“We cook food,” said 101.

71 stared with a blank expression for a while, then revolted in a calm voice.

“That’s not a plan,” He stood up and looked towards the larger groups, “Look at them.” He pointed towards the kids, who seemed to be in the middle of a serious discussion. “The responsibilities, are spread out by voting. Clearly, they would dump the task of feeding the entire class, onto us.”

“And whose fault might that be?” asked 18

After a while, the voting was completed, and the results were as follows.

1st—the Disciplinary Committee.

Total Members: 10 people

Head: Number 82.

Members: Number 48, 45, 84, 90, 31, 47, 45, 87,and 36

2nd—the Chefs.

Total Members: 3

Head: None

Members: Number 18, 71 and 101

3rd—The Organizers

Total Members: 15 people

Head: Number 178

Members: Number 12, 49, 54, 14, 56………. and 51

“My, my, one more vote and I’d have been the Head. How unfortunate, isn’t it?” said 84 with a sly smile. He had pointy ears and eyes like a fox’s.

82, who was on the receiving end of that smile, remained silent.

“But isn’t it interesting, if I'm correct, then the professors didn’t mandate anything—but simply planted an idea,” said 84.

The class was further renovated as more servants carried pieces of equipment inside the room. After a while, two compartments formed on the east of the class—each compartment had a professor’s room.

Two professors occupied each room. Both had similar triangular faces, with slightly wrinkled skin. Even the uniform they wore were identical copper robes.

After giving a small speech, one of the professors distributed the manuals to each individual.

Next Day,

“Not bad, not bad at all,” whispered 71 as he flipped the pages. Their group of 3 had now obtained a new room—the kitchen. Within one night, the servants had turned one of the new recently formed rooms in their class into a proper dining hall with long tables and chairs and a separate compartment for the cooks, filled with bouls, and fireplaces, and shelves with herbs and ingredients. Not to mention an entire separate shelf filled with books with a guide for chefs.

71 sat in one of the chairs, reading the guides. He liked reading books.

Although the guides felt mundane as they consisted of herbs and their properties, he still felt pleasant reading them. One look was all he required to memorize the texts.

“Aw, Aw” From the back, he could hear the little cries of 18. She was tasked with properly cutting the ingredients, and he could tell it was not going well.

Then, his sight fell upon 101, who rested on his back, in the desk in front.

“You realize, there’re countless productive things one can do except sleep,” asked 71 with an inscrutable expression.

“I’m doing something productive.” 101 closed his eyes. He wrapped his arms behind his head. They served as a pillow.

“Dreaming?”

“No. Thinking,” said 101. There were a lot of things on his mind. Some days ago, he was worried about the slave remedy that the professors fed the kid. It made no sense that they would provide the kids the means to prepare their food unless they’d other ways of controlling everyone.

And there was also the statement from one of the professors, “I advice you three—No matter what you cook, remember to put the grinded leaves of this herb, on every meal.”

The professor had said it so nonchalantly like it had no value. After 101 tasted the herb, he was sure it was a form of stimulant. So, the indifferent attitude towards it felt troubling.

“Found it!” 71 abruptly stood up.

101 sprung up his upper body and glimpsed at the turned page.

“Good job,” He whispered.

“Potage! You guys cooked up potage?” Number 82 facepalmed. The members of the Disciplinary Committee had entered the room earlier than others to ensure that process of food distribution goes without any disturbance.

“That’s disheartening,” said Number 84, who stood beside Number 82.

18, 71, and 101 listened from behind the wooden slab. The slab served as a Bar Top.

“From birth, we all have consumed only one thing as a food.” 82 said in a somber tone, “Now, they’re all expecting something new, like the dishes they read in the storybooks.” His gaze sharpened, “Especially, since they saw all those ingredients carried into this room by the servants in the morning.” He sighed, “Tell, me how would they feel when they realize—”

“The chefs decide what to cook,” 71 interrupted. “If they don’t want what we cook, then they’re free to cook themselves.”

Thump!

101 tapped 71’s shoulders and mumbled in a low voice, “Stop talking.”

“Rest assured,” 18 stepped up, with a bright smile, “Tonight everyone will rest with a contented stomach.”

And they did rest with a contented stomach. The food distributed did satisfy everyone. Right after the kids had entered the room, 18 had opened the lid of the oval boiling pot. The aromatic smell of potage captured everyone’s attention.

After that, the kids lined up, as instructed by the disciplinary committee. Then, the pots of spicy potage were distributed.

