1. Notification
Eos tower - top floor.
Iason Mink's private apartments.
Morning.
When Iason's Furniture Daryl started his daily routine as he always did, by checking the terminal, he found within it a notice from security.
[Today at 12:00, replacement of the room's pet, as planned.]
As always, the orders were clearly given, but this time they were unexpected. And there were no comments from Master Iason himself.
For Tanagura Elites, "pets" were used to emphasize their status and were no more than an accessory.
The pets were created based on human proportions, but they possessed incredible beauty.
Purebred pets were artificially obtained using genetic engineering and had their own serial numbers, which were essential for every consumable item.
They considered themselves to be the hand-picked favorites of the elites, and they were kept in Eos, which was enough reason to be proud, but none of them wanted to admit that they were just a quickly replaceable, expendable material.
As for the pets themselves, they were so illiterate that they would hardly have understood the meaning of the word "expendable" at all.
A life as pet did not need knowledge.
Therefore, they never asked questions and did not worry about their position: such doubts simply did not occur to them. Perhaps that was what made them happy. And the key to the Pets' existence in Eos was undoubtedly the reverse side of this same coin:Furnitures, they all possessed an extensive knowledge base.
Daryl immediately responded to the message from security.
[Understood.]
And he sighed softly.
"Half a year? This has been the longest I've seen Master Iason keep a pet. "
He was there for ... six months, was it?
This time, it was half a year.
But Daryl knew he shouldn't be concerned with such things. A pet that had become unnecessary would be quickly disposed of.
That decision was made by the owner, who was Iason, and Daryl, in his position as Furniture, was not able to ask such questions as "Why?" and "What for?".
That behavior would be unacceptable and it would show disrespect for his master.
For Daryl, Iason was the absolute.
In Tanagura it was an obligation for Elites to own pets appropriate to their status.
In the cyber-city controlled by an artificial intelligence called "Jupiter," people of flesh and blood were servants to the Elites-- Elites who had artificial bodies, but who also had improved human brains.
For Iason, "pets" had always been indoor decorations to match his status.
Their very short shelf life was proof of that.
Academy purebred pets of the highest class were disposed of without hesitation every three months. Keeping pets was an obligation, and for the pets themselves - having been Elites' pets - their value was guaranteed to double.
According to records left by the previous Furniture, pets changed once a year, but since Daryl had begun his service, the replacement frequency had accelerated.
Daryl wondered how things might be in other apartments, but he could never know, because it was imperative that Furniture such as himself respect the Elites' confidentiality.
No, it would be more correct to say that he was not even allowed to think on his own.
To be a Blondy's Furniture was the highest honor, and Daryl-- because he never left any doubts about his competence-- had served as Master Iason's Furniture for two years already.
One of the most important duties that the Furniture had to perform was to ensure a comfortable and carefree lifestyle for all of the pets living in Eos.
⁃ Great obedience.
⁃ Complete ignorance.
⁃ Absolute shamelessness.
Those were a pet's three main virtues.
Education that fostered those virtues required considerable strength and patience.
Daryl was born and raised in a care center, where he used to take care of children younger than himself. But, compared with those children, obedient to the rules of the "Guardian"... Pets seemed to be creatures from a completely different world.
Their ignorance was not considered a flaw, on the contrary, they were proud of it.
Their price depended on the production center where they were born. And instead of literacy, they were taught a completely different group of skills.
And furthermore, patience was not in their nature.
Obedience to one's master was an immutable rule, and that being the case, all the heat went to the Furniture. Irritation, tantrums and bursts of anger were usual everyday occurrences.
Pets were allowed to act in such a way with the Furniture, but the opposite was not true. Even raising one's voice to a pet was unforgivable.
Traces of hickeys after mating parties were the only permissible blemish on a pet's skin-- otherwise, it should be polished to a shine and should not show even a scratch.
With all of these rules and regulations, of course, stress accumulated. But Furniture had no way out. Pets were under the patronage of their masters, and they obeyed them unconditionally.
It was not surprising that twenty percent of newbies did not complete their internship as Furniture, given that the people called 'Furniture' were considered to be only "furniture standing in a room"
Therefore, they simply needed to be faithful. Even if their efforts were not acknowledged, at least they could fulfill their purpose in life.
A pet was only considered to be formally owned by their master after their "debut". Before this event, in the period of so-called "adaptation", newcomers were allowed to meet with other pets while wearing a collar and a leash. Furniture would patiently hold the leash and take walks with the pets so that they could get comfortable in various corridors and rooms.
Simply put, it was an educational process.
There was no time set aside for any kind of "school" for pets, so the Furniture, through a system of simplified shapes and colors, taught them simple words. This was considered a kind of test for the Furniture themselves, to verify their ability to manage pets.
At a Pet debut, instead of its serial number, the pet received a pet-ring, which from then on would serve as its registration ID. Furniture themselves marked that event with a sense of accomplishment. And even joy. No ... rather, pride.
Before the scheduled debut, it was desirable for pets to get rid of their collars. The constant need for a collar would mean that the Furniture had been ineffective.
In Eos, the stigma of "uselessness" inspired fear.
Incompetent Furniture was the same as useless Furniture.
Pets were consumables, Furniture was room equipment. Unnecessary items were discarded without a hint of pity. Such was the way of Eos.
During Daryl's service, pets had changed every three months. But this was not at all due to his oversight: on such things, Iason never had the slightest reproach for him.
Therefore, it seemed that the high turnover rate was just something Daryl needed to get used to. In Iason's chambers, purebred pets were never any more than consumables. Needless to say, Daryl had never neglected his duties. He was proud to be Furniture.
Notification from security or not, the established daily routine did not change.
Clean up the rooms, prepare breakfast for the pet, wake up the pet at a suitable time. It was Daryl's everyday routine.
And being awoken from the sweetness of sleep was clearly not to Aaron's taste.
"Ugh, what do you want? Get out."
Aaron was thirteen years old, and the sound of his high, unbroken voice was almost a squeak. Usually he did not like to be woken up but that particular morning rising seemed to be particularly hard for him.
"I apologize. Your breakfast is ready", Daryl said calmly, trying not to disturb Aaron more than necessary.
"I don't want to," the boy said, turning over and covering himself with a blanket.
The combination of Aaron's scrappy temperament with the cheeky tone of his voice put Daryl in a bad mood.
Daily breakfast was the basis of the daily routine and healthy rhythm of a pet's life.
But the thing was, Aaron has recently begun to pick on Daryl.
And Daryl knew why.
The boy had not been allowed to go out for two weeks now, and he did not mate with anyone.
Aaron usually attended parties every three days or so, but not this month.
Had Aaron made a mistake somewhere? Or was he just tired? Or was there some other reason?
Daryl could not understand.
If a pet was not appointed as a partner, he could not participate in the party. A partner could only be appointed by the master. Pets did not have the right to ask for this, and of course neither did Furniture.
Nevertheless, Aaron allowed himself to show his displeasure, taking it out on Daryl as if he was to blame.
Participation in mating parties helped the pet become sexually mature and sexually experienced. In other words, it was a sign of their prestige.
They wore the hickeys on their bodies like orders and medals, showing them off at every opportunity.
And, conversely, the absence of kiss marks could bring ridicule and universal contempt.
