Chapter Four: The Uproar Over the Scramble for Food

As soon as Brother Song finished shouting, the enforcers patrolling the aisle pulled out their keys and unlocked the shackles on our feet. Still, those of us who were new didn't dare to stand up right away. We glanced around, carefully observing the actions of the others.

Only when we saw the more seasoned workers on the outside rise and leave did we dare to get up with them.

It wasn’t until I left the hall that I realized the whole group was dashing toward the cafeteria. From the way they rushed, it was clear: if you got there late, there’d be nothing left to eat.

The cafeteria was located behind the office building. Our customer service department was on the ninth floor, and the elevators would obviously be too slow, so the majority of the “piglets” sprinted straight down the stairs—some even slid down the banisters.

Though I was starving, I didn’t even try to squeeze into the stairwell. In my current state, never mind climbing nine floors—just standing and taking a few steps already drained all my strength.

So, I could only shuffle slowly toward the elevator. But before my hand could even reach the down button, I was kicked hard in the back.

“Damn it! Useless piglet! No performance, no results, and you still want to take the elevator?” The person was that blond-haired enforcer. While he shouted at me, seven or eight piglets swaggered into the elevator behind him, including 2044—the one whose two fingers I’d bitten off. He watched me now, gloating.

At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to punch him, to break the rest of his fingers too. But I knew that would be suicidal. I could only swallow my anger and follow the crowd into the stairwell.

By the time I finally made it to the cafeteria, my vision was already blurring.

Watching the crowd surging into the cafeteria, I could only drag myself along, stopping every few steps.

The cafeteria had three floors. The top floor was reserved for managers and leaders. The second floor was for piglets who had met their performance targets. As for those of us at the bottom who failed to deliver results, we were forced to wait on the first floor for leftovers from above.

There weren’t even tables or chairs here, just several large slop buckets beneath chutes that connected to the upper floors. Years of pouring slop had left the chutes coated in thick, greasy residue, festooned with moldy, decaying vegetable leaves and grains of rice. The stench of rot and mildew filled the air.

Even so, some people reached up to scrape off the filth and stuff it into their mouths; others even fought over a single rotten piece of cabbage dangling from a chute.

Later, I learned that these people were from a batch of piglets who’d been here longer than us, who’d gone even longer without food because they’d never made their quotas.

“You’re hurt!” Suddenly, a soft voice came from behind me. I turned to see 2050 standing there—I didn’t know her name, so I called her by her number.

Though I was weak, I forced a smile and thanked her.

“Thank you for your concern!”

“It’s nothing! I saw what happened in the square. You’re a good person! I’d like to find someone to stick with, to look out for each other,” 2050 said frankly.

I was a little taken aback, about to reply, when the crowd suddenly grew restless.

The chutes above the slop buckets had started to operate. As all manner of food waste tumbled down, everyone surged forward like madmen.

Though it was slop, it contained not just leftovers, but drink bottles, wrappers, even napkins used to blow noses. The starving piglets didn’t care, shoveling handfuls into their mouths—fish bones, shards of bone, anything, regardless of whether it could be swallowed.

Though I was revolted, I knew that if I didn’t eat now, I’d starve to death. So, summoning what little strength I had, I squeezed toward the front of the crowd.

Just as I got near, someone roughly dragged me out of the way and took my spot.

At that moment, 2050 suddenly squatted beside me.

“You look like you’re too weak from hunger!” she said, tilting her head in an oddly endearing gesture.

I didn’t answer, thinking to myself how incongruous it was for her to act cute in a place like this.

Seeing my silence, she produced a pale, hard steamed bun from somewhere. “I smuggled it out of the detention room earlier. Here, take it!”

A surge of emotion swept over me. I thanked her repeatedly and reached for the bun, but hesitated.

“What about you? What will you eat?”

2050 blinked, then slowly pulled out another bun and took a bite. “I won’t starve.”

Speechless, I took the bun and was about to eat when another sharp-eyed piglet lunged over and snatched it, stuffing it into his mouth—it was 2044.

Regret washed over me. My lunch, gone in an instant.

But I couldn’t let it go. Maybe it was the hunger clouding my mind, or maybe I just couldn’t swallow the indignity. I walked up behind him and kicked him hard in the jaw as he chewed.

