Sunlight never reaches the bottomless pit.

In this deepest stretch of earth, cursed by Mother Earth and filled with nothing but pitch darkness, only a clamorous alarm clock announced the morning. Instead of warm sunlight tickling my skin, a piercing noise tore at my ears and forced me out of bed.

A high blue sky, clouds drifting across it like little boats, warm sunshine and a refreshing breeze... Things you could take for granted on the surface.

But all the bottomless pit offered were angular buildings dreaming square dreams, hard concrete, artificial noise, and lights imitating the sun.

What comes from the heavens soothes the mind, yet everything that comes from humans gets on your nerves. Surely that is because everything humans produce is waste.

They keep the best parts inside themselves, filtering out only the unpleasant bits to excrete.

That must be why we shun the artificial even as we live among other people.

"... Damn it. Can't they make these alarms any quieter?"

I sat up, clutching my aching shoulder. My body screamed after two days of being worked to the bone by the King of Dogs, but if I left that alarm alone, it would chew through what little stamina I had left. That noise inflicted actual bodily damage.

Every alarm clock made by the Military State was a standardized wall-mounted model. The message was clear: once you woke up, get out of bed instead of lying back down. Just what you would expect from a nation that tolerated no laziness. Staggering to my feet, I climbed onto a chair and turned the alarm's cogwheel in the prescribed sequence.

One notch left, four right, then two left again.

With a dwindling trill, the alarm quieted like a dying cricket. My head was buzzing too much for me to want to go back to sleep now, though, so I swept my hair back and paced around the room.

At least the damn thing worked. Bastards.

The room was small, but it had everything I needed. To put it kindly, the furniture was arranged efficiently. Less kindly, they had crammed all sorts of things into a tiny space. With my left hand on the cabinet, I could stretch out my right and reach the sink opposite. The tap provided water for washing or drinking, but the ration wasn't enough for both.

Still, the room next door was empty. Its daily water ration should be untouched. Planning to wash my hair there, I gulped down the tap water.

The room was so small I could embrace the whole thing with my arms outstretched. Originally inhabited only by prisoners and forced laborers, Tantalus offered cramped, miserable quarters. Being a prison, it at least had solid walls rather than flimsy partitions, but that only made the stifling atmosphere feel heavier.

What I needed to remember, however, was that the mass breakout a few days ago had left very few people here.

"I'll knock down the wall and join this room to the next one."

What makes somewhere a good place to live?

The answer is simple.

Plenty of resources and very few people.

Large homes are expensive because they reduce population density.

Amazingly, Tantalus in its current state... met the conditions for an ideal place to live.

"Hahahaha!"

I would tear down those wicked concrete walls, combine five rooms, and live like a king. Five times the daily water ration, too. That should let me shower every day.

Actually, why obsess over the ration at all? I could go straight to the water tank and take a bath. A life fit for an emperor!

Laughing wickedly, I left my room. I had just slammed the lockless door shut and begun planning my blissful life of rest and recuperation when—

"Woof, woof!"

Just then, a familiar silhouette appeared at the end of the corridor.

... Why was that thing here?

Azi ran down the hall, sniffed as if checking my identity, then circled me over and over. She looked for all the world like a killer dog. Terrified, I shook my head.

"N-no. Azi. Hold back. I really can't take any more, not another..."

"Woof! I'm hungry!"

For some reason, her words filled me with relief.

"Those lunatics in the Military State... They call this a food storehouse?"

To live, you have to eat. You put food in your mouth, digest it in your stomach, then burn the resulting calories to move your body. A law of nature so obvious it hardly needs explaining.

And the Military State, which abused everything in the world, had found a way to abuse even that.

Tantalus Reeducation Facility was not a place for keeping people alive. It was a place for killing them.

People even the Military State couldn't kill. People whose deaths might provoke a frightening backlash, consume too many resources, or carry too great a political cost. Tantalus was where they swept those people away and dumped them like food scraps.

And the method chosen to kill these isolated prisoners was much like what strategists had used throughout history.

"Shit. There aren't even many cans left..."

It wasn't as though there was no food at all. Some prisoners, like the Progenitor Tyrkanzyaka, couldn't starve to death. Without any food supplied, only their sort would survive, living together in harmony. That wasn't what the Military State wanted.

"But a prison this size, with a food storehouse barely three square meters across? You bastards aren't even trying to hide your intentions."

They clearly intended to ensure that food could never be stockpiled. Having to depend on supplies dropped in from one delivery to the next would keep the prisoners desperate and anxious. It would also encourage them to hunt each other for resources.

"They probably supplied just enough to keep starvation at bay, too. Want more? Start killing each other. That sort of thing."

But hadn't I said it earlier? A good place to live has resources and few people.

The storehouse was tiny compared with this enormous prison, but there were only four of us here now, myself included. The vampire didn't even eat meals. I could make dog food for the dog. In practical terms, that left just me and the Regressor.

There was more than enough for two. And this was the bottomless pit: none of Mother Earth's industrious workers, like insects or mold, lived here, so there was no need to worry about spoilage.

"Tsk. Sorry, Azi. I'll have to cut back on your meat from now on."

"W-woof?! Arf! Arf!"

Don't bark at me. It can't be helped. Humans come before dogs.

Three cans of meat. Twenty-three cans of beans. Starch and flour... Dry fare, but enough to keep me alive somehow. Besides, they knew someone was here. Surely they would send supplies? Taking that into account, I ought to be able to eat lavishly.

"I'm meeting the vampire tonight, so I might as well have a hearty meal."

On my first day here, I'd simply grabbed enough to get by, but it looked as though I would be staying for a while. I needed to take care of my diet. Time to cook myself something for a change. I opened a can of compressed beans and emptied it into a pot.