Perhaps for this reason, Aaron had not left the room for several days and did not go to the common hall.
Of course, the neutered Furniture could not have anything to do with sex.
Accordingly, they had never attended those kinds of parties.
However, they completely understood what "those kinds of parties" meant. After all, they would wash pets after their orgies, cleaning every corner of their bodies.
Pets always said what they thought.
They would talk about where they had been, what they had done, how they had felt.
Ignorant pets did not even know what to call their own body parts, and that was why they had such a brave, shameless and cheeky language. In a sense, it was obscene. They thought that perfect shamelessness was the only correct thing, and it became the source of their dignity.
Naturally, pets were also free to discuss the negative things as well.
Who was the worst.
Who was terribly inept at caresses.
Whom they were no longer going to sleep with.
Who disgusted them.
Furniture must respect confidentiality.
Yet pets had no veto power. Daryl knew that not all of them were happy to be mated.
Furniture had to listen silently to their complaints and unhappy whining. Nevertheless, he always tried not to touch on personal topics, and to keep his distance.
Pets' arrogance, recklessness and excessive egocentricity was, in the end, justified (and tolerated) by the fact that very soon they would be used up and leave their chambers forever.
And then in three more months, it would happen again with the next pet. Aaron had been held for six months, and today it was decided that he would be disposed of.
He was not needed anymore.
Do not get close.
Do not get attached.
I did not see… - …I did not know.
Here is a lesson to all Furniture: keep your distance.
"Get out right now, Furniture!" Aaron lashed out.
The pet did not say Daryl's name. To the pets, the Furniture were nothing more than servants. Pets changed, but Daryl's position remained the same.
"Understood," said Daryl, with a nod, and he left.
The previous morning, Daryl would have somehow persuaded the boy to have breakfast. He would have forced him to get out of bed, despite his protests.
"Before security comes, it would be better if he had a full breakfast," Daryl mused.
Because he did not know the next time Aaron would be able to eat.
But it was too late now.
What happens to recycled pets?
Daryl didn't know. Furniture did not need to know, and those who knew would still not say it, and, frankly, he was not at all interested.
Furniture should not have any doubts or hesitation, otherwise they could be considered defective.
No sympathy.
No feelings.
Maintain neutrality.
Those were the inviolable rules of the Furniture. A person who was not able to control himself was unsuitable to this role.
And that was what they feared the most.
After leaving the room, Daryl copied the file containing Aaron's routine and daily activity (which he had updated every day-- another one of the Furnitures' duties), onto a micro disk. The file must be given to the members of the security force that were going to take the pet. With all the experience he had had with all of Master Iason's new pets, these processes had become a routine.
And then, not lagging behind the schedule by even a second, exactly at 12:00 PM a bell rang in the intercom.
At the door were three guards. Everything was as usual.
"Serial number AL-313078 must be removed."
Pets were not disposed of by name or registration number, but by serial number. At that moment, Aaron was no longer a pet, but just a thing.
Daryl let the three men in and escorted them to the boy's room. He opened the door for them.
Inside he saw the figure of a boy who, unaware of anything, was still sleeping in his pajamas.
The guard calmly removed the blanket and shook Aaron's shoulder.
"… go away," Aaron said, then opened sleepy eyes to say something else.
But ... instead of the familiar Daryl, he stared at a brutal, unknown stranger.
"…Who are you?" he said, his voice faltering.
"AL-313078, stand up."
If you were called by a name strange and unfamiliar to you, rather than with the one you had been called for half a year, could you really understand that people were talking to you?
Aaron didn't even blink.
"…I'm not..."
Feeling that something was going on, all thoughts naturally flew from his head.
"AL-313078, stand up," the guard repeated in the same tone, finally making it clear that they were addressing him. Aaron rose sluggishly and got out of bed.
And then a gray metal collar (which gave off a dim light) was fastened to the boy's neck.
It was a special collar to secure pets during disposal. Daryl was well acquainted with such a scene.
"… What? ... What ... is it? What's happening?"
Aaron did not understand anything.
Suddenly some strangers had entered his room.
They had called him by a strange name.
For no reason they had put some sort of collar on his neck.
What was happening? And why?
" I cannot…. understand."
Aaron watched in amazement as two burly security guards grabbed him from both sides.
"AL-313078 has been arrested. We're taking him away," the other guard reported to the center.
Captured and held by both armpits, Aaron hung in the middle of the two men, his feet not touching the floor.
"Whhhh…., whhhh… what ...? What ... do you need?"
The pet's pale face convulsed.
"I'm Iason-sama's Pet!"
Trying to hold onto to his assumed position seemed pitiful.
His statement did not work on the members of the security force.
"I said, I'm Iason-sama's Pet!"
Now bravado sounded less convincing.
And at that time Aaron noticed Daryl, who was standing outside the door.
"Furniture! Furniture! Furniture!" Aaron screamed at the top of his voice.
The boy arched his neck and jerked his legs, a scared look in his eyes.
Aaron could only scream. Since Daryl was a servant, then he could do something, was what Aaron thought. Of course Daryl must do something. After all, he was a servant - that was his direct responsibility.
But a moment later, the boy realized that everything was useless.
"No!"
Aaron began to weep.
The pet's boast turned into a cry of a silly child. He was dragged from the room sobbing, resisting, screaming at the top of his lungs.
A sad scene replayed over and over.
For Daryl, scenes like that were just a part of his ordinary life.
He could only stand silently with his head down.
"No! No! No! No! ... Stop …!"
The sound of a closed front door muffled Aaron's squeals.
And in the now-empty pet bedroom…
A quiet sigh came from Daryl's lips.
Not a sigh of pity. It was followed by another sigh.
Although the pet was no more, there was still a lot of work to be done. First of all, he needed to clean up Aaron's former room.
He took the blanket that had been used by the boy and threw it on the floor. Next he pulled off the sheets that still kept the warmth of Aaron's body. He replaced the pillow.
"How many months will the next pet be kept?" he wondered.
At that point, that was the only thing that interested him.
2. Insolence
For the Elites of Eos, attending the debut parties where new pets were exhibited was absolutely vital.
After all, such parties were the only social event uniting Elites of all ranks which were classified by hair color and length.
The ever-busy Elites rarely met and such parties were a good occasion to make business contacts with each other.
While always respecting the chain of command, of course. That was already obvious, since the location of one's seat strictly corresponded to the rank of one's class.
To pass time before the performances started, Iason, after joining everyone in the hall that was set aside for Platina and the higher Blondies, greeted Raul with a small nod and took a seat beside him.
He had last seen Raul three weeks ago. And precisely because of the forced attendance at these events, they met at least once a month.
"Iason. Did you get rid of another pet again?"
It seemed that there may have been some surprise in Raoul's voice.
"Well, what a warm welcome," Iason said, calmly glancing at him.
One must display one's pet at a debut party-- that was a well-known rule, but Iason had disposed of his just a few days earlier.
"I kept it for half a year," he said.
Iason knew that coming to the party meant he'd be the target of some of Raoul's cutting remarks.
"Don't sell a purebred Academy pet so easily."
This was Raoul's true opinion.
Yes, pets were only expendable status accessories, but Iason with his three-month turn-over rate clearly went too far.
"There is nothing that can be done. The request for pets with Academy serial numbers is high in Midas."
