Veridis Quo

Chapter 33 - In the Between

As an omnivore – categorized carnivore by the simpleton minds of the masses – finding a decent source of protein was treacherous.

While there was soy mimicry, supplements in the forms of medicine and weird salts I wasn't going anywhere near till they tested that shit for cancer, it just didn't hit the same as a hamburger.

I could never think of the cheap delicacy without the animal kingdom's twisted evil twin brother. It was fucking disgusting. Did they not know how romantic bugs and diseases were? Playing a game of 'Kill, Fuck, Marry,' the parasites were the succubi of the trio.

Sometimes, I asked myself: 'What would I do for an honest-to-God burger? A pair of crispy potato buns, freshly picked vegetables, the ultimate mustard sauce, and real meat.

Unfake, authentic, medium-rare cooked piece of processed beef topped with a generous layer of melted cheddar.

I was salivating at the image, helping me with the food I was currently consuming.

Unfortunately, I was a realist and understood the impossibility of this fantasy. Putting the whole sapience thing aside, how would one go about acquiring the flesh of a newly deceased? Did crime pay in that department? And if I calculated the risk, would a hamburger be worth the cost in the end?

One of the aspects that made the meal so appetizing was the price; low investment, high reward. Who in their right mind would pay four thousand yen for a hamburger? And that was only the hamburger itself! What of the fries? And the soft drink to wash it all down?

A disgrace to idealist capitalism. The best way to fight them is to never buy.

Swallowing, I exhaled through my nose, the bread between my hands sogging by the minute.

Comparing it to a hamburger was pathetic. It was like comparing the difference between your faucet at home and Niagara falls. Did it even exist nowadays? That was a matter for later in the evening.

Anyhow, I wasn't spitting out the bites and my body wasn't rejecting the sustenance, so it wasn't too bad. Well, it obviously was alright for an omelet sandwich.

Held together by a sauce I couldn't quite decipher and my grabby hands, three slices of tomato and one of lettuce were ruled by the room temperature scrambled egg. The salt levels were acceptable, too.

A lot of herbivores had a problem with salt in their diets, some could even become intoxicated because of a salt lick, hence the namesake.

Heh, now that was a way to farm views on stream; invite a herb guest and gaslight them into getting high via funny rock.

...

Maybe that wasn't the best of my ideas, that was going into the waiting room with the other deviants.

Taking another chomp, I let out a pleased hum, content with mediocrity.

"Is it to your liking?" Asked a familiar voice, one I'd grown to love wholly.

"Mhm," I finished the bite, "yes, it's good."

"I'm glad~" She chirped, cracking another peanut like the skull of a tiny rodent.

Adjusting my position on the bench, I watched her from the corner of my eye. She went to grab another member of the nut family – a chestnut – and effortlessly proceeded to crack it open with nothing but the power of her oiled, sharpened beak.

The first time I saw it happen, ten minutes ago, I was startled by the sudden noise. Then, I remembered who she was and started on my own meal.

I wouldn't call her choice a full-course, though. More like... supper? But at noon. A heavy snack.