He coughed, spewing wet crumbs onto the ground. The half bun in his hand dropped; I snatched it and crammed it into my mouth.

I didn’t even dare waste time chewing—if it wasn’t in my stomach, it wasn’t really mine. I swallowed the hard bun whole, nearly choking, before it finally slid down.

2044 glared at me with venom, then bent to scrape up the crumbs he’d spat out, stuffing them into his mouth—only to have other piglets lick the floor clean before he could finish.

He shot me another hateful look, then suddenly shouted, “I saw it! Those two have food!”

Before I could react, seven or eight desperate, wild-eyed piglets pinned me to the ground, clawing and searching me, even prying open my mouth to fish inside. My gums and cheeks were torn and bleeding.

Eventually, finding nothing, they dispersed. If they’d had any strength left, they might have beaten me out of spite.

2050 fared even worse. If they searched me just for food, their intentions toward her were far darker.

By the time I got up, she was surrounded, invisible beneath the crush of bodies, her screams piercing through.

I knew I was powerless—but remembering what had happened in the square, and my own past, I couldn’t accept this.

I rushed in, only to be shoved aside. In the chaos, someone collided with me, and I fell hard. When I got up, I realized I was holding something sharp—a chicken bone.

Without hesitation, I stabbed the nearest person.

A scream rang out; blood spurted as he clutched his wounded arm and retreated.

Brandishing the bone, I stabbed at those around 2050. The wounds weren’t fatal, but the pain toppled them, leaving them howling.

A few tried to fight back, but with relentless stabbing, I drove them back, one after another.

It was as if I’d gone mad, my eyes red with fury. I fixed on 2044, the one who’d betrayed us, and aimed for his throat.

“Wait!” 2050’s hoarse cry snapped me back to reality. I looked at the blunted chicken bone in my hand, at the dozen or so piglets I’d wounded—some in the leg, some in the shoulder, some in the cheek.

I dropped the bone, unable to believe what I’d done.

I turned to 2050. She lay on the ground, hair disheveled, face and neck covered in bruises, her thin clothes torn to shreds. Tears brimmed in her eyes.

At that sight, whatever guilt I’d felt vanished without a trace.

Recalling the person who’d handed me the chicken bone, I looked around, but couldn’t find him. I remembered there’d been a faint scent of gardenia perfume—could it be…?

Meanwhile, 2044, realizing his plan had backfired, scrambled to flee, not caring whether he’d eaten his fill.

2050 limped to her feet, forcing a smile at me. “Thank you.”

Before I could reply, a dozen masked enforcers stormed in, led by Brother Can. 2044, having escaped, was now frantically gesturing at his side.

My heart sank. “That bastard! No wonder he ran—he’s gone to snitch!”

At the sight of the masked men, the piglets all shrank back, making room in terror.

“Brother Can! It’s him!” 2044 pointed straight at me.

“Brother Can, this guy started a fight! He doesn’t respect you at all, someone like him—”

“That’s it?” Brother Can turned to 2044, who stammered. Brother Can gestured.

The blond enforcer understood, slapping 2044 hard across the face.

“Damn you! Useless piglet! You bother Brother Can over something this trivial!”

“Brother Can, I was just thinking of your—”

Another slap.

“Still spouting nonsense!”

Another slap.

“Ow! Please, big brother, don’t hit my face! Hit my ass instead!”

“Your ass? That’s exactly what I’ll hit!”

Another slap.

After the blond finished, Brother Can kicked 2044, sending him tumbling out of the cafeteria and down the steps.

“Drag this windbag away! Pull out all his teeth, then lock him in the water cell!”

With that, several masked men hauled 2044 away, his screams echoing behind.

Once 2044 was dealt with, Brother Can glanced at me and the wounded piglets. Seeing the injuries weren’t serious, he relaxed and shouted, “Take all these fighters away! Lock them all in the water cell! Let them learn a lesson!”

So, seven or eight of us were herded by the masked men to a stinking pond near the cafeteria, where they opened up several large cages and ordered us inside.

Thus, a dozen or so of us were crammed into three cages. In mine, there were five piglets altogether, four of whom I’d stabbed.

The cages were small—barely two square meters. With five people inside, it was unbearably cramped.

As the name implied, the water cells were cages submerged in water. I was tall, so the water came up to my chest, but for the shorter ones, it reached their shoulders; the shortest had the water up to his chin.