Perhaps it sounded like an excuse, but it was quite justified. That was the way of Midas.
Calling that city the center of the pet industry of the entire galaxy was no exaggeration.
The most outstanding products of said industry were purebred pets produced by the Academy. They were designed to look like children of the human race and, until a certain age, were grown in capsules without using any training methods. On top of that, they were an exclusive luxury item that could only be purchased at a pet auction.
"How much more expensive would one of those pets become once it was known that they had been a former pet of Iason Mink?"
It was a serious consideration.
Iason was well-known as the head of the Information and Marketing Department. As for Raoul Am, members of the Galactic Federation called him the "Mad Scientist."
At the mere mention of "A Blondy of Tanagura" as a former owner, the cost of the pets immediately skyrocketed, regardless of their serial number.
This was because the thirteen Tanagura Blondies were representatives of their creator – the artificial intelligence known as Jupiter.
By scanning the serial number on a pet's foot, one could determine its pedigree, the history of its former owners, and its certificate of evaluation.
Moreover, pets held in Eos were made to wear a precious piece of jewelry called a "pet-ring". And the status of a being a Blondy's pet caused an inordinate feeling of envy in all onlookers.
Raul said, "Even without seed rights, a male with such a serial number has an excellent breeding potential."
Artificially derived children had a unique genetic code, they could not be cloned. Therefore, they were one of a kind, and they were grown for a specific commissioning.
Yes, they had reproductive abilities, but due to the way their genetics had been constructed, their fertility was extremely low.
If male pets had seed rights, they could be resold to the Midas brothels as potential inseminators.
An artificial child retained its pure blood, even if his mother's breed was several classes lower. But that was only possible if the undesirable factor, the so-called lethal gene, was not passed down to the child.
For female pets, there was a limit to childbearing, whereas males' period of fertility was not limited. That was true, at least, in theory. Yet, while in children born from a female with a serial number, the dominant gene was clearly pronounced, in children born from a serial numbered male their genes has a 50% probability of recession. That was why purebred females, with their reproductive ability, were much more expensive than purebred males.
And that was why a child born from the merger of two Eos purebreds, as a rare specimen, was rated extremely highly.
Iason responded, "Well, for me-- unlike for you-- the point of owning pets is nothing more than one of the Blondy obligations."
"Is the ruler of the global market... fed up with sex-crazed pets?" said Raoul.
"Ah, pets. They are not merely premium class consumables, they also carry value of a contemplative and decorative nature." Which, to Iason, meant that they were barely more than an annoying eyesore.
"Indeed, your... pecularities... are known to all."
It was obvious to Iason to whom Raoul was referring.
"Someone's origins can be helpful if you use the right person in the right direction," Iason said, thinking of Katze. "That's what a peculiarity is."
And that much was true.
There was a lot of controversy surrounding Iason's allowing Katze, the former furniture, to avoid punishment for a serious crime and even to instate him in a job on the black market, but Iason held his ground. Although such a decision had been extremely risky – very much a hit or miss - the fact remained that Katze now held a high post.
"Yes, of course. That particular 'subject' was very helpful."
"Oh, you've praised him. I must, perhaps, pass on your compliment-- directly to Katze."
Raoul frowned.
Iason smiled thinly with a corner of his lips, while all of the pets were paraded before his eyes.
Among them was Raul's new pet, whose debut had been announced a few days earlier.
As a rule, pets in their debut were dressed in all the relevant paraphernalia-- including a collar with a leash-- and they were supposed to meekly sit at their master's feet. Whispering was strictly forbidden, and without the owner's personal permission, they had no right to say even a word.
However, today there was no such discipline in the room. Perhaps because of their nervousness before the performances, the pets started chattering amongst themselves.
"Your pet seems to be very popular," Iason remarked.
"Of course," Raoul said. "Mimea is a purebred representative of the Bergerac lineage. Among all of the academy pets, her serial number is of the highest class."
Raoul was not seduced by Iason's praise. Instead, he was shining with all his arrogance, and he made it clear that there was nothing less than perfection to expect from his pet.
Iason said, "Line Bergerac- is that the breed that you had a hand in improving?" That would explain Raoul's enthusiasm for his new pet. By his undisguised attitude towards Mimea, for Iason, the answer to his question was quite obvious.
"You're correct," said Raoul. "Getting such deep purple eyes is not easy. What do you think? Isn't she beautiful? Don't you think so?"
Talking about one's own work with such vanity was surely a sign of obsession.
"Yes, she is. The representative of the line Bergerac with this gleaming gaze, comparable to precious stones."
And that was not just a compliment.
Violet eyes, symbolically speaking, meant "a noble origin".
Their wet glow was one of their best features. And as for the mixing of blood, that delicacy would perfectly pass on to the next generation. After all, the mixing of two different eye shades better reflected emotions-- which was something that Elites could not have in any way, with their artificial, evenly pigmented irises.
Raoul nodded in satisfaction.
"I will look forward to Mimea's offspring," Raul remarked.
"Really? Well…"
Suppressing an inner grin, Iason tried to keep the conversation going. "Have you decided to mate her with anyone?"
"Not yet. There is still time. I'll think it over carefully."
That was said with the highest degree of seriousness, and in this Raoul was different from the rest of the Elites.
"There is no need to hurry with the choice of a partner."
"I'll probably start the selection right here," Raoul said calmly.
"In any case, it is worth waiting for the end of her successful debut."
"...It's a complicated question."
"What, exactly? Choosing a candidate for Mimea's mate? Mixing with her blood should be an honor."
It seemed that the conversation had moved beyond formalities.
"What kind of male would you suggest?" Raoul asked.
"What about pairing her with a purebred Silurian?"
"No, not yet..."
If Iason remembered correctly, the Silurian was Aisha's pet.
Raul, of course, wanted to choose the best and most noble blood to mix with Mimea's.
"Luvit was the last in the Silurian line, up to that point, but, apparently, a new Silurian, Thierry, will be presented at the next pet auction."
"Are you suggesting that I buy him?"
"Isn't such a pearl worth the honor of being Iason Mink's pet?"
"... I," said Iason, "will consider it."
Immediately after Iason finished speaking, a soft chime rang through the hall. The party was getting started.
When the elites stood up, all of the pets who had been nestled at their masters' feet and chatting incessantly, began to get ready to go.
Raul took Mimea by a leash and slowly walked forward.
The ceremony was no different from all previous ones, if one didn't take into account that Iason had recently discarded his pet and was therefore alone.
"What about unusual breeds?" said Raoul, as if having guessed Iason's thoughts.
"For example?" said Iason.
"Let's see. How about newer ones from the Solange line, with the plumage, or from the Beld line with a tail?"
From such discussion at a party such as this, those pets might seem to be interesting specimens, but as a matter of fact it would be extremely troublesome and irrational to keep them in Eos.
"It looks like the Chimera line will not be a hit in Eos after all," said Iason.
There was no specific pattern in the choice of varieties of pets, but everyone hoped that each particularly eye-catching acquisition would help them stand out. Nonetheless, what the Elites really did not welcome was bad taste.
"Speak for yourself."
"… Hmm. Well, everybody has their own quirks."
Raoul kept silent.
And then, by chance, Iason recalled the mongrel he had encountered in Midas.
