"Ten million credits," Vance said, his voice echoing in the silent hall. "I win the bid for the first course."
Greed tapped his datapad, authorizing the transaction. "A heavy price for an appetizer, Mr. Vance. Spend it wisely."
Vance didn't answer immediately. He sat back in his chair, his fingers drumming a slow rhythm on the armrest. He wasn't looking at the menu yet. He was looking at Gluttony.
I need to be sure, Vance thought. The smell of ammonia suggests a leak, but I need to see the plumbing.
He reached back and pressed his finger against the neural port at the base of his skull. He focused his will on the partition he had stolen from Envy.
[Ability Activation: Visual Parasite.]
A spike of white-hot pain drilled through his temples, as if a nail were being driven into his brain. His vision grayed out, static washing over his optic nerves.
Then, the world snapped back into focus—but it was wrong.
He was seeing himself from across the table. He saw a pale, small human in a blue suit, looking fragile and edible.
He was seeing through Gluttony's eyes.
Vance gritted his teeth, fighting the nausea of the dual perspective. He forced his mind to dig deeper, bypassing the optical feed and accessing the diagnostic overlay.
Red warning text scrolled across his vision.
[CORE TEMP: 620°C. COOLANT PRESSURE: CRITICAL.][INTERNAL MIXER: ACTIVE.]
Vance focused on the schematic of the stomach. It wasn't just a furnace; it was a high-torque industrial mixer. Massive tungsten blades churned at the bottom of the glass chamber, designed to grind fuel rods and bone into slurry for efficient burning.
Perfect, Vance thought. It stirs. If I put the right ingredients in, it will mix them for me.
He severed the connection.
Snap.
His vision slammed back into his own body. A warm trickle of blood ran from his nose, dripping onto his upper lip. He wiped it away with a napkin, hiding the tremor in his hand.
"Are you going to order?" Gluttony rumbled, steam hissing from his vents. "Or did the price tag scare you?"
"I was just admiring your engineering," Vance said, his voice raspy.
He picked up the menu tablet. He had the money to buy fuel rods. He had the money to buy uranium. Gluttony expected him to attack with heat.
Vance scrolled past the weapons. He stopped at the industrial supplies.
"I order for you," Vance announced, turning the tablet around. "The Deep-Sea Collagen Jelly."
Silence filled the room.
Greed blinked, looking up from his ledger. "Jelly? You spent ten million credits to feed him... gelatin?"
"It has a very specific texture," Vance said, his face a mask of polite indifference.
A droid wheeled in the dish. It was a massive, wobbling block of translucent, high-density protein, normally used as a lubricant for heavy machinery.
Gluttony stared at the dish, then threw his head back and laughed. The sound shook the chandelier.
"You are weak!" Gluttony roared. "You think filling my belly will stop me? My reactor burns everything! This is nothing but water and protein!"
Gluttony grabbed the massive block with one hand and shoved it into his maw. The hydraulic jaw crushed it effortlessly.
GULP.
Vance watched the glass chamber in the giant's gut. The mixer blades spun. The collagen hit the superheated core and melted instantly, turning into a thick, clear liquid that coated the bottom of the reactor.
One, Vance counted silently.
"My turn," Gluttony grinned, wiping the slime from his lips. "And I don't need to bid. I have the house advantage."
He tapped the menu.
"Blue-Ringed Fugu."
The dish was placed in front of Vance. The translucent slices of fish pulsed with a sickly blue light.
"Neurotoxin," Gluttony explained with sadistic glee. "It shuts down the sodium channels in your nerves. You will be paralyzed in thirty seconds. You will suffocate while fully conscious."
He leaned forward. "Eat. No gadgets. No chemistry sets. Just you and the fish."
Vance looked at the meat. He smelled the Bitter Almond scent of the toxin.
He had no choice. To refuse was to be shot by the ceiling turrets.
Vance picked up his fork. He speared a slice.
He put it in his mouth.
It tasted like licking a frozen battery. A wave of numbness exploded across his tongue, racing down his throat.
Vance closed his eyes. He didn't panic. He visualized his heart.
Slow down.
He forced his breathing into a shallow, rhythmic trance. He dropped his metabolic rate, slowing the blood flow that carried the poison. It was a technique he had learned in the slums to survive hunger, repurposed now to survive death.
He swallowed.
The cold knot hit his stomach. His fingertips went numb. His chest felt heavy, as if an iron band were tightening around his lungs.
He opened his eyes. His vision was blurring at the edges, but he was still sitting upright.
"Still alive?" Gluttony looked disappointed. "You have a strong constitution for a rat."
"I have a high tolerance for garbage," Vance lied, his voice barely a whisper. He gripped the edge of the table to stop his hands from shaking.
He had survived the defense. Now, he needed the second ingredient.
"Bidding for the second course is open," Greed announced, watching Vance with clinical interest.
Vance wiped the sweat from his forehead. The collagen was in the pot. Now he needed the binder.
"I bid twenty million," Vance rasped.