Weakest Beast Tamer Gets All SSS Dragons novel Chapter 351

The sun set over the suburbs, bathing the deteriorated houses with a deceptively warm golden light that belied the hardship within their walls.

Goldcrest border patrollers marched through the streets in their impeccable uniforms with their beasts partially manifested, displaying the new reality of the divided city.

"Day 360," Reed murmured, observing the small calendar where they had been meticulously marking each morning, days of completed ritual. "When Ren arrives, at least..."

The thousand-day mark remained distant, and the ritual had become both a comfort and a burden. They had already been forced to choose between buying food or keeping the processed materials for the ritual stored safely.

They always chose the ritual. Their son's promise, however improbable it seemed, was the only thing they could cling to in these increasingly desperate times.

Fern stirred the soup, adding the last tiny herbs growing in their window box, scraggly remnants of what had once been a vibrant kitchen garden. "Any secure job prospects for today?" she asked, keeping her voice steady despite the gnawing anxiety.

Reed shook his head, his shoulders slumping slightly. "They say they're not hiring." His voice betrayed the weariness of someone who has received too many rejections. "And the position at the bakery... well, when they saw our current address, they simply said they would 'call later'."

The silence that followed was laden with unspoken words. They didn't need to express what both knew: living on this side of the new border as Iron-ranks was a tremendous strike against them.

The Goldcrests had been effective in dividing the poor zones and spreading distrust among neighbors who were now "enemies" as part of the border vicinity.

♢♢♢♢

A few weeks earlier...

The Patinders stopped a few meters from the checkpoint, watching how the guards meticulously examined each person attempting to cross.

The scanning for contraband, the scrutiny of documentation, the occasional "random" power assessment.

The queue extended, serpentine, composed of hungry workers who only wanted to complete another day of labor on the other side. Some were rejected, sent back with increasingly arbitrary excuses.

"Work permit expired". "Insufficient documentation". "Weekly quota reached".

With a sigh of resignation, they joined the line. This had been their daily routine for the past months, since the new border had solidified. Each day, rising before dawn to cross when the queues were shorter, working all day, and then enduring this ordeal to return home.

Until one day, three months ago, they could not pass.

"Next," barked the guard when it was finally their turn, two hours later. The morning sun had climbed high.

Reed presented their case with the rehearsed humility he had learned to adopt. Showing pride or irritation only resulted in additional delays or, worse still, rejection.

The guard, a young man with tiger markings glowing beneath his skin, examined him with disdain. "Patinder? From district fifteen?"

"Yes, sir," Reed responded, keeping his eyes downcast, though decades of cooking with pride made the posture feel a bit unnatural.

"Work?"

"Cook."

The guard exchanged a glance with his companion. "District eight now belongs to enemy zone level 3. You need endorsement from a Silver-rank Goldcrest resident to work there."

Reed felt the ground vanish beneath his feet. "But... we've worked there for decades. We have a valid contract."

"Previous contracts are subject to review," the guard responded with a smile that never reached his eyes. "Security policy."

Reed wanted to protest, to explain how important that job was, how they depended on it, but the words caught in his throat. He had seen what happened to those who challenged the guards: confiscation of permits, marking in the registry, or even temporary detention.

"I understand," he finally murmured. "Thank you for your time."

That night, they had arrived home with empty hands and heavy hearts.

The following day...

They had been rejected again. And the next day. And the next.

On the seventh day, they managed to cross.