"The fact is," he thought to himself, "I'm the last person who should blame him for such things."
When he thought about it, he was sure that it had all been simply a whim. Recalling Raul's statement about his pecularities-- his particular taste-- Iason grinned to himself. In the end, his taste had gone too far.
How proud and insolent that half-blooded slum mongrel had been, even knowing that a Blondy himself was standing in front of him.
"I hate being in debt to someone! And especially to such an elite jerk like you! "
What a brave brat he had been.
Furthermore, the boy himself had called a Blondy such as Iason to a shabby love hotel in the outskirts of the city, trying to buy Iason's silence with his own body.
"Fine, okay. You can run away with your tail tucked between your legs... Anyway, no one can see."
How bold and naive that stupid boy had been.
"I ... am ... not ... a toy!"
Through his sweet moans of pleasure, he had still tried to be insolent.
So, of course, Iason had mercilessly teased him until he'd put the boy in such a state that he could not even stand on his feet. To teach him his place and punish him for such a provocation.
"Well, at least, a little fun like this may dispel my boredom."
Let him be content with the fact that he was still alive.
Although, Iason had to admit, that slum mongrel who did not bend, who did not look away, and who defiantly looked a Blondy straight in the face had turned out to be a rather amusing innovation. Without any particular straining, Iason had squeezed everything out of the boy.
And that Aurora coin, thrown at the boy's feet, had not just been a whim, but also for fun.
The Aurora coin was a particular type of coin also known as the "coin of the pets." The emblem of Tanagura was carved on it, and it consisted of 99 percent pure gold.
But since the territory of its use was limited, that coin had absolutely no value on the market.
…Well, nearly. With proper marketing, a slum mongrel could use the coin to instantly turn into a rich man. Of course, that was only if he should recognize its true value.
A fortnight later, when Iason had asked Katze whether the Aurora coin had shown up anywhere in the slums, the answer had been "no." There were no traces of Aurora coin trade and resale in Midas.
"Given the unique nature of the coin," Katze had claimed, "if it was traded, its name would immediately come up. As soon as it fell into the hands of a competent seller, it would become obvious how valuable it was. "
Judging by Katze's claims and his survey of the slums, the coin was still in the hands of that mongrel.
Or maybe, in the heat of his anger, the boy had just thrown it away without knowing its value ...? That, too, was not unlikely.
Or perhaps Katze was wrong.
So why was Iason so interested in the coin?
"If Iason Mink is asking about this, it's clearly not a joke. After all, special coins like this are only in use in a limited area, " Katze had said.
Kaze's former position as furniture spoke for itself. He did not need an explanation of what the Aurora coins were used for.
That coin was also called a "medal" because it was given as a reward to pets after they had participated in mating parties a certain number of times. As such, it had no real value as currency.
However, by selling it to the right party, one could have made good money off of it. After all, it was a rare gold coin. There would always be fanatics ready to pay any amount for it.
Some particularly sought-after copies of Aurora coins (the originals of which could not be obtained at auctions) were exhibited in the luxurious Midas brothels, together with a photo and a profile of the sold pet. To the owners of the brothel, the coin and the pet's ring were so-called trophies, showing the status and luxury of their establishment.
Katze had said,"By the way, where in the slums are you expecting the Aurora coin to be? Why do you think that it should appear in such a place where its conversion into money is absolutely unthinkable? "
Usually Katze did not raise such meaningless questions to Iason.
Of course he didn't, because he was so rooted in the nature of "furniture". When Iason had decided his fate by setting him up in the black market, the noose of absolute obedience to his master began to tug on him with double the force.
The scar on his left cheek, (because of which he was called "Scarface"), bound his neck with invisible chains. A heavy burden pressed down on Katze.
But still. Until now, the Aurora coin had only entertainment value for Iason. What if the mongrel, due to his ignorance, had really thrown a fortune into the garbage– well, so be it. Such a thing was of no major importance.
Even so, the task of keeping an eye out for the Aurora coin, even without any thinking about all that, had caused Katze to ask himself "What for?".
…What for?
…Why?
Iason kept mulling such questions over in his head.
Residents of the "ghost zone" outside of Midas had no official ID. And if there was no ID certifying your origin-- then you could not see a bright future.
Life in the areas outside of the Midas official map was far from a dream.
And no matter how hard one tried to break through the wall of alienation, nothing would come of it. You just stayed on the other side of the door with no hope for the best.
Such a lack of freedom, in the name of freedom. Rotting in the swamp of life, along with thousands of other guys like you.
That was what it was to be a slum mongrel.
... Where from?
…About that?
... so many thoughts?
Despite these thoughts, there was no clear answer.
" What for?"
"Why?"
Iason also dismissed his own questions as pointless.
Could emotions have fogged his mind?
...Impossible.
That wouldn't happen to a Tanagura Blondy, was what he thought.
That was why he gave Katze his order. To use that mongrel, who had so brazenly provoked him, as a pawn of the black market. Iason wanted to understand what foreignness had crept into the back of his mind.
Coal black hair. Shameless black eyes. The insolent look of a slum mongrel.
By that superficial description of the boy's features, Katze had already started wondering who the boy could be. And on occasion one could see the mask of his imperturbability fly off for an instant.
Even though Katze had been born in Ceres, he had never lived in the slums, so he could hardly be familiar with this mongrel. That realization sparked even more interest.
How to accomplish these orders was left to the Katze's discretion.
Regardless of the results, a detailed report was required. That was a strict order.
And finally, after some time and although there was no trace of the coin, that mongrel was found.
His name was Riki. He was the leader of one of the best gangs of the slums. On top of all that, Katze set him on an intricate task-- which he solved-- which proved that he was clever.
So far, Iason was pleased. And his modest curiosity had been satisfied.
After that, Katze continued to send detailed reports on Iason's request.
The seed, sown only by a whim, took root, then sprouted and would soon start producing unexpected fruit. That was the way things had gone.
Even slum garbage, which, apart from rotting alive, had nothing left, could be transformed in its own way if properly nourished. Which was what had happened.
But after a while, Iason began to feel a little wary.
That mongrel, who was clearly some kind of impudent, brazen brat, had turned out to be quite cunning, which Iason had not expected. What if Iason someday got tired of watching him from afar?
In this case…
...What would he do?
There was no answer to that question. Not yet ...
After all, the boy was a slum mongrel. Watching him was just like watching a pet, but the conditions were very different. Therefore, any further developments were completely unpredictable.
But that unpredictability sparked Iason's interest... which in the future would go much further than an interest in simple amusement.
"Specific taste... is it?" Iason smiled with one corner of his lips. "Well. It should be diverting."
With those thoughts, Iason approached the table reserved specially for Blondies during debut parties, and took a seat.
Chap 3
Oddly, Darryl couldn't keep calm since the morning of the day lason brought back his new pet. Something like that had never happened before.
Usually a new pet would be placed in the medical center for few days and was subjected to a final medical examination. If everything was fine, a furniture would come and collect the pet. The new pet would wear a collar with a room number on it as its temporary ID marking it as Blondie's pet.
This was routine for all the rooms. There was no favoritism even for the most powerful Blondie in Tanagura.
Nevertheless, it was different this time; for Master to personally bring the pet home was an exceptional case. Furthermore, after this sudden irregular arrangement, the pet was not brought from medical center and Daryl hadn't acquired any pet's profile and only received notification yesterday.
