In the carriage, Richard rubbed his stomach. The exquisite meal at the Dawn family’s home had been comforting and filling.
He had just returned to his room and sat down when the food in his stomach was already mostly digested by the [Eating] Skill.
On the panel, the progress bar for [Eating] Level 2 was full.
The feast at the Dawn family’s home was what pushed it over the finish line.
He invested the Points and upgraded.
[Eating] Level 2 → Level 3.
Richard closed his eyes, sensing the subtle change within his body.
[Eating·Filtering].
His body had gained a significant resistance to toxins, putrefaction, and parasitic pathogens.
The trait had been unlocked, but Richard felt no immediate physical change.
He didn’t go looking for poison to test it. There was no need right now.
The most fundamental abilities of [Eating]—tempering his appetite and extracting all nutrients—had become even more robust.
’From now on, if I eat that bland oatmeal, my body will probably wring every last benefit out of each oat, refusing to let a single bit go to waste.’
Having reached Level 3, Richard went ahead and previewed the advancement conditions and trait for Level 5.
"[Eating] Level 5 Unlock Conditions:
Level 4 progress 100%;
Points;
Voluntarily ingest one portion of a Behind-the-Curtain Product or one portion of Deep Ether Condensate, and have the body metabolize it completely."
"Unlock Trait—[Decaying].
You can safely ingest and metabolize the flesh and bone of Behind-the-Curtain Evil Beings, as well as various low-contamination substances, without being tainted, and extract usable nutrients from them."
Richard mentally placed [Filtering] and [Decaying] side by side. Using his [Rationality] Skill, he carefully compared them until he understood the key difference.
At this tier, [Filtering] performed the job of "expulsion."
Toxins, rot, parasites—the body recognized them as filth, braced itself, and pushed them out unchanged, protecting itself from harm.
It was a floodgate, only blocking, never taking.
[Decaying], on the other hand, performed the job of "transformation."
The flesh and bone that should never be swallowed, the contaminated substances an ordinary body could never withstand...
Instead of pushing them out, it would break them down, pulverize them, and reassemble them into nutrients the body could use.
Turning the rotten into the miraculous.
Richard recalled the book, *Behind-the-Curtain Products*.
In the section on "flesh and bone," the author had written with grave emphasis: *Most are harmful. Do not ingest, wear, or store.*
That one phrase—*Do not ingest*—had relegated an entire category of items from Behind the Curtain to a realm ordinary people couldn’t even touch.
The remains of a Ghoul, the corpse wax of a Swamp Corpse, flesh and blood rotted by Ether... one whiff could bring misfortune, let alone a taste.
But once [Decaying] was unlocked, that line would move.
Richard’s breathing grew lighter, almost unconsciously.
[Walking] governed his travel, [Sleep] his rest, and [Breathing] his injuries.
And now, with [Decaying]...
What was a wasteland in the eyes of others would be a land of plenty for him.
’It’s not just about eating to survive. Maybe I can use this to make my body even stronger...’
Just as the idea was firing him up, Richard re-read the unlock conditions, and his enthusiasm instantly cooled.
"Voluntarily ingest one portion of a Behind-the-Curtain Product or one portion of Deep Ether Condensate, and have the body metabolize it completely."
This felt a bit like a chicken-and-egg problem.
[Decaying] was the ability to "safely ingest harmful things."
But to unlock [Decaying], he first had to ingest a Behind-the-Curtain Product.
Without the protection of [Decaying], how could he possibly dare to do so?
Richard thought about it and realized it wasn’t a complete dead end.
Behind-the-Curtain Products were also graded.
The "harmful, do not ingest" flesh and bone were in the most dangerous category and couldn’t be touched for now.
But plants like Ashen Grass and Many-eyed Black Moss were only mildly toxic and hadn’t soaked in Ether for very long.
With the floodgate of [Filtering] to protect him, if he carefully consumed just a tiny amount, he might be able to handle it.
As for that "one portion of Deep Ether Condensate"...
Richard’s gaze drifted subconsciously to the small bottle hidden on his person.
The Condensed Liquid Prometheus had given him was a potent substance, meant for Nurturing Marvels and as a last resort in battle.
But the more he thought about it, the more he felt it was a bad idea.
The stuff was as potent as a shot of adrenaline to the veins. Prometheus had warned him not to use it to heal circuit damage, precisely because it was "too intense."
If he really gulped down a whole portion, who could say whether he’d unlock the trait or just burn a hole through himself first?
’The botanical route is definitely safer.’
’It’s just, to meet this condition, I’d have to wait until I have more resources, and choose a safe time when I’m alone and won’t be disturbed. A time when I can use [Healing] as a safety net if something goes wrong.’
’I can’t rush this.’
Richard filed this away in his mental ledger of long-term plans.
Sooner or later, he would have this ability to "eat his way through the world Behind the Curtain."
In the morgue, two levels below ground, Old Big had been working for several days straight.
On one end of his worktable was a messy stack of death registers. On the other was the job that had just been brought in this morning.
When the stretcher was carried in, the two odd-job men had to turn their faces away.
"Mr. Bigelow, it’s another one with no known origin."
The older odd-job man set a form down on the table.
"Pulled from the canal near Mill Street. No one’s claimed him, so he’s stopping here with you for now."
"I know," Old Big said, waving a hand dismissively.
The odd-job men left in a hurry, not wanting to linger a moment longer in such an inauspicious place.
Old Big put on his reading glasses and pulled back the oilcloth.
The thing lying on the table could no longer be called a face.
Everything above the cheekbones was a collapsed, grayish-black ruin. The facial features had been scooped out from the inside, bit by bit.
The flesh clung to the bone, looking as if it had been both burned and waterlogged.
The handiwork of the Echo Society. Of course Old Big recognized it.
He began by following procedure.

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