THE SYSTEM IS NOT MINE

The stone step was cold.

Yan left the bowl of sour broth in the shadow beside the hall and crossed the courtyard toward the storehouse.

The cool rays of the evening fell on the iron braces along the cracked wall caught the last light and held it without warmth.

Before he reached the entrance, the double doors of the storehouse opened.

The wooden doors stuck against the soil and screamed the noise.Two older disciples came out, their boots grinding in gravel, they carried a massive Iron board reinforced with dark metal bands and dragging it through the door.

The board was carved with the words.

Iron Marrow Sect.

Suddenly, the rear disciple’s grip slipped.

The lower edge dropped of the board dropped.

The impact drove into the earth with a concussive weight that jarred the stone beneath. Dust lifted in a tight ring.

“Heavens” the rear disciple panted, shaking his wrists. “It’s heavier than it looks.”

He wiped sweat from his brow and noticed Yan standing in the dimming light.

For a moment, he scanned Yan and asked, “So you’re the servant Elder Chao mentioned.”

Yan’s muscles tightened almost imperceptibly.

Elder Chao had spoken of him.

He inclined his head once but did not answer.

“Move,” the disciple muttered, reclaiming his grip.

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“Muchen will assign your duties.”

At the front, the senior disciple clicked his tongue sharply.Then the senior disciple looked at the rear disciple.

“Don’t waste your efforts complaining. If you had reached Spiritual Qi Foundation Third Level, your skeletal density would have handled this weight.”

“I know, Senior, But you are not much stronger than me either” the younger grunted.

“Hurry..lift it up”

They adjusted their hold and began toward the front gate as Yan watched the board tilt forward with each step. The sect’s name was too heavy for the brackets mounted above the entrance. Too heavy to hang casually.

So it was carried and displayed when required, and then removed.

The gate had stood bare when they arrived and

now he understood.

Then he turned and stepped into the storehouse.

The air inside was thick and It was filled with the smell of the goats and the dried grass.

”Maa”

”Maa”

The goats are arranged in lines separated by wooden columns and were pressed against each other.

At the far end, beside the indoor pens, an old man stood with a brush and ledger. His robes were grey and permanently stained. Ink darkened his fingertips.

“Separate them!” the old man snapped, pointing with the brush. “Westfeed stock to the right enclosure. Do not mix them.”

The ash-clad escorts obeyed without protest as the new livestock moved forward.

They walked into the right-side pens and began arranging cattle.

Yan did not look at them first.He turned his attention left and noticed the older livestock occupied the opposite row.

He stepped closer to the slats.

A goat stood near the fence. Its ribs were pressed sharply beneath the skin, it looked skinny and starved .The coat hung dull and uneven. Its eyes were empty and it barely said ”Maa”

Further down the row, Cattle, Sheep.

More goats.

All the same.

Yan’s gaze moved slowly along the line. The sect was purchasing livestock in volume. But the existing herd was wasting away.

They were not being rotated for slaughter.

They were barely being kept alive and starved.

He shifted his focus back to the right enclosure.

The new herd stood in a tight formation separated from the old. The ledger keeper scratched a note without looking up.

Yan understood the arithmetic immediately.

Livestock were being brought in and then separated.

The old ones were not dying naturally.

They were being starved gradually with measurement.

Whatever the sect was extracting, It required them alive.

And whatever was being taken, It was not meat.