The Divine Farmer Of Monster Meat

Chapter 2: The Hunter's Bargain

The smell was intoxicating. It wasn’t just the scent of cooked meat; it was the smell of life, raw and pulsating, clinging to the sterile, dusty air of the wasteland. Felipe’s fingers trembled as he plucked the golden-glowing fruit from the emerald stalk. It was heavy, warm, and felt like a small, beating heart in his palm. He didn’t think. He didn't hesitate. He sank his teeth into the tough, fibrous skin, and a rush of savory, salty juices flooded his mouth, tasting like a miracle.

He was so engrossed in the frantic, animalistic act of eating that he didn't hear the crunch of boots on gravel until a cold, sharp tip pressed firmly against the hollow of his throat.

"Don't move," a voice commanded. It was sharp, rhythmic, and carried the weight of someone who spent their life hunting, not being hunted. "Drop the food and put your hands where I can see them. Now."

Felipe froze, a mouthful of the strange, meaty fruit half-chewed. His heart lurched, slamming against his ribs. He slowly lowered his hands, holding them up, his fingers stained with the golden nectar of the plant. Standing before him was a woman, her clothes a patchwork of scavenged leather and reinforced synth-fiber. Her hair was pulled back into a severe, utilitarian braid, and her eyes sharp as a hawk’s were locked onto the pulsating fruit still clutched in his left hand.

"Look, lady, I’m just trying to survive here," Felipe said, his voice cracking. He kept his hands steady, his gaze flickering to the spear. It was crudely fashioned from a long, jagged bone and a piece of sharpened, scrap-metal piping. "I didn’t steal anything. I… I grew this."

The woman tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. She stepped closer, the tip of the spear never wavering from his throat. She sniffed the air, her nostrils flaring. "You grew this? In this dust? I’ve been tracking the scent of fresh protein for three sectors, and it led me straight to a starving nobody in the middle of a crater. Explain yourself, or I’ll gut you and take it anyway."

Felipe swallowed hard, the fruit sitting like a lead weight in his stomach. "It’s a system thing. Look, I’m Felipe. I’m not a threat. I haven’t had a decent meal in god knows how long. If you want some, there’s, uh, the plant is right there. Just please, move that thing away from my neck."

She glanced down at the emerald stalk, then back at his face. Her expression remained guarded, suspicious, but the tension in her arms eased just a fraction. "System? You’re a cultivator? I haven't seen a functional system core in years. They all went dark after the Great Blight."

"I don't know what the Blight is," Felipe admitted, his mouth still watering from the meal. "I just woke up here with a system pinging in my head. I’m guessing you’re not here to be friends?"

"I'm Mariana," she said, finally pulling the spear away, though she didn’t relax her stance. She shifted her gaze toward the surrounding rocks, ears twitching at the slightest sound. "And no, we aren't friends. But I’m hungry, and you’re clearly incapable of defending yourself. You look like you’d keel over if a breeze hit you too hard."

"I’m working on it," Felipe muttered, wiping his chin. "You want some? It’s not exactly gourmet, but it’s definitely protein."

Mariana stepped forward, crouching near the plant. She didn't touch it immediately; she inspected the roots with a critical, expert eye. "How does it work? Do you just plant a seed and hope?"

"I had to use the teeth from one of those screeching rodent-things," Felipe explained, gesturing toward the mangled carcass he’d left a few yards away. "The system told me to plant them in mineral-rich soil. I just... I focused on the hunger, and it happened. It’s fast."

Mariana let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Monster teeth? You’re lucky it didn't kill you. Most people try to cultivate standard flora and die of radiation poisoning within a week. Using monster biotics is... reckless. But effective."

"I didn't have much of a choice," he said, watching her intently. "Listen, Mariana. I’ve got the ability to grow this stuff, but I’m clearly out of my depth. I can’t fight off anything bigger than a rat, and I barely know how to survive the night. You look like you’ve been doing this for a long time."

She stood up, sheathing a small, rusted knife at her hip. "I hunt. I trade for water, for filters, for ammo. I don't give handouts."

"I’m not asking for a handout," Felipe countered, a spark of stubbornness cutting through his exhaustion. "I’m asking for a trade. You bring me the remains of the monsters you kill teeth, claws, whatever I need to keep the soil active and I’ll make sure you never have to go hungry again. I can grow more than one of these. I can scale this up."

Mariana looked at the horizon, then back at the small, glowing sprout in the crater. Her face was a mask of cold calculation. "You’re offering to be my supplier? You know what happens if the local packs find out you have a renewable source of organic energy? They’ll tear this place apart, and you with it."

"Then I need a guard," Felipe said simply. "You protect me, you get the first pick of the harvest. We both stay alive. Does that sound like a deal, or are you going to keep pointing that stick at me?"

She stared at him for a long, uncomfortable minute. The wind whistled through the jagged obsidian rocks, carrying the grit of the wasteland. Finally, she lowered the spear completely, resting the butt of it against the ground. "You’re either incredibly brave or the biggest idiot I’ve met since the world turned grey. I’ll take the deal, for now. But don't think I won't leave you behind if you become a liability."

"Fair enough," Felipe said, feeling a wave of relief so intense his knees almost buckled. "So, what’s the first step?"

"We move," Mariana said, her voice dropping to a sharp whisper. She gestured toward the rocks. "You’ve made enough noise here to alert anything within a two-mile radius. We need to find a more defensible spot to set up your 'farm.' And you need to learn how to harvest without attracting every scavenger in the wastes."

Felipe stood up, his limbs still sore but his stomach finally feeling something close to satisfied. He looked at the system screen, which had remained active in the corner of his vision.

[Alliance Proposal: Hunter Mariana Salsabila accepted.]

[Shared Resource Protocol Active.]

"Wait," Felipe said, looking at the system alerts. "The system acknowledges you. It says our resources are shared."

Mariana frowned, looking at the empty air where Felipe was reading the text. "Don't let the system run your life, Felipe. Use it, but don't trust it. It’s a tool, nothing more."

"Right. A tool," Felipe echoed, nodding. "So, which way? Do you have a base?"

"I have a bunker a few miles east," she replied, picking up her pack. "It’s not much, but it’s dry and it keeps the acid-rain out. If you can keep the food coming, maybe we can make it livable."

Felipe started to turn, ready to follow her, when the air suddenly shifted. The silence of the wasteland was shattered by a high-pitched, piercing screech that seemed to vibrate in his very marrow. It wasn't the sound of one animal; it was the sound of a dozen.

Mariana’s head snapped toward the north, her spear flying into her hands with practiced, lethal grace. "Get down," she hissed, her eyes darting between the shadows of the rocks. "They caught the scent of the harvest. We’ve got company."

Felipe scrambled behind a slab of obsidian, his pulse spiking into his throat. He looked at his hands, then at the dirt, wondering if he could grow something anything to help him survive the next five minutes.

"Stay behind me," Mariana whispered, her body coiled like a spring. "And for heaven's sake, don't scream."