26 Raw mea

The night was still young, so the izakaya did not have much customer flow at the moment. In short order, the beers were delivered. The waitress was smart, and only delivered six for now, seeing that the fourth person hadn't arrived. In due time after that, the tsukune, tataki and takowasa were placed on the table. These dishes were also delivered in three-person portions. Plato was naturally curious about why the waitress was so considerate towards them, but then realized that Basara and Iwatani had probably flexed their influence. In any case, just the coats they wore were probably multiple times the monthly wages of the waitress. Who would want to offend them?

Even though Plato wore the cheapest clothes of them all, and could very well be riding on their coattails, which rich second generation would allow a useless person to follow them? In addition, their interactions weighed more towards friendship than a lackey relationship.

Whatever the case, Plato decided to enjoy the full VIP treatment while he could.

"How have things been?" Plato asked.

"Good, boss! We've registered for a company license, as well as a trading license. Once it's all approved, we'll transfer the investments under the company's name. Oh yeah, have you decided on a name?" responded Basara.

"Shinsekai Ltd.?" suggested Plato, tentatively.

"New World? Seems a bit arrogant, don't you think?" asked Iwatani, with obvious doubt.

"Is it? Can you apply for that name?" inquired Plato.

"Of course I can! The only question is...," said Basara, deliberately pausing in the middle of the sentence. "Do you really want to use that name?"

"You should know the answer to that," growled Plato, displeased with their roundabout way of dissing the name. He wasn't angry that they had doubts, but he was annoyed that they weren't straightforward enough. He did not believe that waffling around in a flower garden would do any good to anyone.

Basara and Iwatani had awkward expressions plastered on their faces when they heard Plato's angry remark. They had managed to piss off their boss before they even started officially working. Although they had a brotherhood that was deeper than blood, they all knew that business was business, and friendship was friendship.

"Fine. What are your suggestions?" asked Plato, taking a step back. Basara and Iwatani were tentatively members of the board of directors, after all. Even though he held the majority of the voting shares and had absolute power over the company, listening to other's opinions was always a good thing.

"Um... yeah... how about... AmaMiHa Co.?" stuttered Basara.

"That sounds stupid. ToriMiSa sounds better," remarked Iwatani.

"Is your brain alright? That sounds like a bird school," retorted Basara.

"Huh?! What bird school?!" shouted Iwatani, spraying Basara's face with spittle.

"Alright, stop. Are you trying to decide on names, or are you polishing your manzai act?" yelled Plato, immediately dispersing the tense argument. Although his voice was loud, it did not hold a scolding tone, and was intended simply to stop the outrageous tangent conversation.

"We'll settle on Shinsekai Ltd. No room for discussion," asserted Plato, before he lowered his head and dug into his beef tataki.

When the almost raw beef entered his mouth, an assortment of textures bombarded him. The soft and velvety flesh melted in his mouth, while the crust was salty and crunchy. There was a trace of moisture in the meat, originating from some undrained blood. After a while, the crust and flesh melded together into a mush-like substance, which Plato had a hard time swallowing. He couldn't help but recall a few memories…

*****

It was a deathly still night. The howling of the wind could be heard as it skimmed past the trees of the forest, blowing the loose leaves in a circular motion. The rustle of foliage could occasionally be heard as the animals of the forest scurried about.

In a dark corner of the forest, underneath a tall and sturdy tree, a pale, thin and sickly man was sitting in a huddle, shielding himself from the cold wind. On his body was a loose tunic, barely long enough to cover up to his thighs. The tunic would flap along with the wind; evidently, it provided no protection against the chill.

The man went through the night, shivering and suffering. As the first rays of light entered his vision, the leaves under him crunched as he slowly unfurled himself from the foetal position. His bones rattled as they unconsciously continued shivering.

Two soft thuds sounded as he jumped about, trying madly to warm himself up. His body was wrapped in a faint glow, and the forest was extraordinarily bright. It was green as far as the eye could see, with not a single blemish of pollution.

Shaking his hands about and running on the spot, the man finished warming himself up. After rubbing his hands together, he lowered his centre of gravity and crept away with a light tread. The forest floor reacted minimally to his movements.

