Evan was in the dormitory. He was sitting in an armchair. The girls stood behind him. In front of him sat Professor Gator. Just one look at the old alligator made it clear that a serious conversation awaited them. Shawn stood beside him. The ram kept glancing away, unable to meet anyone's eyes. That was unusual for him.
"I have some news for you. Especially for Evan. I'll start with the good."
Gator let out a heavy sigh.
"First, you will receive a reward for helping capture the Noctevore brothers and their sponsor. After taxes, it will be two hundred and sixty thousand."
The girls' jaws dropped.
"Seriously?!"
"Over a quarter million?!"
Frida was the first to recover.
"Ylva…"
Gator raised a hand.
"You don't need to worry. No one intends to prosecute your friend."
Frida exhaled in relief, then fixed Gator with a piercing stare.
"The Council is considering recruiting her."
Frida bit back a curse.
"And what about those damn foxes? Have they already been chopped into pieces?"
"No. The decision is still awaiting a final stamp, but I can already tell you it will be… Line No. 8."
Then something happened that Evan did not expect at all. Frida began trembling, her ears flattening as she whimpered like a beaten dog.
"Line 8… you mean…"
"Minced. Yes."
Gator looked at them with cold confirmation—so cold that the Arctic would seem like the Hawaiian Islands by comparison. In that moment, the blood drained from all the girls' faces.
"Factory mince?! The worst possible meat-grade classification?! Something that's pure profanation?! The only thing worse than that is synth-meat?!"
Callisa was in shock.
"Isn't that just cruel?!"
Aiko and Frida shuddered slightly.
"A complete negation of existence. Oblivion assigned by a machine. The denial of soul and structure."
Morona hid her face behind her claws. Shawn merely trembled. Gator cleared his throat.
"I know it's brutal. But you must understand something. Our entire society is built on a certain compromise, whose simplest visualization is the Meat Act. It is respect for the right to say no, and recognition that there are certain—perhaps not entirely healthy—desires that drive everyone either onto the plate or to the table. The Noctevore brothers, Albendine, their staff, and their guests violated that Act in the worst possible way. Therefore, the punishment must be appropriate."
Evan slowly raised a hand.
"Can't you spare them?"
Gator flinched slightly.
"I know they won't escape death. Especially after how many were found in their basement. But the Noctevore brothers and their staff showed… well… professionalism when they… you know. It would be hard for me to think of them being turned into mince. Maybe at least into carcasses or portions."
Gator gave him a stern look, then muttered as if calculating something. Finally, he sighed.
"Do you mean only the Noctevore brothers and their employees, or everyone?"
"Only the brothers and the employees. When I think about that… fox and the guests…"
Evan clenched his teeth. Gator nodded slightly.
"I understand. If you weren't one of their victims, I wouldn't even consider it. But given that you are, I will take it into account."
Evan gave a faint smile. Gator grunted.
"Unfortunately, there is something else I must tell you. At the last Council meeting, one of the topics discussed was Evan. A motion was raised that he should be eaten."
A shudder ran through everyone in the room. Frida was the first to regain her voice.
"Who came up with that? That priest Austin? The high cleric of meat-junkies? Aren't his own idiots enough for him?"
Frida growled. Evan was hers, and she had no intention of letting anyone intrude on their relationship—especially someone she considered a religious fanatic.
"No. The motion was submitted by Miediedew."
Gator looked at them even more seriously than after their wild chase through the city.
"I understand your outrage. I was irritated myself when I first heard it, but you need to hear something else."
As he explained, the girls' mood shifted—from anger to unease, and finally to dread.
"Humans appear only once every dozen or so years?!"
"Always just one?!"
"And they survive only a few weeks at most?!"
Evan felt as if some invisible force was pressing him into the armchair. The girls clung to him as if trying to hide him from the world.
"Unfortunately, yes. That's how it looks. Statistics give Evan no chance. And someone has already tried to eat him illegally. Miediedew holds strong cards in his paws. The past works against Evan."
The girls looked at Gator—some pleading, others threatening. Suddenly Aiko smiled as if struck by inspiration.
"I've got it. We'll clone Evan and that'll solve it."
The girls nodded. Gator sighed.
"The Council is already pursuing actions in that regard, and unfortunately, it won't work."
Aiko was about to ask why, but Gator's look made it clear the topic was closed.
"Actually, why do humans die so quickly?"
"Good question, Miss Vulpine. Unfortunately, we don't know. Councilor Puszek claims it's because we're doing something wrong…"
Grida snorted.
"Puszek… if she had her way, we'd all be walking around in muzzles and eating nothing but soy."
"Please restrain your tongue, Miss Vollmond."
Gator sighed again.
"Unfortunately, the situation is this: Miediedew would like to eat Evan. He's willing to accept whatever conditions Evan sets. Puszek would most likely isolate Evan somewhere. Austin would turn Evan into some kind of meat idol. There were several other proposals, but none of them are good."
Frustration crept into Gator's voice. He was clearly tired of it all.
"However, I managed to negotiate a compromise that gives Evan a chance."
The atmosphere grew so thick it could have been cut with a knife.
Gator looked them in the eyes.
"Patronage."
Silence fell.
"Shawn, as someone under patronage, could you explain what that means?"
Shawn hesitated for a moment, then cleared his throat and began.
"Well… first of all, you'd gain protection. You'd be chipped, and your patron would know where you are. No one would dare touch you. A situation like the club wouldn't have a chance of happening again, but…"
Shawn fiddled with his fingers for a moment.
"The patron decides your life. Who you can marry, what job you take. Well, everything depends on the specific arrangement."
He lifted his collar as proof.
Evan's face fell. It was an obvious dilemma. Freedom in exchange for safety.
"You must understand one thing. You have the right to refuse patronage. But then you'll be on your own."
Evan swallowed. He understood what that meant. Without protection, a situation like the one at the club could happen again. No—not could. It would, sooner or later. He felt himself sinking into dark thoughts.
Frida's low growl pulled him out of them.
"Who?"
Gator inhaled deeply and said:
"The Director of Tenebrae Academy, Master Chef Arslan Flambe. The Chief Commissioner for Meat and Slaughter, Ernst Vollmond. Actress and adult film producer Valentine Onyx."
Evan needed a moment to process the names. The principal. Frida's father. Shawn's boss.
"Each of them has a vision of your future."
Gator rose from the armchair.
"As I said, you are not obligated to accept patronage. But we expect you to meet with them and hear their offers. We're giving you until the end of the semester to decide—that is, a few months."
Gator began heading for the door. As he was leaving, he said:
"Evan, I don't know what you'll choose, but I hope it's a satisfying life."
As he crossed the threshold, he added:
"Or an end."