Eater Blade: Grinding in Apocalypse-Chapter 50: SECTOR 6 — THE DEADLIEST ZONE.

The three of them headed back toward Savier’s coffin. Johnquis flicked his finger, checking the numbers in his vision.

"Sector 6 really lives up to its rotten name..."

Name: [Johnquis]

Rank: [Bronze]

Feed Count: [50,800 / 70,000]

He glanced at Dancer beside him, her blade-heel clinking through puddles.

"Look at that, Dancer. Five thousand in one street brawl. Can’t get a haul like that anywhere else. This place... it’s a whole different breed of hell."

Up ahead, Savier kicked through shallow puddles, splashing blood and rain. He weaved past the wrecked cars and dead Eaters until he reached his fallen coffin. The hatch was half cracked open, steam curling out into the cold afternoon light.

"Ah, home sweet coffin..."

He knelt down, wiped the grime off the edge, and popped it open. Inside, organ bites, blood packs, and a plasma-infused hydration flask were strapped down tight. He grabbed the bag and tossed it onto his shoulder.

Johnquis came up behind him, glancing down at the mess inside Savier’s coffin.

"You better grab every last drop of that, Savier. Otherwise you’ll last maybe a day out here... if you’re lucky."

Savier scoffed, rooting deeper into the supplies."Oh, don’t you worry, Johnkiss. Daddy’s gotta eat. This should be a month’s worth of feed... the Organization’s lovely little welcome gift. You’d think they’d wrap it with a bow. So it’d be cute."

Johnquis folded his arms. "No more unhealthy snacks now, Snackzilla. Back then you’d snatch noodles and junk food like a rat."

Savier laughed, flicking a blood pack with one finger. "Haha — before I got deployed? I made sure I ate a whole year’s worth of snacks."

"And look at you now, back to blood bags and corpse jerky. Real gourmet."

Savier pulled out a small organ bite, turning it over in his hand. He licked a drop of blood from his thumb. "Hate being on a diet... but if it keeps me breathing, fuck it. It’s dinner."

"You better, your skills eat through your blood. Burn it too fast and you’re dry before you’re half done fighting."

"Yeah, yeah. Use too much, get hungry. Get hungry, you get sloppy. Get sloppy, you die."

Savier stuffed the last blood packs into his pockets, patting them like they were prized candies.

"Well, what’s the fun in holding back? Better to bleed out swinging that sweet chain around, huh?" fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

He flashed a grin, teeth red where he’d bitten his lip.

Johnquis deadpanned. "You’re gonna chew through that supply in a week. Then you’ll be licking Eater corpses for scraps."

Savier just shrugged, slamming the coffin hatch shut. "I’ll lick more than that if it keeps me kicking. Besides..."

He tipped his chin toward the slit of sunlight breaking through the storm. "This world ain’t built for stockpiling. We’re all just meat in the grinder, brother. Might as well taste every drop."

Then he glanced at Dancer, a slow grin curling under his breath. "Taste everything..."

Savier’s grin curved into something crooked. He leaned closer to Johnquis, voice dropping to a taunting purr.

"So... where’d you dig up that smokin’ hot corpse? Huh?"

Johnquis glared. "Don’t even start—"

Savier laughed, running his tongue over his teeth. "C’mon. I know you. You got that taste. She bite before she moans, or moan before she bites? Little pet project, huh?"

Johnquis’ elbow slammed into his ribs — Savier winced, but the grin didn’t leave his face.

"That attitude and your filthy mouth? That’s why you never graduated on time."

"Oh, come on!" Savier clutched his side, wheezing a laugh. He jerked his chin at Dancer again, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Seriously — does she talk? Purr? Growl? Maybe you could share—"

Johnquis leaned in, voice like a knife. "She doesn’t talk. She rips out throats. Starting with yours if you keep running your mouth."

Savier gave out a ragged giggle, leaning back and clapping him on the shoulder.

"Ah, Johnkiss... you always knew how to pick ’em. Damn. That’s hot."

Dancer’s head tilted, eyes narrowing. She flexed her claws, just once, enough to make Savier’s grin slip, just a fraction.

Savier’s grin twitched, slipping for half a heartbeat before he caught it. He popped the hydration flask open, took a long, loud gulp, eyes locked on her the whole time.

"Mmm... yeah. Show me those claws, sweetheart. Fuckin’ long claws... love it..."

Savier slurped another mouthful from the flask, grin spreading wide. "C’mon, Johnkiss. You gotta share. Who is she really? Some pretty corpse you pulled outta a grave? A science fair project gone sexy?"

Johnquis didn’t answer right away. He stared at Dancer instead. She stood on the cracked pavement, water dripping off her foot-blade, head cocked like a curious wolf watching two prey animals fight over scraps.

Finally, he sighed, voice low. "You really wanna know, Savier? Fine. Listen close. Maybe it’ll shut that filthy mouth of yours and keep you from drooling for five damn seconds."

Savier barked a laugh. "Try me."

So Johnquis told him, about that first brutal encounter, the blood-soaked hunts, the price paid in flesh and trust to push Dancer past her limits — to force her into something more than just an Eater. To formed into a Lord.

He spoke as they walked, feet squelching through the rivers of blood and rain, the street a graveyard of corpses behind them.

The story dragged on as they made their way through what was left of the Southland’s biggest transportation hub — a huge dome of steel beams and shattered windows. Buses rusted in place like tombs. Broken tracks disappeared under pools of oily rainwater. Overturned vending carts lay like corpses. The last rays of the sun bled through the fractured ceiling, turning the filmy puddles gold and red.

Savier just listened. He dragged his feet through a puddle, pushing chunks of bone aside. His grin faded, bit by bit, until it was just a tight curl at the corner of his mouth.

Johnquis glanced at him. "You laughing now?"

Savier sucked his teeth, jaw ticking. "Nah... shit, Johnkiss... this story’s making my rotten heart feel things. Look at you — all grown up, spilling your guts like a real sad bastard. Makes me wanna hug you. Almost."

Updat𝓮d from freew𝒆bnovel(.)com