Why? How come? This is improbable.
In Eos, everything was strictly regulated to the very details.
As long as furniture referred to the manual without making mistakes, there would be no interference in the daily routine. And yet, on a few occasion, accidents happened that the manual did not account for, just like this time.
It was an inviolable rule that a furniture must never doubt his master's words or behavior. But this time situation was discordant with Eos rules. The only thing the same as always was lason coming back at night and not informing Daryl the exact time of arrival.
The daily life of a furniture basically revolved around the pet.
During the period of pet replacement, it was undeniable that a furniture felt, one way or another, he had nothing to do. If he had the pet's profile, he could prepare himself in advance for any situation, but this time, even the pet's profile had not been sent to him.
He used to be nervous when he'd first welcomed the pet, just like an actor being put on the stage without any preparation. Although he had become more experienced, he really couldn't hide his nervousness now. He repeatedly checked the pet's equipment, which usually would be done once. His hands stopped and he let out heavy sigh when he realized this.
It was somehow too much pressure and Daryl suddenly came up with a possible explanation for this occasion.
When lason was replacing his pets every three months, for Daryl the question of whether lason was testing his ability has always been present. Daryl was consistent in his attitude towards a pet, after much thought he could still keep his feet on the ground,
Nevertheless, this was irregular without any warning. Considering all the facts, Daryl was quite shocked to feel all the skills he had built up so far were somehow inadequate. He used to think it was a tacit rule that the Master wouldn't inform him anything. But now he felt tremendous pressure.
Is this the reason why I felt the pressure or not?
Am I just thinking too much?
Feeling he was far from ready to be a Blondie's furniture, Daryl released another heavy sigh. And then, it was past 21:30; the door chime rang indicating his Master's return.
Daryl could hear auto lock on front door while his heart was pumping loud and hard. He stood straight and stiff waiting for inner door to open.
--Welcome back, my lord.
The moment he opened his mouth to greet him as always, an unknown face abruptly appeared and foul words could be heard:
"You bastard! Let go of me!"
Daryl was startled and petrified, his eyes widened; an impossible scene started to unfold before his eyes.
"Cut it out! Take this fucking nasty stuff off!"
The disheveled boy was yelling while restrained and half dragged by lason into the room. His black hair seemed unkempt like as if he never took care of it. He was wearing black pants, worn black boots, a shabby black jacket and even what he was wearing underneath was black.
(All in black...)
As his vision grew heavier, Daryl involuntarily held his breath.
He was looking at Riki with astonishment; he was used to seeing other pets in gorgeous and highly exposing outfits.
At the same time a collar emphasized whiteness of Riki's slender neck even more. Despite being the same type of metal-crafted collar that Aaron was wearing when he was taken away, it gave an entirely different impression to the viewer now that it was carried by different person.
It seemed more like a shackle on Riki.
No - maybe it was a shackle, the design of the chain lason was holding in his hand was unfamiliar to Daryl.
Ehh??
The initial surprise had been replaced by further bewilderment;
Daryl was staring hard at Riki, finding himself even more petrified.
Though Daryl knew lason was coming back tonight with his new pet, "this" was still entirely unexpected.
What on earth! What kind of joke is this?
Daryl could not tell whether this was black humor that failed to make people laugh, or a bad sideshow that had gone too far. The impact brought by the vision was too strong for his brain to process quickly enough.
"You...Son of a bitch! ! !
Intolerable, abusive language spread to every corner of the room; unclear words mixed with slang from the Slums made Daryl's face green. An endless stream of ridicule had been thrown at Daryl by bad tempered pets, but still, those seemed like cute tweets compared to this heavy punch.
Daryl had never known, seen or heard such a reckless challenge, reviling a Tanagura Blondie. Instead of being enraged, lason took no notice of it, regardless how much cursing was thrown at him.
He retained his aloof expression.
As to be expected, Daryl's insides grew cold. How things would develop from now on was totally unpredictable. Daryl did not know what to do; he could only stand there paralyzed.
And then, all of a sudden he realized that he hadn't even said his greetings. This was such a disgrace. He was nervous to the point his palms become cold and start sweating.
Usually, when master came back, Daryl would stand straight, hang up the lason's coat and bag and promptly go straight towards closet and returned with loungewear; then he would wait for next instructions. However, now Daryl's face was still twisting; he could do nothing but stand frozen.
Had lason noticed Daryl's disgraceful behavior? He had not glanced at Daryl since entering the room. The struggling stopped as the boy lason had brought finally seemed tired of it.
"Daryl." Iason's aloof voice released Daryl from his frozen state.
Daryl took small steps forward and did not make any eye contact with Master; staring into the eye of Master meaninglessly was not allowed, thus he waited for instructions with downcast eyes.
"This is my new pet."
Sure enough, this boy is the pet.
Daryl braced himself to take responsibility after hearing instructions directly from lason but he felt a heavy pressure fall upon him. He lifted his eyes just a bit and cast a quick glance at Riki.
(Am I going to train him?)
To train this Blondie's rude, wild boy who doesn't seem like he's a Blondie's pet?
... I can't do that.
If Daryl had the right to refuse, he would have immediately exercised that right.
"I'm not a pet!!"
Along with the angry roar, a blow to Daryl's stomach was delivered.
"Hmm
...Ah!"
Daryl broke out in a cold sweat from the sharp pain and slumped to the floor groaning. His heart was beating so strongly it felt like it was beating in his throat; he even felt like his temple split.
He never knew pain could be that intense.
When one would be was slapped by pet which were a pet that was purely cultivated to be powerless, it was merely like a frown.
But now, this was not the case. His back bone hurt terribly, his brain seemed to be paralyzed, the pain swept through his body like a whirlpool. He felt sore, dizzy and nauseas.
Just as expected: it would be absolutely impossible to train this boy.
Daryl gritted his teeth and endured the pain with teary eyes.
He did not know where this rude Barbarian came from but what he knew was he didn't have the ability to train him.
Why? For what reason? Is this boy really going to be a pet?
Is there any special reason why it has to be this boy?
Daryl couldn't know lason's reasons and why he wanted this boy for pet; it was so absurd that he could only consider this as a caprice.
Unreasonable. Ridiculous. -- This was reckless. However one look at this, there was no chance of winning this risky game.
But even so--
"Stand up. Daryl," lason ordered ruthlessly.
Daryl clenched his teeth tightly, staggered to his feet, cautiously taking a half-step back.
"He is a mongrel that hasn't gone through any training, but starting from today, he is my pet."
"I've said I'm not a pet!!! "
Like a conditioned reflex, the boy bellowed at lason but only to abruptly choke his words back as lason skillfully fastened the dark grey collar while telling him to be silent.
Daryl always thought putting collar on pet which were a pet that was being disposed of was just for show, to intimidate other pets.
In fact, lason changing pets every three months was so familiar security guards never needed to use force and choke to threaten the crying and screaming pets, the reason why Daryl had never known the collar had been equipped with this function.
However what shocked Daryl even more was when he was told that the boy in front of him was -- a "mongrel".
(mongrel ...?)
The most powerful one in Tanagura, is keeping a mongrel?
What a joke!
He is simply carrying a bad joke too far.
