Chapter 2: the limit. Eight pieces. The least amount of blood we can reserve. The Overlords' written regulations established to safeguard their blood supply. their supply of food.

In the end, that is all that matters to them. It is the only explanation for any of us still having breath. Even while it might sound harsh, the world hasn't changed all that much from before. No longer do the Overlords just open up people's veins at random. They soon discovered that maintaining society's natural course was far more beneficial. How do they obtain blood then? the same manner that the wealthy always acquire the money they desire. They quickly and openly executed anyone attempting to purchase even the barest of necessities with anything other than blood. Blood became the sole acceptable form of payment. It performed flawlessly. It didn't take long for the Overlords to have more blood than they could drink in a thousand years since blood always has a way of rising to the top.

But right now, none of it was important to me.

I yelled louder than I cared if anyone heard. "Really, you won't do it?" Jesus Philip, thanks for attending my wedding. You attended Katy's baptism. You won't do this for her, will you? I punched the counter with my fist. Dammit, look at me!

He continued to ignore my gaze. He said, "I'm sorry, Frank, I can't.

"Fine," I replied. "Screw you," 

Philip cried out to me as I spun around to head for the door. ‘Wait.’

I spun around and saw him clutching a tiny whiskey bottle that he had hidden under the counter. I was given it by him.

'At least sip a beverage. Definitely useful for you.

Typical Philip. He wouldn't break the law to save the life of a child, but drinking at work? It was all right. I grabbed the bottle from his grasp nonetheless and marched out the door into the smoggy street. I ripped off the cap, took a sip, walked a little distance, marched back, screamed, and threw the bottle to the ground. It broke glass pieces and whiskey all over the place.

Not all of the glass broke up into dust, but the majority did. A particularly ugly splinter approximately the length of my finger caught my attention. I took it in my palm and flipped it over. It was sharp, very sharp, and had a wonderful weight to it. sharper than a knife. It appeared to be a gift from the cosmos at that precise moment. A sign.

While holding the fragment in my palm, I peered at the pharmacist. I was now free to take anything I wanted. which I required. Philip lacked courage. He would not attempt to obstruct me. I could conceal, even though the police would be chasing me. They would ultimately catch up to us, but not before the medication had a chance to take effect.

I moved in the direction of the door. Without me, Katy will be just fine. She will be cared for. One more action. Human lives are not wasted by the Overlords. Too much is invested in our blood for that. One more action. Although… I stopped. I had heard tales about some of those facilities for orphans. bad narratives Stories of hardship and abuse. I backed up a step. another follows. then another

I sagged to the ground as the first tear started to fall down my face.

How long I sat there is unknown. It might have been a few moments, or perhaps hours. I only know that I lived in my own particular hell during that period, however long it may have been.

I stood up as soon as I realised what had happened. I only had one more choice. I was told by another cashier about a man he knew who owned a warehouse on the outskirts of town. a man who wasn't as concerned about abiding by the Overlord's regulations. It was a danger. The penalties for black market traders were a reflection of the threat the unregistered economy posed to the Overlords' whole system. Death was the result, not just for the offender but also for their close relatives. Katy might not make it if I entered this warehouse. But she would undoubtedly perish if I didn't. I had no other option.

The warehouse was hidden from prying eyes in a maze of alleyways, where I discovered it. It appeared to me to be a haven for small-time criminals, offering protection and numerous escape routes.

I yelled as I approached a garage door that was open. ‘Hello. Is there anyone here?

A ruddy-faced man with a grin emerged from behind a stack of crates.

Can I assist you? he inquired.

I certainly hope so. I came from Benny. You could sell me some things, he said.

The man greeted me and welcomed me inside as his smile grew into a grin that displayed a row of immaculate teeth. So come on in, come on in. Any of Benny's friends are also my friends.

He opened the door wide and gave me an eager look. I walked in after taking a deep breath. The man led me through his maze-like collection of boxes and crates, and I followed until we reached a pair of plush floral recliners and a little wooden coffee table.

He slouched into one chair while indicating the other. "Don't be afraid. Please sit down.

I cautiously sat on the edge of the chair so I could see my host. His smile had remained on his face the entire time. He was also overweight, which is uncommon these days. His company was obviously doing well.