#3
Dawn in the Grave of Mercy arrived with thin fog and the sound of people coughing. Yu Ruishu woke early, his body stiff and shivering. His plan was clear: collect data.
He started with the basics—mapping the territory. The Grave of Mercy was larger than he had expected, divided into several "blocks" separated by piles of trash or open sewers. The block he was in—Mud Block—lay closest to the city's drainage channel. Another block, slightly higher and drier, was known as Stone Block. From quick observation, the people in Stone Block appeared marginally better clothed.
He also identified three key points:
1. The Distribution Post where Bu Lan handed out soup.
2. The Big Shack where local thugs gathered—a rickety two-story structure known as the "Rat Nest."
3. The main entrance and exit to the city, loosely guarded by two staff-wielding guards who looked bored.
He moved with his head lowered, playing the role of a confused beggar while his eyes recorded everything. The movement patterns of the Meat Collectors—he counted five of them rotating shifts—were his main focus. They usually appeared twice: early morning during ration distribution, and at dusk when people returned to their shacks.
As the sun climbed, he witnessed a scene that confirmed his fears.
An old man, coughing endlessly and walking with a limp, sat alone in front of his nearly collapsed shack. Two of the Meat Collectors—one with thick eyebrows, the other long-faced—approached with casual steps.
"Lao Zhang," said Thick Brows, his voice falsely kind. "Your cough is getting worse. Pitiful."
The old man lifted his head, eyes clouded. "I… I'll be fine. Tomorrow…"
"Tomorrow you might not be able to breathe," Long Face cut in. "We have an offer. There's a place near the edge of the city—a charity hospital. They can treat you. Warm food. A bed."
The old man hesitated, torn between hope and suspicion. "I have nothing to pay…"
"Free. On the City Lord's orders," Thick Brows said with a smile that never reached his eyes.
The process was smooth. Fast. Whether out of desperation or pain too severe to endure, the old man eventually nodded. They helped him up and led him away down a narrow path toward the exit. No one protested. Some turned their faces away. Others simply watched with hollow eyes.
Yu Ruishu recorded mentally:
Method: persuasion and false offers.
Targets: the sick and no longer productive.
Community response: resignation.
He was processing this when he felt a gaze.
Not an ordinary one. It was sharp, focused—and strangely aware. He slowly turned.
From between the broken planks of a half-burned shack, a pair of eyes stared at him. A child's eyes—perhaps a girl, ten or eleven years old. But not Rat's cunning survival gaze, nor the emptiness of other children. These eyes analyzed. She had seen him watching the old man. She had seen how he observed his surroundings.
When their gazes met, the girl didn't look away. She simply raised one finger to her thin lips.
Silent.
Then she vanished back into the shadows of the shack.
Yu Ruishu stood still for a moment. Who was she? Not an immediate threat—her gaze wasn't hostile. But not an obvious ally either. He decided to investigate—but not now. Too noisy.
He continued his audit. As he passed near the Rat Nest, he overheard raised voices inside.
"…we need more! This month's rations were cut. How are we supposed to pay their 'protection'?" a rough voice—likely the thug leader.
"But Lao Liu, people in Stone Block are starting to complain. They say we're taking too much—"
"Let them complain! What are they going to do? Fight the Collectors? Better we take from the weak here than let them get angry and slaughter us all!"
Collectors. Another name for the Meat Collectors. So even the local thugs feared them—and paid tribute. The system was layered like a pyramid, with the Grave of Mercy at the bottom, sacrificed as its foundation.
Yu Ruishu slipped away. New information: tension between Mud Block and Stone Block. A potential pressure point.
Throughout the day, he gathered fragments of critical information from the desperate conversations around him:
The Meat Collectors usually escorted their targets out through a side gate near the eastern wall, not the main entrance.
A "medicine peddler" occasionally arrived under thug escort, buying "special materials"—hair, nails, sometimes blood—from healthy people at cheap prices.
Tonight, there would be a "shipment," because a "great lord" in the city required fresh supply.
Night. Shipment. Fresh supply.
The words made his blood stir. He was potential "fresh supply."
He had to act tonight. Not to fight—but to hide, or secure temporary shelter. His mind raced. Stone Block? Maybe. But he wasn't known there. That could draw attention.
Then he remembered the girl's eyes.
The girl who had been watching him.
Did she have information—or was she a trap?
A decision had to be made. As dusk fell and the Meat Collectors began to reappear at their positions, Yu Ruishu chose to take the risk.
He slipped toward the half-burned shack. Its entrance was nothing more than a ragged cloth curtain. Carefully, he peeked inside.
The shack was dark—but orderly, unlike the chaos outside. In the corner, the girl sat chewing a piece of dry bread. Spread before her on a cleaned animal hide were several objects: carved wooden pieces with strange markings, smooth colored stones, and… a single strand of silver hair.
She looked at him, unsurprised.
"Come in," she said. Her voice was clear and calm—unlike other children's. "Close the curtain."
Yu Ruishu entered. The room smelled of herbs and earth.
"You're watching them too," the girl said directly. "You're recording. Why?"
"To survive," Yu Ruishu answered shortly, staying alert.
"You're different. You're not just afraid. You… think. Like me." She nodded at the items before her. "I read signs. I know they'll hunt tonight. And they have a list. You're on it."
Yu Ruishu's heart pounded, but his face remained neutral. "How do you know?"
"I hear. And I see." Her eyes, in the darkness, seemed to glint faintly. "They talked about 'the new one, thin body, eyes too sharp.' That's you."
"Then why help me?"
"Because I'm on their list too," the girl said calmly. "They think I'm just a strange child. But someone told their boss that I'm… 'special.' They'll take me as well—sooner or later." She looked at Yu Ruishu. "You have a plan. I can see it. And I have something you need."
"What?"
"A way out. And knowledge."
She introduced herself as Xiao Mei. She had lived with her grandmother, an old shaman who died a year ago, leaving her with fragments of knowledge about herbs—and more importantly—about tunnels.
"Behind this shack," Xiao Mei whispered, "there's a path downward. Grandma said it was an old escape route from wartime. It leads outside the walls—to the garbage forest."
An escape route.
But Yu Ruishu didn't want to merely flee. Running only delayed the inevitable. He needed leverage—or at least a position to bargain from.
"Are there others like you?" he asked. "Who observe? Who don't want to just be victims?"
Xiao Mei thought. "Yes. A few. But they're afraid. Or they've already given up."
"Gather them," Yu Ruishu said, his voice low but firm. "Tonight. Before the hunt. We don't need to fight. We just need to… make them miss."
The plan was simple—but dangerous. Use the tension between Mud Block and Stone Block, combined with the Meat Collectors' movement patterns, to create a small disturbance—enough to divert attention and force them to postpone the hunt, at least for tonight.
Xiao Mei listened, her eyes brightening. For the first time since her grandmother's death, someone didn't see her as strange—but as valuable.
"They'll come for us later," Xiao Mei said.
"Of course," Yu Ruishu replied. "But tonight, we have time. And time is all we need to plan the next move."
Outside, the sky had fully darkened. Heavy footsteps echoed through the narrow paths. The hunt was about to begin.
Yu Ruishu and Xiao Mei exchanged a look. In the girl's eyes, he saw a reflection of his own resolve. He was no longer alone. He had found his first ally—an unexpected one, with eyes too sharp and a hidden tunnel beneath her feet.
Defense was over.
Tonight, they would take a small, dangerous initiative.