It was obvious that pets were accessories to replace the a badge of rank; then why pick a mongrel instead of pure bread pet?
He really felt the need to doubt lason's sanity although he knew it was disrespectful to think do so. Elites had an obligation to choose a pet to match their own official position. This was the usual practice in Eos .
But why -- do such a foolish thing?
Daryl could only treat it as a nightmare. However, if master had decided to do so, as a furniture, he had no other choice but to fully accept it.
"Yes, sir. Nice to meet you; I'm Daryl."
Now that things had come this far, Daryl gave a perfect, deep bow as a welcome ceremony to greet the boy, treating him as any other pet that had been kept in this house so far.
"Riki, this is the furniture taking care of you from now on."
At that moment, Daryl felt like his brain was pierced with invisible spikes; he looked up with surprise. Pets were only called by name after attending the coming-out party; therefore, Daryl felt a sense of irregularity in the fact that lason had already started to call his pet by name.
But no, this was not even all.
Riki.
The name brought to his mind other things.
For Daryl, this name was the gateway to the sealed past and meanings full of nostalgia. And now he finally took a good look at the youth who had kicked him.
The boy restrained by lason exposed fearlessly his displeasure in eyes behind bangs and was looking Daryl straight in the eyes.
No...he was threatening him.
As if to say -- "I am not going to be a pet for sure!"
"Master Riki...?"
As Daryl called out the name, old, long forgotten memories from the past became clearer.
Pure black hair.
Dark pupils that reflected the depths of darkness.
The one that had stood out supremely among others at Guardian once.
He neither allowed others to get close to him,
-- nor himself to get close to others.
The kid with the unyielding gaze,
keeping to himself but still unwillingly attracting attention.
Many years had passed since then; the face Daryl had known in the past now flashed across this defiant face.
Daryl had even forgotten the pain of being kicked by Riki just few moments ago; he was staring at Riki with his eyes wide opened.
There was something rising, coming up slowly from the bottom of his heart.
--Impossible
That Riki becomes Master lason's... Pet?
Why?
This can't possibly be true.
Impossible.
These words kept spinning around in Daryl's head.
He never felt proud to be one of the small group of outstanding people selected from the Guardian when once he knew what furniture was. He didn't even have the slightest sense of superiority.
Not to mention the possibility of Ceres resident becoming a pet, which was higher in social class than the furniture, equaled zero.
Although Ceres was located in Midas, it was rather a ghost district than part of Midas. Daryl didn't know the truth until he first came to Eos from Guardian.
Then, how did Riki become a pet? Daryl had no idea.
Now, the scene Daryl was looking at was more like illusion than reality. He just stood and stared at Riki's face without even blinking.
Chap 4
Ahumanoid pet bom in a breeding facility and centified by Tanagura,
- was an item rather than human. They were just commodities being produced for the purpose of the pet auction.
Minimal discipline was certainly given during the manufacturing process but no further education was required for a pet.
Pets would simply be replaced once the master got bored. It was not necessary for them to have knowledge or common sense. They only needed to be obedient and as long as they were promiscuous until the disposal date, that would suffice.
This was common knowledge amongst the elite who treated the pets as a substitute the badge that showed their status, and the basic idea for the subsidiary furniture who were responsible for looking after the pet.
—-Nevertheless,
Daryl's daily life transformed utterly when Iason personally brought
Riki, who was born in Ceres, back as his new pet.
The shock couldn't simply be compared to the feeling Daryl got when the training manual was no longer viable, in a sense, it was as if all the skills he'd mastered so far had vanished.
How on earth did such a thing actually happen?
He had a migraine and his head was buzzing since last night when he dealt with the expanding query.
He didn't understand how the Blondie Iason could ever encounter the Ceres resident Riki.
Where and how on earth, two points that never intersected came across each other?
He couldn't come up with a possible answer and yet still couldn't help thinking even if in vain.
He couldn't see how this actually happened. Being raised in the Guardian, there was no opportunity for Daryl to know the outside world before he was selected as furniture, as a household appliance in EOS. He couldn't imagine what kind of life Riki had experienced after leaving Guardian.
The only way of living Daryl knew, was being castrated as furniture.
Being furniture, he had no time to spare on picturing the future of others who graduated from Guardian at the age of thirteen.
However now, he had no choice but to confront his past which should've been sealed up.
He ground his teeth; the absurd feelings that couldn't be rationally controlled welled up. It was almost unbearable if he didn't clench his teeth tightly.
He'd never imagined the past would come hot on his heels.
There was neither going back nor return to the past. He'd lost his name and the symbol of a man. He resigned himself to his fate and sealed his past, he could only accept his destiny.
Daryl knew exactly what the future was for the pets in EOS, but even though he realized, he never put it in his heart, not until now.
Pets were only living things. Furniture and pets were basically incompatible with each other despite both being the accessories of the household
And yet Daryl knew Riki from Guardian. Because they were different ages, they were assigned to separate blocks, therefore he only saw Riki from far away and thus never spoke a word to him. Riki probably didn't know Daryl but Daryl had always remembered him.
Relative to an utter stranger, a pet with a manufacturing serial number inscribed on, the heat in Daryl's eyes was different when he faced Riki who shared a common root with him.
As a result, he could no longer remain indifferent towards Riki.
He couldn't simply see things fiom a rational point of view just like before. Harrowed by feelings like that, Daryl feared to an extreme.
The room assigned to Riki -- no, it should be said, the room that Riki was hauled and forced to stay in, its extravagance was beyond comparison to Riki's apartment in the slum.
This high-ceiling, bright and spacious room was filled with a sense of purity, and therefore Riki couldn't feel at home. He didn't know where to look or how to calm down.
He was pacing back and forth agitatedly. Looking out from the sash window made of durable tempered glass, Riki overlooked the night view of Tanagura.
(Damn it!! Why did I end up in this place?)
His hands banged against the window.
(Pet?! Treating me like an idiot! I'm a mongrel! What the fuck is that asshole thinking?)
Riki ground his teeth and groaned.
Placing the dinner on the wagon, Daryl arrived at the entrance of Riki's bedroom. He took a huge deep breath before unlocking the door.
He'd never seen a door of a pet room that needed to be locked from outside as there was never a need to do so.
"Son of a bitch!"
"Let me out!"
"I'm not a pet!"
A pet that heard the speaker and started to bang and slam the door did not exist, until Riki.
Moreover --
"Before he calms down, lock the door temporarily. "
Iason had also never once cared about a pet to such an extent.
From that alone, Daryl realized Riki was definitely more than a plaything that lason picked up merely on a whim. While he still couldn't figure out why lason wanted to keep a mongrel, he could understand Tason was serious about Riki to a certain degree.
For this reason, his footsteps became extraordinary heavier. He pushed the wagon into the room then stopped his pace.
"Master Riki, dinner is ready."
From yesterday till today, Daryl couldn't measure how far the distance should be between Riki and himself, his tone was extremely courteous, more than usual, he noticed his unusual highly tense state.
"I don't need it!"
Leaning his head against the window frame without glancing back, Riki spit out the words in a particularly irritating tone. Still, the situation was already much better than that at breakfast, where Riki completely ignored Daryl. At lunch time, Riki just stared at Daryl alertly.
