Became a Failed Experimental Subject Chapter 13: They’re Kids

All the money I earned this ti was for one thing: to eat my fill of top-grade beef.

I decided that the best way to grill as much premium beef as I could wasn’t at so fancy restaurant, but outdoors.

I’d been saving diligently despite spending on food every day, so I cleaned out the at section at the supermarket.

Top-grade beef cost three tis more than regular at. But I had money.

To that, I added a gas burner, tongs, disposable plates, an iron griddle, salt, and instant rice.

“I-I’ll help you ring this up...”

What I bought ca out to about twenty servings. I wiped out most of the money I’d worked so hard to save, and walked out of the store happy.

Both arms loaded with at and rice, I made my way to a nearby park and started setting up to grill.

I hadn’t even started cooking, but just seeing the raw at had my mouth watering.

That glistening white fat... the marbling, as they called it. It was like I could see the flavor. It felt like I was tasting it with my eyes. Truly... heavenly.

“Gulp...”

Tat-tat-tat, I lit the portable gas burner and waited until the iron griddle was hot enough before placing the at on it.

Chiiiiiiiiii— Ah... that satisfying sound... Just hearing it filled with a sense of peace.

Wasn’t it said that beef tastes best when it’s slightly undercooked?

I couldn’t wait any longer.

Without even cutting it, I grabbed a large, salt-sprinkled piece of at and shoved the whole thing in my mouth.

“Mmmmgh...!”

It was delicious.

A deep, rich umami. The flavor of the juices. The tenderness of the texture. Simple, yet absolute gourt.

This was top-grade beef... Ah... I’m alive. I can feel that I’m alive.

I opened the lid of a self-heating rice pack and poured in so water, causing the heating elent attached to the corner to boil it instantly.

I peeled back the top just a little and placed it over the steam to let it warm up.

Then, just as I went to place another fresh slab of beef on the griddle—

“...Gulp.”

“Hm?”

From the bushes in the park, a bunch of dirty kids in ragged clothes were staring at , swallowing hard.

To be precise, they were staring at the at sizzling on my grill.

“...It’s mine.”

I looked at them and waved my hand as if to shoo them away.

But they didn’t leave. Instead, they stepped out of the bushes and cautiously walked up to .

“M-Mister...”

“J-Just one bite... just one...”

“Get lost. It’s mine.”

I stared coldly down at them and pulled the bag of at closer into my arms.

The kids looked absolutely starving, drooling from their mouths.

Sunken cheeks, wrists so thin the bones were visible, elbows poking out of skin stretched too tight.

They hadn’t eaten properly in days—maybe even weeks.

“...Huuuh.”

I hadn’t brought any scissors, assuming I wouldn’t need to cut the at, so I sighed and picked up a disposable plate.

Using the sharp edge of the plate, I quickly sliced through the at still on the griddle.

Then, gripping the tongs, I placed the at onto the plate and handed it toward the kids.

They rushed in all at once.

“Just one bite.”

“Mm—! Mmpph...!”

“Gah...! Guh...! Haaa...!”

“Urgh... urgh...!”

The kids weren’t just hungry—they were desperate.

Even though the at was hot, they shoved it into their mouths, struggling not to cry out from the heat, terrified soone might take it away. They stole from each other, fought for it, stuffed their faces like wild animals.

Glancing at the fully heated rice, I handed them the bowl.

They grabbed it with both hands and shoveled it into their mouths.

“Kehak! Khek! Kugh!”

When one kid choked and spit out so of the at, another imdiately picked it up and ate it.

They were still hungry—licking the bowls clean for any leftover juice.

Without saying a word, I placed another piece of at on the griddle.

“Eat slowly.”

Judging by their condition, they were doing this because they were truly starving.

It didn’t sit right with to eat at by myself in front of starving kids.

I figured I’d feed them just enough to send them on their way. Hopefully, they’d fill up more on the rice than the at.

I pulled out a few more packs of instant rice and began heating them.

That’s when a whole new group of kids suddenly burst out from the bushes.

“M- too! Mister, I want a bite too!”

“Please! Please!”

...That I hadn’t accounted for.

I awkwardly started cutting more at in front of the ten or so kids.

The mont it was cut, it vanished. I put more at on the grill—it vanished.

My at... my top-grade beef...

“Just one more bite... Mister... just one more...”

“Just one more... just one more...”

“...That’s a lot of ‘just one more.’”

In the end, the kids ate all the at. And all the rice.

I didn’t feel bad about it, but I did feel... empty.

I looked around at the now-full, sprawled-out kids and sighed.

I was hungry.

“...They ate all my at...”

“S-sorry...”

One of the girls—looked to be the oldest among them—ca forward and bowed her head.

Maybe it was the hunger, but I suddenly felt drool running down my chin and wiped it away as I spoke.

“Bring your parents.”

“Our parents... don’t exist...”

“Yeah... doesn’t really seem like the kind of thing kids with parents would do.”

I’d sort of expected it.

Now I had confirmation that there was no way to get the money back from their parents.

I spoke bluntly, and the girl bowed so low her face completely disappeared from view, shad.

“Don’t get the wrong idea. I don’t have parents either.”

I’d only asked just in case. If they had parents, I might’ve given them the rest of my money and told them to get the kids fed properly, maybe find a temp job to do it.

Feeling the regret hit again, I picked up a small piece of leftover at from the grill and popped it in my mouth.

That’s when the girl hesitated and spoke to again.

“Mister... are you an orphan too?”

“An orphan?”

“Did... your parents die to a monster?”