It was a simple dish—but for kids who had only savored tasteless liquid their entire life—it was heavenly.

Later, everyone left with a pleased expression.

“You, sure, it will work?” 71 asked after other kids left.

“Of course,” 101 said with adamant eyes, “Tomorrow, we will obtain all of the manuals.”

On his arms, he kept grinding a pair of leaves which later he handed to 18.

“Eh? Is this food?” asked 18.

“No,” He lifted one of her arms, “Apply it on your broken knuckles, and on the knife cut marks on your arms—Helps with healing.”

Next day,

No professors taught anything today. Yet, a gloomy atmosphere engulfed the class. Around 10 of the kids looked extremely pale. 1-2 even vomited blood.

82 grabbed 84’s collar, “I told you to warn everyone, not to attempt the mark awakening until we found out a way to test compatibility.”

“Calm down,” 84 said as he gulped, “Look at it this way,” His voice slightly wavered, “Now, we know the consequences of practicing something, we are incompatible with,” He continued, “Besides, most didn’t need any warnings. They were smart enough to not act till they were certain. As for the impatient and foolish ones—” He avoided eye contact, “They got what they deserved.”

82 pushed the collar and slammed 84 into the wall in front of everyone, “It’s not about what anyone deserves, it’s about you defying my orders.” His gaze was fierce like a beast’s. “Beware of your actions. You have the Medicinal Arts. So, heal them.” He repeated in a low yet threatening voice, “Beware.”

He let go of his grip and turned around. As he turned, from his peripheral vision, he could almost notice 84’s wily smile.

Clap!

84 clapped his arms and gathered everyone around. Then, the tasks got divided.

Top 12 students by grade, excluding 18 and 71, focused on decryption. The rest of the kids got assigned to make copies of Manuals.

Only 29 days remained.

That day, right before mealtime, the kids gathered once more. Everyone circularly sat near each other. The kids of the respective three groups clung to each other.

“*Ahem* We discovered something—” said number 90. She quivered, as she noticed all those gazes on her. “—Which he will explain about.” She sat down, as she pointed towards Number 84.

84 slightly frowned. Number 90 was the one who had initially insisted on doing the orientation but now suddenly backed down. It was supposed to be her job.

“As you all know, I was the one who received the medicinal arts—” 84 said as he stood up, “—whose copies I shared with three more people,” He continued in a confident manner, “And, as we know, some of the people who tried the Mark Awakening Ritual by themselves, received internal injuries—” He could feel 82’s gaze on him, as he completed that statement. “—which was unfortunate. Still, we found out some valuable information instead. Using Medical Arts, our group deciphered the severity of injuries one receives upon a failed ritual.

Suppose we see failures as trials. Then, we all get to have three different trials until we reach a fatal point.”

“But there are over 100 Dark Summoning Arts,” asked one of the kids.

“Indeed, which is why we are working on a way, to heal or minimize the injuries. But I’m afraid one month isn’t enough preparation time.” said 84.

“Martial Arts can minimize the injuries by a high degree,” said Number 178 from a corner. She was the one who received the sole Manual of Martial Arts.

“Which you refused to share,” said 82, looking at her.

“Well, your group members refused to share the Medicinal Arts with anyone outside of your group. So, why should I?” She said in a cold voice.

82’s eyes narrowed. “Very well then, it seems to master the Dark Arts, we need collective knowledge on both the other arts. So, I’m willing to share, if you are.”

His gaze met hers. After a while, she nodded.

“If everyone is willing to share, then wouldn’t it be better if we learned either Medicinal Arts or Martial Arts, which would help us avoid punishment,” asked Number 36.

“Tell me, if a sworn of bees come flying towards you, then do you think punching or kicking would do you any good?” asked Number 50 while glaring towards 36.

“It still would not work,” said 178, “There are over 200 forms of Martial Arts—and having a certain grasp of it, is entirely different than mastering it.”

“Likewise for the Medicinal Arts,” said 84. “Meanwhile Summoning Arts requires only to form a Soul Mark, to master.”

“Not to interrupt but—” Number 12 spoke out, “Has anyone considered the fact, that we only have 58 Dark Summoning Art Manuals. We’re missing over 42 Manuals.”

…

Everyone sighed. There were many problems, and most had spent the entire day brainstorming. After all that work, everyone now just wanted to eat a proper meal. And lighten up.

But the chefs had different plans…..