Although Daryl couldn't tell how pets were regarded in the eyes of Ceres' residents, Riki's antipathy towards pets was obvious to the extreme. No... what he minded wasn't "pets", but the situation that he was facing.
Being chosen as a pet in Eos, in addition, a Blondie's pet, was like being under an unfortunate curse, Riki was refusing wholeheartedly.
As a result, he didn't take any food in the morning or noon. Only when he couldn't endure the thirst in his throat, he sipped a bit of the drinking water that Daryl placed there.
"But, if you don't have some food.. It's not good..."
Daryl had no idea how well Riki knew the Blondie, but opposing Iason by a hunger strike was simply a waste of time.
"I'm not a pet!"
Riki rejected his situation sternly with his whole body and soul. But the fact was Iason, his opponent for want of a better word was too tough.
"You're so annoying! When did slum mongrels turn into an endangered species? Stop rattling on about this and that!"
Riki yelled and turned around his head. He wasn't merely bluffing but rejecting in a tone that didn't need words.
Daryl suddenly felt pain in his ears, his eyes and his heart.
For a moment, he couldn't help backing off a little bit, but he just couldn't really back down.
The first round Daryl was defeated terribly, the second round he was defeated by just a gaze. He was surely disqualified in being a piece of furniture if he lost the battle here.
"Taking care of master Riki in this room is my duty as furniture," The ill feeling aroused from the bottom of Daryl's heart was a fact; on the other hand, honesty was his attitude.
-- Though.
"What the fuck does it have to do with me!!"
These words only inflamed Riki.
With all the well-meaning words, Riki still closed his heart tenaciously and turned a deaf ear. While it may be true that it was too early for Daryl to be vexed at Riki, his emotions were another matter:
And it only took a day for Daryl to be profoundly aware of his repulsive feelings. Not even once had Daryl let his emotions break free to other pets.
- -- This will never do.
- -- It's no good if you continue like this.
- - You simply know nothing about EOS.
- -- You don't have the right to refuse, so...
So, don't do anything futile!
The words stuck in Daryl's throat melted inside his mouth and turned into bitterness, he barely swallowed it back.
"This is the command of the master." This reply once again irritated Riki.
"Fuck off!! Get out!!"
Riki slammed his foot against the wagon. The impact caused the wagon to rattle and shake, the cutlery fell over with a mighty sound.
Once more, Daryl could only stand paralyzed.
When the situation was not as expected, pets lost their temper, squeaked, struck things around to vent their anger, Daryl was accustomed to the normal tantrum the pets could throw, but Riki's was on a whole different level. Same as yesterday evening when Daryl's lower abdomen was kicked, Daryl seriously felt that he was at risk.
It was hard to adapt the level of physical violence. Blood drained from Daryl's slightly twisted face. He couldn't even put on his usual poker face under Riki's gaze.
In front of Daryl's eyes, it was Riki standing there and spouting the flames of fury.
In those obsidian eyes Daryl could see the simmering magma deep in the abyss.
The emotion was strongly expressed, as if the splendor of vitality had turned into visible entity. In the entire EOS, no one among the pets or furniture had radiated such a brilliance of life that quickened one's pulses.
It was too strong.
It was dazzling.
-- And it brought awe.
Without any confidence to win this battle of stare, Daryl averted his eyes awkwardly to escape from Riki's stare, he propped the wagon and picked up the cutlery on the floor:
-- The next moment, the door opened abruptly, Iason walked in.
Daryl hastily stopped cleaning up, bowed deeply and greeted, "welcome back."
Despite his tone sounding shrill and nervous, lason didn't blame him.
On the contrary, lason didn't even cast a glance at Daryl, he approached Riki directly.
-- At that very moment, Riki grabbed lason.
"You bastard! Let me out of here!"
Daryl didn't expect Riki to carry out such violent behavior by any means, he stood there petrified with eyes widen in fright.
Riki's action was unpredictable, incomprehensible and unimaginable.
Daryl previous peaceful daily life collapsed from now on.
Iason avoided the clutching hand without any effort and pinioned Riki's arms behind his back. It was so unbearable that abusive language spilled out of Riki.
Just like replaying the film from yesterday with one difference only, Iason, listening to a heap of unbearable abuse and still totally turned a deaf ear, let out a heavy sigh.
"Indeed, Mongrels really had poor memories."
As saying, he grabbed Riki's right-hand and lifted mercilessly.
"Ahhh! -- Hnnn!--_"
It was so painful that Riki moaned and twisted his face.
Daryl didn't understand. Why was Riki so incorrigible to repeatedly revolt even when knowing this was useless?
Realizing that opposing Iason would only make things worse, and yet, he still wouldn't stop provoking against Iason.
Daryl couldn't understand, comprehend or be convinced.
It was futile to challenge the power, and foolish to infuriate the dominator with power of life and death in their grasp.
Was Riki such a fool not to realize such rule?
Why? For what reasons.
Daryl submerged himself into deep thoughts again.
"-- Daryl"
"Yes, master." When Daryl's name was being called softly, he immediately came to his senses.
"Take it off."
Take it off what?
There is no need to ask.
"Yes, sir."
Daryl quickly approached Riki, at the moment his hand reached for Riki's bottom belt, Daryl's lower limbs suffered a heavy kick that his waist was almost smashed into pieces.
Riki's habit of kicking was bad to the extreme. Daryl should have known from the experience of last night and earlier, but he still relaxed his vigilance. He staggered and tumbled down to the ground, regretting bitterly, that he really didn't learn from the earlier lessons.
The manual that he was familiar with was simply inapplicable when dealing with Riki. His blunder brought him shame, his pride as furniture had become as light as dust.
"You don't learn by experience. Do you enjoy being in trouble?" Iason lifted Riki for real so that Riki's heels slightly lost touch from
the ground.
"Ahh! ... Hmmm!! Hmmm!!" Riki moaned even louder.
Before his name was called for the second time, Daryl tightened his abdominal and stood up, his face screwed in pain; he cautiously stretched his hand for Riki's belt.
Riki didn't kick Daryl so this time Daryl didn't go flying into the air.
Riki was lifted up and couldn't even curse a word, his clothes were taken off by Daryl one by one carefully. And then, when Daryl extended his hand to the last piece -- the underwear, Riki twisted his waist to hide, and this was again only a futile struggle.
The underwear was pulled down and removed without a moment's hesitation. -- Instantly, Riki's buttocks were exposed.
Riki was so ashamed that his body quivered slightly, and he rubbed his thighs tightly. But even so, the organ that was exposed still had nowhere to hide.
The thing facing Daryl's nose when Daryl kneeled on the ground was the male genital that he lost when he paid the price to become furniture.
Daryl's heart went aflutter.
He got used to and had seen more than enough the immature loins of immature pets. Although the pubic hair was not that dense, the genital Riki had naturally came with a sense of mass.
No matter male or female, since the event of pets' copulation was for the pleasure of masters, neither pubic hair nor armpit hair was wanted.
The indecent body hair would be permanently removed. Point of fact this also applied to the household appliance referred to as furniture. There were no exceptions
In the eyes of Daryl who was accustomed to hairless naked limbs, the hidden genital in the non-processed pubic hair carried a sense of obscenity.
He stared at Riki's thighs unknowingly and leaked out a gurgling sound from his throat unconsciously.