“Yeah.”

So they were orphans from monster attacks too.

These days, that kind of thing was so common it wasn’t even surprising anymore.

“...I’m sorry.”

I didn’t reply. There wasn’t anything to gain from saying more—nothing that would make anyone feel better.

The girl must’ve realized she said sothing wrong. She apologized.

Then suddenly, like she rembered sothing important, she flinched and asked:

“U-Um... Mister... what ti is it right now?”

I checked the position of the sun, then laid one finger across my palm.

With my thumb pointing south at this angle, and my middle finger pointing east, the shadow's angle told —

“It’s 5:48 p.m.”

“...Is that really right?”

“It is.”

I confird the exact ti based on the shadow, using my monster-enhanced perception, but the girl frowned, like she couldn’t believe it.

Still, she clapped her hands and rushed to get the seated kids to their feet.

“Everyone get up! We don’t have ti! Hurry!”

Without even a word of thanks for the food, the girl gathered the kids and quickly led them out of the park.

After eating my top-grade beef... they just left.

A little annoyed, I started packing up the dirty plates and gas burner, watching them disappear into the distance.

“Tch.”

Kids these days really had no manners.

Maybe because they didn’t have parents? No one ever taught them to say sothing as basic as thank you for the al?

After cleaning the area thoroughly, I placed the gas burner and griddle—too awkward to carry around—next to a trash bin, then looked back toward where the kids had gone.

Nope. This won’t do.

They should at least be taught to say thank you for the food.

Hooop—I’d gotten good enough at controlling my strength to jump high without wrecking the ground, and landed quietly on a nearby rooftop. I spread my senses.

The monster core inside activated just slightly—not even to Murder-Class level—as low-frequency waves rippled out.

Echoes bounced back to my senses—echolocation, sothing any monster could use.

I located my prey and sprinted across the rooftops, coming to a stop above the kids’ heads.

They were stealing from a truck parked near a restaurant.

“I fed a bunch of little thieves.”

The truck was one of those governnt rigs—they pick up special materials from ruined zones in nearby districts.

Inside were broken monster alarm devices.

The kids, their skinny arms slipping through the bars built around the truck to prevent the cargo from falling during transport, were prying off parts from the equipnt one by one.

“Hmmm...”

As I watched, I felt... sothing was off.

****

In this world, orphans created by monster attacks are everywhere.

There were just as many of them as kids raised under their parents’ protection—more than the governnt could possibly handle.

But soone had to take care of them.

Eventually, the governnt began supporting private orphanages.

Tax breaks, funding, monster insurance discounts, and even partial legal immunity for problems that might arise while raising kids.

Plenty of people chose to start orphanages as a business to make money, and the gap in guardianship was filled—at least on paper.

“How many tis do I have to say it for you to get it through your skull! The orange one! I said don’t just rip off random parts—get the orange glass bottle!”

“Ugh... ugh...”

Back at the orphanage, Na Hye-ri was lying on the floor, clutching her stomach where the headmaster had hit her.

She was the oldest of the kids—and that ant she’d been forced into the role of team leader.

Whenever sothing went wrong, she was usually the one who got beaten in front of the others.

The reason? To make the other kids listen better.

The headmaster hadn’t bothered to hire anyone to actually care for the children. He made Na Hye-ri act as their teacher instead, figuring she had to discipline them properly to keep order.

“You little idiot shits... haah! Don’t you even realize who’s the reason you’re all still alive?! You should be grateful—grateful, damn it!”

“P-Please... don’t hit the kids... ugh...! Ugh...!”

As the headmaster raised his arm to threaten /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ the huddled kids cowering in the corner, Na Hye-ri grabbed onto his pants and clung desperately.

Enraged that she’d interrupted him, he kicked her in the gut.

Crashing to the ground, she instinctively placed both hands over her stomach to soften the blow.

The headmaster stomped on her hands, now turning blue, then glared at the children.

“Huuu, huuu... It’s because you brats don’t listen that Hye-ri’s getting beat like this. Got it?! You stupid little shits—don’t you feel bad for her?!”

He started fake-crying in an exaggerated voice as he stomped down on Hye-ri’s head again and again.

Under his massive weight, blood burst from her nose, and she curled up into a tight ball.

Thud... thud—each heavy stomp echoed through the floor like a warning bell. The kids trembled in terror, too afraid to even cry.

When the panting headmaster finally stopped and motioned with his eyes, the children recoiled, shrinking back, avoiding his gaze.

“At this rate, Hye-ri’s gonna die, huh? If she dies, who do you think I’ll pick to be the next teacher? You? Or maybe you?”

“Hi—hiiiek... hiiek...”

“Uuuhhh... uhhhhhhh...”

“You’re gonna let her die?! You better get your act together!”

“We’ll do better... please don’t kill Hye-ri unni...”

“Don’t kill her... we’re sorry...”

That should do it, the headmaster thought. He kicked Hye-ri across the floor toward the kids.

Her whole body slid along the ground, battered and bruised.

The children, crying silently, rushed to her and held her close.

“Uuuuh... hye-ri unni... unni...”

“Hye-ri noona... noona... sniff... huuuh...”

“Shut it! Quit crying and get to work! If it’s not all done by tomorrow, you killed Hye-ri!”

Hic... sniff...

Still holding the unconscious Hye-ri in their small arms, the kids left the room, trembling in fear.

They had to go underground and assemble machine parts.

The headmaster, his heavy body tired from the brief exertion, collapsed into a cushy chair.

“Haaah... stupid little shits who don’t listen...”