their faces and clothes were covered in dust; any white had long since disappeared. Water was scarce in the desert region, and I suspected they might have only bathed once since birth.
The children greeted the nun one after another. The nun briefly introduced me and Illumi, bypassed them, and led us into the single-story building constructed in the backyard.
The building was made of brick. Although a bit dilapidated, its sturdiness should be adequate. Inside, besides wooden bunk beds, there was no other furniture. The cross nailed to the wall was the only decoration.
"There are two empty spots here; these will be your sleeping places from now on." The nun moved the clothes and blankets from the wooden bunk beds, leaving a gap of less than a meter in the corner.
"???" Illumi looked puzzled, "This is... a bed?"
It was understandable that the eldest son of the Zoldyck family, who lived a life of luxury, had never seen a dormitory-style bed. In his eyes, a simple row of wooden planks was hardly a "bed."
"Yes, these are your spots. Be careful not to cross the boundaries," the nun said. "Everyone gets along well; you won't find it too difficult to adapt. Also, arguing, fighting, and stealing are forbidden in the church, or you will be punished."
The nun took us to the warehouse to collect two blankets of a dark gray color. I suspected these blankets might be older than "I" was.
Along the way, she mentioned that the older children in the church were out for recovery work, which meant picking up garbage. They had to meet a minimum quota to receive food and water at the church the next day.
Since we were new and unfamiliar with everything, our work for the first day was waived, and we would be provided with food and water for today and tomorrow.
After we had claimed our spots on the bunk beds with the blankets, the nun led us to a room in another direction to collect food and water. This was the usual point of distribution. To prevent theft, the door was locked when no one was present.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," the nun said, bringing out a plastic cup half-filled with water. The cup itself was probably originally light blue, but due to prolonged use, it had turned a grayish-blue, like a cloudy day. "Drink slowly, no matter how thirsty you are. Water is precious, so be careful not to spill. This is one portion per person. In order of age, you first, little brother."
"...Thank you." Illumi took the cup, his movement towards his mouth hesitant.
Ah, I remembered Illumi being splashed with blood from practicing [Heart Steal] and his subsequent aversion to learning this traditional Zoldyck skill—he was quite a germaphobe.
Everyone has weaknesses. Although Illumi was often ruthless, in the face of his germaphobia, he couldn't be as heartless or as decisive.
So, he passed the cup to me, "I'm not thirsty. Sister, you drink first."
"..."
If Illumi would rather die of thirst than touch that cup, he would be an exceptionally ruthless person.
"What a good child," the nun said with slight surprise. "Don't worry, there's enough for both of you... Then, Sister, you drink first."
Taking the cup, the water inside was fairly clear, though whether it was because the cup had never been washed or due to the water quality itself, visible impurities floated within.
It wasn't Illumi's fault; this was truly not at a level that an ordinary person from a highly civilized society could drink without hesitation.
Wiping the rim of the cup with my thumb, the slippery texture confirmed it had been used by countless people.
Yes, in the material scarcity of Meteor City, sharing a cup was normal.
Never mind, let's be more accepting. This was the only water available, and it was much better than drinking urine out of desperation in survival-themed stories!
In the "real world," some of my classmates during my school days had a skill where they could drink water from a bottle without touching the rim. This was often used when borrowing water from other classmates. With quick and steady hands and careful pouring, they could catch the water flowing from the bottle's opening as it tilted. Those with less skill would accidentally pour all the water onto their faces.
Here it comes. I have to trust the body Zoldyck gave me. This body's reaction speed has been thoroughly trained, so mastering a skill that ordinary people can do should be a piece of cake.
Maintaining a distance of one centimeter from the rim, I tilted my head slightly and tipped the cup. It went more smoothly than I imagined, and I drank the entire cup without spilling a drop.
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh!!!!!!!!!
Licking my slightly dry lips, the taste of the water was acceptable, a bit astringent. Ah, don't aim too high; just having it is good enough.
Illumi, inspired by me, followed suit with the no-contact drinking method. He completed the entire process perfectly, his learning ability as strong as ever. However, he didn't have my mental fortitude and frowned after drinking, truly pampered.
Then the nun gave each of us a piece of dry bread, slightly larger than our palms, dark brown in color. It lacked the aroma of bread and was so dry that biting into it felt like chewing on a shoe sole.
Seeing that Illumi had no intention of eating the dry bread immediately, the nun specifically warned him that if he didn't eat it on the spot, other children might snatch it away.
Illumi ate half of it but found it too difficult to swallow. Seeing him struggle, I kindly helped him finish the rest.
Dinner was nonexistent; the church only provided breakfast and lunch. From Monday to Saturday, it was plain dry bread and water. On Sundays, there would be potatoes or cabbage. If someone was feeling charitable, there was a chance to eat sugar, biscuits, or even fruit.
Following the rules diligently would prevent starvation. In the water-scarce desert region of Meteor City, the orphanage's conditions were quite good. I had prepared myself for the worst-case scenario of cannibalism... just kidding.
Although I had plenty of ingredients in my game inventory, I hadn't tried eating any of them. Firstly, it was due to my collector's habit; I was reluctant to consume them before reaching the quantity of 999. Secondly, it was a promise with Silva that I wouldn't tell anyone or be discovered by anyone for the time being. If I couldn't keep even this small promise, I would be utterly useless.
Following the nun, we learned about the church's layout and various rules. As the sky gradually darkened, the children from outside began to return to the church, each of them dusty and looking like they had rolled in the garbage heaps.
I tried my best to distinguish them, but even after all the children had returned, I didn't find any NPCs who resembled the characters from the original plot.
Phew—no butterfly effect of Illumi meeting the Phantom Troupe members 18 years early. I was relieved, relieved!
There were no lights here; darkness signaled bedtime. Ten people filled the entire bunk bed perfectly. After closing the doors and windows, although the crowd made it noticeably warmer, an indescribable odor filled the air, likely the body odor of those who hadn't bathed in years and mingled with garbage.
I slept in the second-to-last spot against the wall. Illumi was second from last. In the darkness, he moved closer to me. I remembered him saying during the day that these children might have fleas or lice.
Oh boy, sleeping with eight dirty stray cats, are you scared, house cat Illumi?
Back then, I had Illumi ask the nun how often they bathed and if they felt itchy. The answer was that every Sunday, all the children would be wiped with a wet towel, and their hair would be treated with a specially formulated insect repellent. They didn't have to worry about fleas, lice, or itching.
It went without saying that the towel was shared by everyone.
The pungent smell of the special insect repellent made Illumi's face turn even paler.
The nun patiently answered all questions, and her words revealed her knowledge of the world outside Meteor City. Yet, she still chose to stay in the extremely impoverished Meteor City. She must have stayed voluntarily.
The original work mentioned that the residents of Meteor City had stronger feelings for their homeland and companions than ordinary people, which was probably the case.
Water was extremely scarce in the desert region. Unless the then 8-year-old Kuroro had a special way or came from a very good family... where there were people, there was hierarchy. It was said that the central district of Meteor City had the best living conditions... otherwise, he should have only bathed at birth, just like most other children.
It had that authentic feel; this game was so realistic it shattered my illusions.
Before the light completely disappeared, Illumi, lying on the bunk bed, swore to me with his lips that he would find a better place tomorrow.
Heh.