"Azi. Do you like beans?"

"Woof! Like them! Like beans!"

"Right. Is there anything you don't like?"

Water gushed out when I turned on the tap. This makeshift kitchen had only one cooking hearth, but at least the plumbing still worked. I added water to the dried beans from the compressed can and left them to soak. They swelled almost instantly.

They had been cooked with vegetables before being canned. Simply soaking and boiling them would produce passable baked beans, but a monotonous flavor got old fast. Stopping there would be a shame.

I made dough with a rough scoop of flour and spread it out flat. Tearing off enough for a pie, I gathered the rest into a lump and covered it with an upturned tray.

"Woof! Woof! Woof!"

Meanwhile, the beans had soaked up plenty of water and swollen to their fullest. Azi kept hovering excitedly around the pot.

Their sheer volume made it hard to believe they had fit inside that tiny can. I could hardly tell whether I had soaked some beans or planted seeds and harvested an entire crop.

"Woof! Got bigger! Food got bigger!"

"Yes, yes. Good for you."

The Military State wasn't much good at other things, but military rations? Those it did spectacularly well. They had compressed several days' worth of beans into this little can. As expected, a nation that was always serious about war was in a class of its own.

Spices were luxuries. No chance of finding anything like that in prison. All I had was salt and thoroughly dried cabbage. Not ideal, but I should be grateful there was cabbage at all. The Military State was the sort of place that seriously considered classifying even vegetables as luxuries because they took up needless space and provided too few calories.

I washed the vegetables and set them down. Azi spoke up in disgust.

"Don't like grass!"

"Don't worry. You aren't getting any."

All right. Time to get it boiling. I added salt and vegetables to the pot of dried beans and set it to boil. Meanwhile, I put the dough in the oven beside the hearth. As the pot came to a good simmer, I adjusted its consistency with a starch slurry. The lightly seasoned water gradually thickened, transforming into edible food.

Now all that remained was to wait.

It was a tedious wait. While I watched the simmering pot, a pattering sound came from beside me. Azi, who had ten times less patience than I did, was spinning around chasing her tail.

Every turn kicked up dust and sent hair flying. Scowling as hard as I could, I scolded her.

"Hey. Hey. You're shedding. Do that outside."

"Hungry! Hungry!"

"Being hungry doesn't mean we can eat your hair."

She had a human form, with no fur anywhere except her tail and the hair on her head, so how was she shedding so much? She stopped at my words, but not for long. Bored, she began fidgeting again. Unable to resist the aroma, she looked ready to plunge her face into the pot at any moment.

"Stay!"

"Hungryhungryhungryhungry!"

This wasn't going to work. She was starting to look ready to eat me. I hurriedly took out a ladle and stirred the stew.

Bits of crushed beans and floating vegetables swirled around. Scraps mixed in during the canning process gathered in one spot. I scooped them all up together: one ladleful of stew packed with broken bits, floating scraps, and bean skins.

I poured it into the empty can. Then I took the bell out of my pocket.

DING-A-LING!

"Woof! Woof!"

Now fully aware of what the bell meant, Azi lowered herself, eyes gleaming. I could see saliva glistening on her lips. I set the can of dog food on the floor.

"Here. Eat."

Azi immediately dropped to the floor and happily munched away at her dog food. I watched her eat with a warm gaze.

Dogs really were wonderful animals. They could eat what humans left over.

In high spirits, I hummed as I went back to cooking.

The reduced broth tasted sweet. The starch clung to my tongue, making me feel full just holding it in my mouth.

Good. Time to eat.

I gave the dusty table a quick wipe and set the pot on it. I also took out the baked dough, which hadn't quite managed to become bread. All I had was stewed canned beans and a lump of flour, but that was plenty. If I liked it, it was a royal feast.

Why not set the mood? Sitting straight at the table, I offered a prayer to Mother Earth. Thank you for giving us our daily sustenance, and may you watch over me even in this cursed land.

Now, let's eat.

"Woof."

When I opened my eyes, some dog was sharing my table.

What the hell?

"Now, now, Azi. What are you doing sitting at the table?"

"Woof! Food!"

Judging by the forepaw she held out, she wanted a bowl of her own. Hadn't I already given her a can to use as a dog bowl? A quick glance down revealed that she'd already scarfed the whole thing. This shameless puppy had finished her portion and was now eyeing the human's table.

Hah. Tsk. They say a dog never changes its ways. She was really trying to put herself above humans. I spoke sternly.

"Get down while I'm still asking nicely. This table is for people."

"Woof."

BANG!

Her forepaw struck the iron table, launching it three centimeters straight upward. I saw cooked beans soaring through the air. My bowl and utensils were floating, too.

CLANG! CLATTER!

The falling pot and dishes produced a peculiar harmony. Like a symphony played entirely on percussion. Beyond them, a puppy smacked her lips and glared at me.

With trembling hands, I picked up the can from the floor. She had licked its bottom so clean I could have believed it had just arrived from the factory. Using it as a dog bowl, I filled a ladle with broth from the bean stew and started to pour—

"Beans."

I added a heaping helping of beans as well. Then I gave the bell a single jingle and gently slid the bean-filled dog bowl toward Azi. She immediately buried her face in the can and began lapping away.

After munching for a while, she raised her head and cried out with a radiant smile.

"Woof! Tasty! Beans tasty!"

"Hmph. Just this once. Don't expect it again."

Dogs were such damned animals. Filthy, stupid furballs that scarfed down human food, literally living by begging off humans.

Goddamn dog. Did she think she was above me?

Just you wait. King of Dogs or not, a dog was still a dog. Someday, without fail, once all this hardship was over and I finally had you trained... I'd work you like a dog.

I would personally prove what made humans the lords of all creation!

The beans tasted ordinary.