“Welcome, oh, the young lady has arrived!”
“Hello, Boss. Please call me Aria.”
I bowed my head to the boss, who greeted me cheerfully despite his rough appearance, as I entered the store.
“Thank you for helping out today.”
“What? You’re helping out? I’m the one who’s grateful! But are you really okay with this?”
“Yes. I’m used to grunt work.”
The place I came to for my meal supply was none other than the slaughterhouse. Here, hunters would buy their catch, slaughter it, and sell the hide and meat. It seemed like a wholesale store buying from suppliers, as the prices were pretty cheap.
How do I know this, you ask? Well, I’m a regular here. Almost all the meat used for the orphanage’s meals comes from this place. Ever since I got a job at the orphanage, I’ve been the one doing the shopping, so I’ve gotten to know the boss quite well.
There’s a saying that goes “a rice cake belongs in a rice cake shop”, right? My meal is blood, and to get blood, I need to go where there’s blood.
So, my only options were to hunt directly or come to the slaughterhouse where the game is processed.
‘Hunting myself feels a bit much for now.’
I’m still not prepared emotionally or physically. I was lucky to catch a dying wild boar last time, but there’s no way I could brave the animal kingdom with just my bare hands.
Thus, I had to settle this meal through another method. Then it occurred to me—this slaughterhouse. I casually mentioned it to the boss, and he readily accepted, leading me to come here for a part-time job today.
Honestly, it’s a clever way to live.
Of course, I never asked something like “I’ll help out, so please let me drink some blood.”
I simply expressed that I wanted to feed the kids at the orphanage and offered to help with the chores in exchange for some meat, to which the boss nodded vigorously with a moved expression and accepted.
I do feel a bit guilty for deceiving him, but… well, it’s not a lie.
The part about getting meat for the orphanage kids is indeed true.
There would surely be blood to dispose of while helping out at the slaughterhouse, and since it’s going to be thrown away anyway, I thought, why not let me have some?
By recycling the waste blood, I fill my stomach, the kids at the orphanage get meat, and the boss gets a cheap worker—it’s a win-win-win situation, right?
I think this plan is pretty decent.
Though, to be honest, it does seem much tastier to directly sink my teeth into a warm, sweet neck of someone like last time—
…No, don’t even think about that.
Remember, I don’t eat for pleasure, but to survive. I must never forget that.
Anyway, whether it’s the blood of a dead animal or the blood I’ve poured into a container for processing, as long as it can supplement my nutrition, it’s sufficient.
At least as far as I’ve researched, I haven’t heard of a vampire getting sick from eating too much blood, so I think I’ll be fine.
Once I give it a try, I’ll have my answer. I’ll just have to gauge it while working.
—That was once the kind of thought I had.
“Aria! Bring this to the other room!!”
“Aria!! Bring the second tool from the top!!!”
“Yes! I’m going!!!”
It’s tough.
Only after I really got to work did I realize that the worried look the boss had given me wasn’t just a simple apology for sending me on errands.
The tasks assigned to me, that could be called grunts or assistant-level work, were effectively just hard labor when you consider the physical workload.
In hindsight, it makes sense. I don’t have any disassembly skills, so the best I can do is move meat around, carry tools, or clean up.
At first, the boss gave me lighter tasks to be cautious, but once he realized I had some strength after all and wasn’t the delicate girl who clutched her head at the sight of blood, he started giving me tougher jobs without holding back.
Since he’s been focusing on his work, he’s now shamelessly making me work hard.
Well, I’m a vampire, so I can lift more than an average adult male, and rather than feeling dizzy at the sight of blood, I’m just busy swallowing the saliva pooling in my mouth. As long as I keep that in check, I’ll be fine, but I imagine it looks like a young and fragile lady is being overworked from a third party’s perspective.
Ah, well, I don’t know about the world, but at least in the Luminous Kingdom, there’s no labor department, so it feels a bit ambiguous to call it exploitation?
There’s no indication of how much work exceeds the legal limit or anything.
Thinking about it, even if I don’t want to say it myself, considering Plona’s words, a girl like me who looks like a rich house lady shouldn’t have any business being here at a slaughterhouse. This world isn’t one where labor laws are thrown around willy-nilly.
If I were back on Earth, would they have so readily accepted a female college student applying for a job at a slaughterhouse?
I’m not sure, but I doubt it. Even if such a position existed, they would have surely gone through a thorough check to ensure she wouldn’t just run away mid-shift.
So, from that standpoint, this level of work in the Luminous Kingdom isn’t that discriminated against.
