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"We're just like you…" Big Chef Lady gestured toward the mouth of the cave."Most folks here are volunteers—some were patients left to die in quarantine, others just regular people who wandered into the war zone by accident." She paused, lowered her voice ever so slightly.
"But every last one of us chose to stay."
"Chose to stay?" Maverick frowned."This place doesn't exactly scream holiday resort."
"Hah! Hardly." The chubby woman gave her apron a dismissive shake."But the outside world isn't exactly a five-star destination either. At least here, there's food to eat, and life's got a… slow-cooked rhythm."
Maverick was about to ask about Dr. Chan when the woman barrelled on, clearly enjoying the sound of her own voice.
"That friend of yours? Hurt less than you. He's been off browsing the market for ages!"
"Hurt less? Market?"
Maverick couldn't wrap his head around it. Dr. Chan had looked like he'd been dragged backwards through a battlefield—limping, bleeding, half-conscious. And now he was window shopping?
"Eat up," Big chef lady beamed at him."You'll feel better. Maybe even up for a little stroll yourself…"
Maverick hesitated, then picked up the bowl and downed the meat soup in a few grateful gulps. He'd been starving, and this—well, this was pretty damn good.
The woman chuckled, clearly pleased."Want more? There's plenty!"
"Hey, Auntie," Maverick leaned in, lowering his voice,"what exactly are those… skinners?"
She didn't answer directly. Instead, she smacked her lips and countered,"Tell me this—what do you think the outside world is?"
Maverick blinked at her, confused. But before he could ponder the riddle, she was already gathering up the dishes and heading out.
"Can you take me to this'market' of yours?" he asked, attempting to rise.
"I can. But you'll have to wait—I've still got meals to deliver."
With that, she grabbed her soup bucket and waddled off deeper into the cave.
Maverick finally managed to stand. To his surprise, there were no guards, no lurking skinner monsters. Just a warren of interconnected chambers—crude stone rooms, sparsely furnished, mostly empty, though signs of recent life remained. People had been here. They'd simply gone out.
He watched the cook's silhouette disappear deeper into the cave. She paused occasionally, glancing over her shoulder, as if on alert. But for what?
When she finally returned, Maverick was ready. Or so he thought.
The moment she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him through the labyrinthine tunnels, he felt like a rat in a maze. Water dripped from above, voices echoed in the distance, and footsteps clacked around corners. He'd barely begun trying to memorize the route when the stone walls opened up—
And suddenly, they were standing in a vast underground chamber.
A natural skylight had cracked open in the cave ceiling, letting a waterfall of golden sunlight spill down. It bathed the bustling market in a warm glow. People bustled about, trading everything from glimmering mushrooms to squeaking bamboo rats. Freshly picked mountain fruit perfumed the air, and soft animal pelts lay folded like rugs at their feet.
The cook was clearly a local celebrity—everyone called out to her, tossed her fruit, and flashed cheerful grins.
Maverick was just beginning to enjoy himself when the atmosphere shifted. A hush rippled through the crowd, as though something—or someone—was gliding into focus.
A tall, slender woman strolled forward, the parting crowd moving aside like a tide before her. She looked serene, almost bored, but the vendors treated her like royalty, shoving their best goods into her arms with a mix of worship and terror.
"Is that your queen?" Maverick whispered, awestruck.
The cook snorted."Queen, my foot. That's Carmen. She's our dentist. If you've ever had a molar yanked out, you'll know exactly why folks kiss the ground she walks on."
Maverick blinked. This place was bizarre—but oddly practical.
Then came another wave of commotion from the far side of the market. A towering figure entered the cave, flanked by equally burly followers.
The cook jerked her chin in that direction."Now that's the one you're looking for. The King."
Maverick squinted. It was the Skinners' chief himself. But what surprised him most wasn't the man—it was the crowd's reaction. Or lack thereof. The market remained mostly unfazed. No offerings. No worship. Just mild disinterest.
Well, all except for one eager young vendor, who bounced up with the fattest bamboo rat he could find, beaming like he'd just won the lottery.
The Skinner Chief barely glanced at him. His brow twitched in disgust—like the rat had rolled in something unholy. One wave of his hand, and the poor vendor slunk away, crushed.
The cook giggled."Newbie mistake. Our chief doesn't take bribes. He barters fair and square—always. See those things in his follower's arms?" She pointed eagerly."Those are real treasures. Old appliances. Can't find those lying around anymore."
Maverick's eyes lit up. Appliances? Here?
Back home, he could smell a pile of dusty electronics from three streets away. If this underground world had them too… he had to take a look. His legs moved before his brain caught up, plunging into the fray.
The crowd surged around the chief's stall like hungry ants on a sugar cube. The man himself stood perfectly still, arms crossed, chin high, glowing like a demigod beneath the skylight, towering over the chaos like it was just another Tuesday.
"Now that's a leader," Maverick muttered."Stoic, powerful, commanding… he doesn't even need to yell."
Just then, the chief spotted Carmen approaching.
His divine aura shattered like glass. The broad chest deflated. Shoulders dipped. And a wide, utterly undignified grin spread across his face.
"Make way!" he bellowed, shoving jerky into Carmen's arms."Carmen-sis is here!"
He looked like a cat trying to impress a laser pointer.
Maverick's jaw dropped. Wait, were those claws… retracting?
The once-menacing talons were gone, replaced by soft, stubby fingers. Honestly, he looked kind of cuddly now.
Carmen sighed and raised a brow."How many times have I told you, Chief—two check-ups a year. You've missed three."
The chief chuckled awkwardly, scratching his head."Ah, Carmen-sis, I've been so busy lately. Maybe we could—"
Her eyes flicked to one of his henchmen. He froze, sweating bullets.
"Actually… tomorrow's looking very… not-busy," the man stammered.
Carmen smiled, satisfied. The chief scowled at his betrayer.
"Tomorrow…" the henchman added quietly,"I need a check-up too…"
Ignoring them both, Carmen turned to examine the stall. Her gaze landed on the pile of scrap electronics.
"Ooh. You know what would be great? A powered dental drill."
Everyone flinched. The mental image alone was enough to make even Maverick's teeth ache.
But Maverick's eyes gleamed. A challenge.
"A battery-powered one?" he offered."Easy. I made one when I was twelve."
Carmen turned sharply."You can build one? From this junk?"
"Absolutely."
Before anyone could stop him, he grabbed a blender off the pile and began dismantling it. The cook let out a wail of despair.
Carmen shot her a glare. She fell silent.
Maverick worked fast, his hands dancing like they remembered every screw and wire from his childhood projects. In minutes, a crude but working drill whirred to life in his palm.
Vrrrrrrr.
To Carmen, it was music. To everyone else… it was the scream of doom.
She snatched it like a child at Christmas, dropped her entire armful of loot into Maverick's arms, and dashed off toward her clinic.
The cook picked through the pile and grinned."Heh. Don't have to cook for a week now!"
But Maverick wasn't smiling. He could feel someone watching him. A glance back confirmed it—the chief was glaring at him, with a look that said, You just handed the butcher a sharper knife.
Maverick broke into a run.
And yeah, someone definitely kicked him in the butt as he fled.
No time to look back. He had to find Dr. Chan—fast.