Beyond Beast Rank

An Unusual Delivery

Five hundred credits sat glowing on my phone screen like a lifeline in the middle of a freezing ocean.

I stared at the numbers while sitting at the small kitchen table, listening to the soft, rhythmic wheeze of Lily breathing in the next room. Three hundred credits were due for our rent tomorrow morning. Another hundred would buy a fresh bottle of lung medicine that would keep her safe through the rainy weeks ahead. The last hundred would buy enough basic food to keep us going for two full weeks. The math did not leave room for hesitation, doubts, or fear.

Every second I sat in silence, the harsh reality of our life pressed harder against my chest. My hands were still stiff from the cold rain outside, but the heat of panic kept my pulse hammering against my ribs. I picked up my pencil, writing down our expenses on a scrap piece of paper just to confirm what I already knew. The numbers did not lie. My regular delivery route earned me barely twelve credits a day after paying for motorcycle fuel. At that rate, saving three hundred credits before tomorrow afternoon was completely impossible.

Lily pushed open her bedroom door, wrapping a faded wool blanket around her thin shoulders. Her eyes looked heavy with fatigue as she stared at my delivery coat lying over the back of the wooden chair. A small, ragged cough shook her frame before she could step fully into the room.

"You are checking that late delivery message again," Lily said, her voice barely louder than a whisper against the low hum of the old electric heater.

I locked my phone screen instantly and slid the device deep into my inner pocket before she could read the address or see the high payment figure.

"It is just another package," I said, forcing an easy smile onto my face while standing up to meet her. "A warehouse near the old rail yards needs a midnight drop off. They pay extra for night work because nobody else wants to ride out that far."

Lily walked closer, reaching out to touch my forearm with her cold, thin fingers. "The industrial district is empty at night, Ethan. People say strange things happen out past the city wall, especially near those abandoned train yards. You do not have to take risks like this for a few extra coins."

"I am twenty years old, Lily," I replied softly, covering her small hand with my own warm palm. "Carrying a box across town is not a risk. It is just work. I will drop off the box, collect the payment, and be back before the sun comes up."

She looked into my eyes, searching for any sign of lie or hesitation. She did not look convinced, but she nodded slowly and let me lead her back toward her small bed. Her trust felt heavier on my chest than any metal weight. She believed in me because she had no one else in this city, and I could not let her wake up tomorrow to find an eviction notice nailed to our front door.

I walked back to the kitchen, checked the lock on the window, and grabbed my helmet from the table. I checked the small balance in my digital wallet one last time, reminding myself why I had to do this. I pulled on my gloves, stepped out into the dark hallway, and locked the front door tightly behind me.

Out in the alleyway behind our building, I checked the fuel gauge on my delivery motorcycle and kicked the engine into gear. The old machine sputtered twice before roaring to life, shaking the metal frame under my seat.

The ride away from the central market district felt like crossing an invisible boundary between two completely different worlds. The bright neon lights, the giant digital advertising screens showing high rank tamers, and the clean stone walkways of the rich neighborhoods faded behind me within twenty minutes of steady riding.

The streets grew wider, darker, and emptier with every mile I traveled. Tall glass towers gave way to rusted iron storage tanks, broken concrete walls, and endless rows of abandoned warehouses with shattered windows. The air smelled thick of stale grease, chemical runoff, and wet dirt blowing in from the wild zones beyond the massive border wall.

Fewer streetlamps worked out here in the outer ring. My motorcycle headlight cut a narrow yellow beam through the thick fog, casting long, distorted shadows against the corrugated metal sides of empty factories.

I pulled over to the side of the road, keeping the engine idling while I checked the delivery instructions on my phone screen once more. The wind howled through the empty metal girders above the road, rattling loose copper wires against the pavement.

The address pointed toward Warehouse Seventeen, located at the very end of a dead end service road behind the old rail yards. No company sign marked the entrance on the map. No security guards stood at the perimeter gate. The system gave no contact phone number, leaving only a dark red marker pulsing over the damp concrete layout.

I cut the motorcycle engine a hundred yards away, letting the bike coast silently into the dark shadows beside a rusted shipping container. The silence out here was heavy and suffocating, broken only by the steady dripping of rainwater from a broken roof gutter overhead and the distant, low howl of wind passing through the border fence.

I parked the bike, pulled down my clear helmet visor, and stepped out onto the wet gravel track. The ground crunching beneath my boots felt loud enough to wake the dead.

Up close, Warehouse Seventeen looked nothing like the normal commercial delivery locations I visited during my day shifts. Thick steel plates were welded over the lower windows, and a heavy iron padlock hung from the main double doors, yet a faint amber light glowed from a small service entrance around the side wall.

I stood in the cold dark air, staring at the locked door, realizing that this place did not look like a normal legal business at all. My fingers gripped the straps of my delivery bag as a cold shiver ran down my spine, but the memory of Lily coughing and the three hundred credit rent debt pushed me forward into the shadows.