Even now, wars with Beastmen erupt everywhere, and the world is rife with vampires, so a part-time job in a slaughterhouse isn’t worth making a fuss over.
In a world where warfare and suffering are everyday occurrences, we should be thankful just to have some means of earning money, and sadly, that’s the reality.
In my case, however, having volunteered to come here, it’s refreshing and fun to do something other than work at the orphanage, so I don’t really mind.
Since I’m not starving like last time, and the smell of blood is everywhere, it feels more like helping out in a restaurant kitchen.
But even with a vampire’s stronger physique, running around constantly is still quite tiring.
If I feel fatigued with this body, then from a human standpoint, this must be hard labor, right?
No matter how tough the world is, if this is the average workload for the inhabitants here, then it would be a physical tragedy that one couldn’t view without shedding tears.
That’s why people emphasize learning skills and pursuing professional occupations.
Now that I understand this, even though I’ve never had a job in my past life, it’s clear why they push for this kind of thing.
While I’m just helping out for a day, not everyone can tackle labor like this joyfully every day.
Moreover, if one’s physical state deteriorates to the extreme, the mind will also start falling apart—something I know all too well.
But blessings are reserved for those who endure.
After carrying, lifting, grilling, and frying, just before lunchtime, the coveted opportunity finally came.
“Great job, Aria! Morning work is finished for now, so go dispose of the blood you collected and take a break! Gather it all in the far room; just throw it over there! I’ll finish cutting this and go eat lunch, so you can eat first!”
“Yes, Boss!”
It was my moment.
That large metal container I had been eyeing since earlier.
I won’t hide it; the biggest reason I didn’t shy away from hard work was to get the chance to move that container by myself.
Splash—
I placed my hand on the handle of the cart carrying the container, and the blood within sloshed gently.
This enormous container, nearly overflowing like it was too big for anyone but a grown man to handle, was over two-thirds full, and just gripping the handle brought a heavy sensation to my fingertips.
This is the real feast.
Merely pushing the cart already required a fair amount of strength, so I’d been anxious that the boss thought I wouldn’t be able to move it.
It was tough, but it felt rewarding after actively showing my strength despite my appearance.
Clang!
As soon as the door closed, I quickly scanned the disposal room.
Thanks to the boss finishing his morning tasks a bit early, no one was there yet.
This blood is now mine. I can drink it freely.
It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I need to finish before any other employees arrive.
I took out the straw I had carefully hidden in my pocket.
Technically, it was a crude item made from a hollow plant stem that resembled bamboo, so calling it a straw felt odd, but I prefer to focus on the actual use and intent behind things rather than their essential form.
What am I rambling about? I meant that if it’s used to drink liquids, it’s a straw, right? That’s what I intended.
Yes, I could say this line of thought occurred because I got too excited at the thought of food.
Oops, got a bit too enthusiastic? I took a deep breath twice, and though I thoroughly contemplated that I couldn’t drink directly, I dipped it straight into the container and put my mouth on it without hesitation.
Slurp—
The faint scent of blood rising from my mouth to my nose, moistening my brain directly.
Even though it’s not as good as fresh and warm live blood, it had a certain flavor of its own—blood from a pig slaughtered that morning.
Since I eat to survive, this is just the right amount to sustain me. After all, good things are said to taste bitter, right?
No way I could stick my straw into that putrid mixture swirling in the trash, though.
Creeeak!
How long had passed? The sound of the rusty door being opened snapped me back to reality.
Oh no! When did someone come in? I couldn’t even hear footsteps—
At that moment, I noticed the nearly empty container.
…Wait, have I drunk it all? Well, that explains not hearing any footsteps.
I’d been so focused on sucking down the blood like a vacuum that I couldn’t have heard anything outside.
Of course, I wouldn’t hear anything. Being consumed by my own instincts made me feel scared.
But there’s no time for self-recrimination.
While I was lost in thought, the metal door was still opening.
I had temporarily shoved the cart close to the trash to appear as if I were disposing of the blood, but if someone sees half of me inside the container, there’s no way to explain that.
Sensing the crisis, my body moved at supernatural speed.
Like a spring, I straightened my upper body, stuffed the straw inside my clothes, quickly stepped back, and pretended to act nonchalantly—
At that moment, my vision flipped.
Ugh, what was I thinking? Of course, I’d slip on the slick blood on the floor if I ran!
“Hey! Are you alright?! Did you hurt yourself—”
Thank goodness.
It didn’t seem suspicious after all. If the worst that happened was a bump on the back of my head from satisfying my thirst, I got off pretty cheap…
Rationalizing myself like that, I heard someone’s worried voice behind me, and I momentarily fainted.
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