He passed through numerous trees and habitats, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. In front of him was a cave, home to a pack of wolves. Every step he took was laced with unfathomable caution. His eyes never left the entrance of the cave.

As he started moving away, a sudden breeze flew in the opposite direction. The man shook, and he felt a chill in his bones. He immediately stopped moving, afraid of provoking a further reaction. He didn't even dare to turn around to look at the situation. His calf muscles were incomparably tensed, as if they were springs.

As expected, when the wind arrived at the cave, multiple clicks could be heard from the impact between the wolf's hard paws and the stone ground. The gigantic wolf, which was easily three times larger than the man, surveyed the area with its sharp and deadly yellow eyes.

When they landed on the man's dark figure, it paused for a moment, squinting. Soon after, it no longer looked at him, and continued sweeping his gaze elsewhere. Its nose was raised, frantically sniffing the air. As a particular scent invaded its nostrils, it unconsciously let out a low yelp, before its snout and face contorted beyond recognition.

It fled back into the cave like lightning, and the echoes of howling could be heard.

The man, who was still sweating from the panic of almost being discovered, felt even more urgency when he heard the wolf's yelp. He was painfully aware of just what it meant for this predator to be so afraid.

Sparing not a single moment of hesitation, he dug his feet into the ground and launched himself forward. His figure sped past the trees in an unimaginable speed. Before long, guttural roars and the cries of wolves permeated through his ears. The man grimaced as he visualised the scene.

Soon, all manner of sounds died down. A final roar that shook the trees and made any opportunistic animals flee rang in the forest. The man slowed down his pace, then came to a full stop. With slight hesitation, he slowly turned around and ran back the way he came.

His steps quickened as the smell of iron entered his nose. The air soon became thick with red mist, invading and irritating his lungs and skin. Innards were sprayed everywhere, along with mutilated wolf bodies and a long, red stream of blood. None of the wolves had a whole body.

The man flinched at the scene of carnage, but quickly recovered his indifferent expression. He approached one of the corpses that had been mangled the least. He swung his head around, and found what the was looking for. Walking about ten metres away from the corpse, he picked up a sharp stone. Gripping it naturally, he channelled his vital energy into it, making it extra sharp.

He proceeded to use the stone to skin the corpse, and remove chunks of the meat. When the sinuous flesh was exposed, an almighty growl escaped from his stomach. Without waiting anymore, the man stuffed a small piece of raw meat into his mouth, chewing it a few times before making it slide down his throat.

His vital energy circulated around his digestive organs, protecting them from any possible damage. As the meat entered the stomach that had been empty for the past week, the man let out an audible groan, before he used his teeth to tear into more meat.

After a satisfying meal, the man retreated once again, finding a place to sleep.

At the same time, the beast who had killed the wolves was on the hunt again. The aggravating smell of smoke enveloped its entire body, and it was on the brink of going berserk.

Following its instincts, it followed the trail of smoke, to a human campsite. The closer it got to the smoke, the more frenzied it was. It charged its way through the camp, with no regard for anything in front of him. Utterly wrecking the place, human bodies were strewn everywhere, litres of blood flowing out.

It arrived at the fire, flinching before it. Turning around, it threw a few corpses on the fire, hoping to put it out. Instead, it simply produced the horrid and nauseating stench of burnt human flesh, which irritated the beast's nose even more.

Its eyes turned red, and disregarded everything around it. Using its massive paw to swipe away the entire firepit, it went on a rampage around the forest for the entire night.

The man had woken up to the smell of burning human flesh, and was terrified. Incomparably awake, he ran for hours, hoping to get away from the beast.

*****

Plato suddenly didn't feel like eating anymore. He put down his chopsticks, pushed the plate of tataki out, and grabbed a tsukune.

He nibbled slowly on it while he stared blankly at the wall again.

"Hey, what's wrong?" asked Basara.

"Nothing," Plato replied.

"You're face is really pale. Maybe we should just go home," said Iwatani. He was genuinely worried about him. Although they just had an argument, thy were still the best of brothers.

"Seriously, it's nothing. Let's just wait quietly," placated Plato.