Loga Star, a celestial body within the fourth administrative sector of the vast Galaxy Federation, stood as its most isolated outpost. This planet, which perhaps should have borne only a designation, was instead christened in honor of Major General Loga, the highest-ranking officer who tragically fell defending the Federation through numerous arduous engagements. Despite this singular distinction, the planet largely faded from collective memory.
Thick swaths of orbital debris encircled the planet, leaving only a solitary, securebyway for official transit. Resources, falling below the Federation's established average, were scarce, with deliveries arriving only bi-monthly. The majority of the populace endured a constant struggle against the specter of hunger and destitution.
In stark contrast, the central hub of District 22 pulsed with vibrant activity and incessant light. As twilight descended beneath a sky of muted gray, the area presented an unusual tableau, where its lively atmosphere and profound silence achieved a peculiar harmony.
Approximately thirty kilometers from the city's core lay a disused factory, a landscape choked with disarrayed industrial detritus. Among the refuse were fractured Mecha components, beyond any hope of repair. On this planet, starved of resources, the governing bodies possessed neither the inclination nor the bandwidth to manage such waste. The provision of free labor from the impoverished sectors conveniently resolved these bothersome issues, sparing the administration considerable expense—a win-win scenario, was it not?
An unbroken expanse of wilderness stretched outwards, punctuated only by the occasional sharp cry that pierced the pervasive stillness. Within a neglected factory corner, intermittent sparks danced, and a modest campfire flickered, casting the elongated silhouette of a solitary figure against the dilapidated walls.
Mu Fan, a seventeen-year-old, had no recollection of his biological parents. His adoptive parents recounted finding him abandoned near a refuse container during one of their scavenging expeditions. It was just before dawn, the nascent starlight casting a gentle, even glow upon the infant's face. As his foster father lifted him, two small tokens detached: a wooden piece, imbued with a deep yellow hue, etched with the character "Mu," and a dark metallic tag bearing the inscription "Fan."
Without undue contemplation on the word order, his foster father, influenced by the natural cadence of the names, christened him Mu Fan. Possessing a rudimentary education, he attributed this chosen name to the boy. Throughout his formative years, Mu Fan never questioned his origins. By the time he reached an age where such inquiries might arise, his foster parents had tragically perished, caught in the crossfire of a stray bullet during a Star Thief raid while scavenging. This left Mu Fan without any opportunity to seek answers about his past. He was merely ten years old at the time.
Mu Fan, though quiet by nature, possessed a profound understanding of life's harsh realities. Upon hearing the devastating news, he shed no tears. Instead, he returned to their dilapidated hovel, retrieved a pair of worn gloves they had scavenged, and began assisting both acquaintances and strangers alike with manual labor. He undertook tasks such as moving heavy objects, washing dishes in eateries on the city's periphery, delivering packages for urban residents, and subsequently returning to salvage usable materials from factory waste... Now, utterly alone, he faced the imperative of survival.
Seven years had elapsed since the loss of his parents. Mu Fan’s gaze drifted towards the campfire before he resumed the meticulous sharpening of a small knife, its surface gleaming with a cold light. He paid little heed to his outward appearance; his hair, a tangle of black strands, framed a face that was not particularly robust but carried a tall frame. When he raised his eyelids, revealing brown eyes, a perceptive observer might detect a fleeting crimson glint deep within their irises, reminiscent of nascent roses or possibly clotted blood.
By this point, the climate in District 22 had taken a decidedly frigid turn. Mu Fan was clad in a jacket pieced together from canvas remnants and trousers stained with oil. He utilized his evening respite to hone his chosen tool, a dagger meticulously crafted from industrial alloy. He was at an age where his adolescent body demanded considerable sustenance. His weekly earnings were primarily allocated to the purchase of bundled books acquired from the old book market. The remainder was sufficient only to stave off starvation, supplemented by the cheapest synthetic rations, which typically left a person feeling quite full after consuming two portions. Without venturing out in search of sustenance, he remained trapped within this unvarying cycle.
One day, as he journeyed homeward, a buzzard caught his eye as it took flight nearby. Driven by curiosity, he observed a dark shape descend from the sky—it was half of a Plant Rat. Illuminated by the flickering flames, Mu Fan experienced the taste of meat for the very first time.
One of Mu Fan's fundamental survival tenets involved hunting at least twice each week. Regardless of the prey's size, whether deceased or alive, any successful acquisition represented a significant victory. He acutely required this energy, as his physical system clearly craved protein.
"Hush now," a final ember flared, and Mu Fan carefully secreted away the knife, cradling its sharpened edge with a light grip in his left hand. He examined the blade in the firelight, a satisfied glint in his narrowed eyes. Tonight—he would feast on meat!
...
The nights on Loga Star were as unforgivingly cold as tempered steel, penetrating to the very core.
Mufan moved through the desolate terrain, his torso bare. The myriad scars etched across his body served as silent testaments to past ordeals, like accolades from battles fought. Though lean, his physique showcased naturally pleasing musculature, hinting at a latent, formidable power.
Mu Fan remained unaffected by the biting cold that his fellow inhabitants complained of so frequently. Instead, he found an invigorating clarity and exhilaration in the chill, a sensation he relished. He possessed no understanding as to why he perpetually felt hungry, yet discovered that his physical stamina seemed to far exceed that of others by severalfold... or perhaps even more. He lacked any framework for comprehension and harbored no desire to seek one.
Beneath the cloak of night, slipping past any observers, Mu Fan arrived at the fringe of a dense forest, a mere fifteen kilometers from the factory. Within the tranquil darkness, Mu Fan seemed one with the very earth, his steamy exhalations the sole testament to his presence.
A river coursed nearby. While its waters offered a biting chill to most during the night, Mu Fan relished its coolness, perfect for cleansing away the day's blood and sweat. Occasionally, he'd snag a fish, consuming it raw – any form of meat was acceptable!
Tonight's objective was to bring down a sizable animal. An intense hunger had begun to consume him, a clear sign that the two Plant Rats from before were no longer sufficient. He craved more substantial sustenance.
This particular woodland lay far removed from the city's reach. On a remote and impoverished world like Loga Star, the authorities lacked the comprehensive resources for extensive satellite surveillance. The sparse human settlements constantly battled against the untamed wilderness, allowing this forest to retain its pristine, original state. Here, more formidable beasts roamed, offering a far richer bounty.
With a swift motion, Mu Fan came to a halt, his sharp eyes alight. Positioned at the forest's edge, he detected the distinct scent of a Mutant Beast in close proximity. There it was! The aura of a Mutant Beast, saturated with an agitated energy, assailed him, and Mu Fan's stomach rumbled once more. He bit down on his lip, a crimson luminescence flashing within his eyes!
Meat was essential!
Desire serves as humanity's most fundamental impulse. When a rapidly developing physique confronts the gnawing pangs of hunger, it ignites an extraordinary reservoir of strength. This was especially true for Mu Fan, who had already experienced the taste of meat!
He closed his eyes, then reopened them, the subtle scarlet glow within Mu Fan's gaze receding. Yet, his vision had become acutely enhanced, enabling him to perceive the forest, its myriad insects, and the flitting birds with startling clarity against the previously featureless night. He couldn't pinpoint when he first noticed his sharp night vision, but after utilizing it to locate several Plant Rats, he began to deliberately hone this seemingly supernatural endowment.
The night sky above was obscured, with thick clouds effortlessly blocking the faint, reflected light from the stars.
