Chapter 6
Keeping up with Machete’s long strides was no easy task, especially considering that even among the pre-apocalypse generation, his height was well above average.
Machete was one of those born before the apocalypse—well-fed and well-rested. Liv, on the other hand, was born after the apocalypse—malnourished and sleep-deprived.
As the world descended into chaos, Machete became a towering figure among the surviving humans. In contrast, Liv was still small and underdeveloped, having only started menstruating a few years ago due to chronic malnutrition.
Therefore, Liv always had to run to keep up. The effort took a toll on her stamina, making her eat more, and before long, the canned food in her backpack wasn’t enough.
One day, she began to nibble on the animals that Machete hunted. At first, she cautiously picked at the leftover scraps like a hyena, but eventually, she grew bolder, confidently grabbing a deer leg right next to him. Machete made the remaining meat into jerky for storage, and when hunting wasn’t an option, Liv would demand some of the preserved meat.
Machete gave her a long, quiet look as she shamelessly asked for jerky, causing Liv to avert her gaze, feeling a pang of guilt.
“…What! What’s the big deal? Can’t you spare a little for a hungry person?”
As one week passed, then two, Liv quickly grew accustomed to this life on the road. In fact, it was the most well-fed, safe, and peaceful period of her entire life.
Until now, her life had been like a candle flickering in the wind. She used to tremble in fear every night, clutching her starving belly as she fell asleep. When she was with the gang, she’d huddle with the other kids, sharing lewd jokes and crude insults, but none of it was genuinely enjoyable.
Life on the streets meant reporting her pickpocketing results daily and getting beaten like a dog if she failed to meet her quota. Sometimes, that deranged gang leader would even pull out his d**k as punishment.
But being with Machete made her feel oddly secure. It was ironic, really—standing next to a man infamous as a butcher and a lunatic murderer, yet feeling protected.
Of course, the best part was that no one dared to mess with her when she was with Machete. After escaping from the gang, Liv had wandered alone, facing constant harassment, lecherous advances, and violent threats. Though she usually managed to run away, there were times she’d get slapped or punched in the stomach.
Yet now, just having Machete nearby made even the most unruly vagrants lower their heads in silence, too afraid to make a peep. They were terrified that one wrong move might catch Machete’s attention, resulting in their necks snapped in his iron grip.
“Aha! Look at that, Machete! They can’t even meet our eyes. Did you see that? Isn’t it hilarious?”
Liv pointed and laughed at the vagrants, who could only grind their teeth in frustration, unable to look her in the eye. She knew they were misunderstanding her relationship with Machete, but she had no intention of correcting them.
‘Hostage? Daughter? Lover? Slave? Let them think whatever they want!’
Regardless of what they assumed, as long as she was within Machete’s reach, no one would dare touch her.
They couldn’t figure out why Machete kept Liv around, whether she was a hostage, someone he was protecting, or just a companion for practical purposes. Machete wasn’t the type to explain, and Liv wasn’t going to volunteer the truth either. Their relationship was hard to define—like a parasite and host, or maybe a host and parasite.
They stayed together because they both needed something from each other, satisfying their needs as they arose. This applied to the three basic human desires as well.
During the day, they satisfied their hunger. At night, they fulfilled their need for sleep and s*x. The primary exchanges between them boiled down to two things: protection through overwhelming force and relief from s****l desire through physical intimacy. The latter mostly took place at night while they camped.
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