Iason's icy cold voice came above Daryl's head
"Daryl, throw away all the clothes taken off from him."
Daryl's eyes barely widened in astonishment without considered his discourteous manner. He looked up and saw Iason's eyes were colder than usual.
"Remove all the spare clothes in the closet too."
Disposing of all the dressing gowns, pajamas and underwear that have just been prepared in the morning? What is the reason ever for this?
Although his brain was full of questions, knowing it was meaningless to ask, Daryl stood up nervously, quickly collected the scattered clothes on the floor and brought them outside.
And then, he removed all the clothes in the closet according to the instruction.
Finally, the tidying up had come to the end when the wagon was also moved away.
"In the following month, three meals a day are enough." Iason delivered the words nonchalantly and let go of Riki.
Meanwhile, Riki collapsed to the floor as if he'd lost the all strength.
Did he even lack the ability to stand up? The muscles of his limbs unstiffened in an indecent shape, only his shoulders and chest were heaving, his mouth was hissing continually with a flurried gasping breath.
Daryl only saw lason binding Riki, but Riki exhausted his physical strength more than Daryl thought.
Surely it must be because Riki didn't eat anything from the morning.
Daryl puzzled for a moment that perhaps he should prepare supper for Riki.
"Daryl, come with me." lason instructed concisely.
After responding with eye contact, Daryl bowed perfectly.
Although Riki was unable to move, he still didn't forget to look back and throw imprecations upon Iason's back.
"You son of a bitch! ... I'm gonna to kill you! Someday...I'll definitely kill you!!"
Only Daryl was startled by these extremely terrible words, as Iason walked away in his usual elegant manner, completely unfazed by the tirade.
The door of the pet room where Riki stayed was shut and locked.
After that, Daryl respectfully picked up the outerwear and gloves that had been thrown on the sofa in the living room and placed them in the closet, then took out an ivory dressing gown before hurrying back to Ison's side.
Iason took off his Tanagura formal wear without a word. In the meantime, Daryl was holding the loungewear and stood straight until he finished changing clothes. He then slowly sailed a sidelong glanced at Daryl.
"Daryl."
"Yes," Daryl replied immediately.
After such a long time, he didn't know why he felt a kind of bizarre inconsistency when being called upon by Iason's clarion voice.
Pets never called Daryl's name. Being in Eos for two years, he also didn't remember lason had ever summoned him in such a way. Since Daryl maintained the household satisfactorily, it was not necessary for Iason to call Daryl specifically to deal with anything.
And yet, Iason called upon Daryl's many times in these two days.
Frankly, Daryl was really scared since he wasn't accustomed to being called by name.
No...more than that. The visual impact brought by Riki was too strong that he didn't pay attention to this fact for a while.
"Daryl"
When his name was called, he felt an unusual awkwardness
-- No.
Odd to say, this was the first time Daryl had a substantive feeling that he was lason's property, not just an appliance attached to the household.
Was this the joy of being possessed and dominated?
—- It didn't seem to be the case.
He couldn't tell, being called by his name, was almost like creating a feeling of connection between Iason and himself.
What? Where and how to connect?
These. ... Daryl didn't understand. It felt like the sense of distance between him and the far away lason was slightly colored
Concealing his inner turmoil, he waited for the next command from lason.
"It seems that he didn't eat breakfast and lunch today?"
-- In a moment, Daryl gasped his breath back involuntarily.
He wasn't afraid of being scolded. Instead, he was astonished to see lason knew such thing.
(... Could it be?)
At that moment, the breeding diary that he logged on the furniture's terminal yesterday flashed upon his mind.
(This can't be true ... really?)
But it was inconsistent if things couldn't be explained in this way.
The masters of the household could simply enter the password to access furniture terminal at any time they liked.
lason definitely had gone over the observational record -- Riki's breeding diary-- taken by Daryl. This, in a sense, dumbfounded Daryl In all this time as Iason's furniture, Daryl had never heard a word about a pet or its care from lason's mouth. Pets were worth nothing to lason but only an obligation for the elite to own one. Daryl saw and knew Iason's completely non-caring attitude towards pets.
Logging a pet's observational diary was one of the daily routine of furniture.
However, in actual fact Daryl had never seen a master checking on the diary out of curiosity.
This was not Daryl's personal opinion, this was the understanding of furniture and considered common sense in EOS. A breeding diary was just for data transfer during the pets disposal - merely for formality.
(So lason had even checked to see if Riki had taken his meals?)
What's more, he read the diary for two consecutive days.
This is impossible. Such... He really did that?
But if this wasn't the case, then lason would never have known Riki was having a hunger strike.
In these two years, Daryl knew crystal clear which pet kept in this house attracted Iason's attention.
They were naïve, shameless, and in a sense, they fawned upon their master farcically to a pitiful extent. Even so, lason's face never flashed a slight expression.
Rather, he was simply cold. When one was silently immersed in the icy gaze that passed through the frigid zone, all thoughts or heartbeats simply frozen over.
There had been no exception, but it wasn't the same this time.
Riki was —
- special.
And Iason didn't conceal this fact.
Assuming that, suppose, the pet did anything stupid that shattered Iason's pride, according to Iason's previous approach, he wouldn't even bother to scold but immediately disposed of the pet.
This was not Daryl's bias. In lason's eyes, pets were merely a disposable consumer good that weren't even worth lason raising his voice to scold
Iason used to ignore his pets with unconcern, but now he took no notice of Riki's ill behavior out of interest, it was completely different.
Seeing Iason immerged in all the revilements and still neglecting them indifferently, the degree of Iason's attitude to this pet so opposite to the normal, Daryl lost his words for a moment.
"I am very sorry." Daryl bowed deeply.
"Master Riki didn't have dinner either."
Iason probably should already know this after seeing the scene.
Anyhow, Daryl finally knew, the level of commitment that Iason put on Riki was far beyond his expectation, and this deeply agitated Daryl.
"I don't mind. He is a mongrel from a slum, and not so delicate that he will collapse without a few meals."
Daryl had no idea what lason's real intention was when he delivered those words in a nonchalant manner.
So far, Iason looked like a totally different person, his interest and concern towards pets had hugely risen, but he seemed to be too tolerant toward Riki's unendurable speech and behavior.
No -- The way Iason dealt with Riki couldn't be described as 'tolerant', lason didn't even give Riki underwear and forced him to be naked for the following month.
This gap, this temperature difference, somewhere brought a feeling of imbalance.
Prior to this, Iason had never cast a glance on his pet after naming it.
Even after taking the pet back from the Sex soirees, it was left to Daryl to do the straightening up efficiently. When clutching the collar at one end, visiting his pet's room, or touching his pets, lason had never taken his gloves off.
However, since Iason brought Riki back, his words and deeds had changed quickly, almost overnight. Daryl was astonished and felt like he received a blow to the core of his head.
It was probably disrespectful for furniture to put himself and his master on the same side. However, Iason had indeed undergone a transform in nature. This was absolutely not mistaken.
Disposing of the academy's top species apathetically with no hesitation, and then on the other hand, having a great deal of interest and concern toward a Cere's mongrel, Daryl had to consider what this implied.
Once the viewpoint had changed, the value of things also changed.
No matter if this was good or bad, all things were vivid in Daryl's eyes.