The strongest life skills player

Chapter 8 Food in the Wasteland

The atmosphere in the camp relaxed considerably, and people began to talk in hushed tones, filled with the relief of surviving a disaster and the calculation of their spoils.

Without Zhou Yan's instructions, the refugees spontaneously sprang into action and began cleaning up the battlefield.

Old Lei and Amu, along with a few others, swiftly dragged the carcasses of more than a dozen thorn rats from the ground to an open area at the edge of the camp.

Their actions were somewhat impatient.

The machete swung up and down, precisely peeling off the hard, needle-like skin.

"Quickly, clean the hides and hang them up to dry! Don't let the meat get too dirty!"

Zhou Yan's voice carried a rare hint of relaxation as he directed the group.

Looking at the pile of rat meat chunks, the old scar on his face seemed to soften a bit. He said to Chen Huai, who was standing quietly observing from the side:

"I was worried that the camp wouldn't have anything good to offer you, but thanks to you tonight, the camp can finally have a decent meal! This porcupine meat is a rare delicacy!"

Chen Huai's gaze swept over the corpses that had been skinned and had their dark red muscles exposed, then swept over the barely suppressed excitement in the eyes of the refugees and the way they swallowed their saliva as they stared at the chunks of meat. He thought to himself, "Just as I thought."

Spiny rat skin is tough and durable, making it a valuable material for armor linings, warm clothing, and even repairs.

Moreover, because thorn rats are fast, intelligent, and difficult to catch, a good thorn rat pelt can be exchanged for a lot of hard currency or food when merchants pass by. Such animal pelts are an important source of extra income for the camp.

If you don't mind the trouble of selling it in Falling Star City or a small town, you can get an even higher price.

And that thin layer of pale yellow fat, tightly attached to the skin, is seen as gold by the displaced people.

Fat represents precious energy and is key to surviving the long winter. It is usually carefully scraped off and stored separately, and people are reluctant to eat it unless absolutely necessary, or they save it up to exchange for whole grains that can be stored for longer.

In contrast, the dry, strongly flavored lean meat on the porcupine is the least valuable part—although for refugees who rely on moldy roots and inferior nutritional pastes to fill their stomachs year-round, it is a rare delicacy that can make them temporarily forget their suffering.

……

As darkness fell completely, the largest campfire in the camp was filled with more hardwood to burn, and several iron pots were placed above it, bubbling with murky soup.

The rat meat, cut into large pieces, was simply washed and then put into a pot.

Soon, an earthy smell spread with the rising steam.

The refugees gathered around the fire, the firelight illuminating their withered, weary, yet hopeful faces.

The children's eyes were glued to the bubbling pot, their little noses twitching incessantly.

The smell was earthy and even a little nauseating to him, but it seemed quite fragrant to the children.

Just then, a woman in charge of cooking carefully took out a small package wrapped in oil paper from her bosom.

She unwrapped the layers of packaging gently, as if afraid of spilling even a little bit.

Inside was a small handful of grayish-white crystals—coarse salt.

She held her breath, carefully picked up a tiny bit, and sprinkled it evenly into the boiling pot. Then she quickly wrapped the remaining salt again and hid it close to her body.

"Dinner's ready! Dinner's ready!"

Someone shouted, and the suppressed excitement was instantly ignited.

People, carrying simple broken bowls or even emptied metal cans, eagerly flocked to the pot.

The woman in charge of serving the food also had a rare smile on her face. She carefully scooped up the food with a long-handled wooden spoon, trying her best to make sure that each serving contained a real piece of meat.

The children crowded at the front, their little heads craning forward, their eyes fixed on the dark red chunks of meat churning in the spoons, their throats bobbing involuntarily.

As a distinguished guest, Chen Huai naturally received the highest level of treatment.

Old Lei squeezed through the crowd and carefully carried a relatively intact, yet still rough, ceramic bowl to Chen Huai.

The bowl was piled high with the largest piece of spiky rat leg meat, topped with a spoonful of murky broth.

"Sir, please go first! Thanks to you, everyone is able to enjoy this meat today!"

Old Lei's voice was loud and clear, filled with heartfelt gratitude, as he shoved the bowl into Chen Huai's hands without a word.

Chen Huai subconsciously looked down.

The dark red chunks of meat had a rough texture and suspicious tendons along the edges. Soaked in the murky broth, they created a double impact on both the eyes and the nose.

My stomach suddenly started churning uncontrollably.

He prided himself on his remarkable adaptability; from the moment he arrived in this wasteland, he quickly adapted to his new identity. And it wasn't just him being dramatic…

The flavors on this were way too much for him, as he usually had a work lunch of two meat dishes and two vegetable dishes...

Upon seeing this, Zhou Yan's heart stirred, and his previous doubts seemed to become clearer.

This subconscious rejection is not the reaction of someone struggling to survive in the wasteland, much less like someone who has struggled in the underworld of Fallen Star City.

Only those upper-class people who truly live within high walls and have never truly experienced the agony of hunger gnawing at their very marrow would express such pure physiological disgust for this "wild game."

This person's background is probably cleaner and more distant than he had imagined.

"My lord, please forgive my poor appearance."

He pointed to the meat in Chen Huai's bowl, then glanced around at the refugees who were wolfing it down:

"We're from a poor place, and we really can't offer you anything decent. This rat meat looks rough and has a slightly sour, earthy smell, but it'll get much better if you cook it longer. If you don't like it, try this instead."

As he spoke, Zhou Yan handed Chen Huai something that looked like a sweet potato, guessing that Chen Huai probably had never eaten such humble food before, and then explained:

"This is a sweet potato, which we grow ourselves. It's drought-resistant, has few pests, and can be stored in the soil for a long time. It's very filling."

At the same time, he gestured to the woman next to him who was in charge of grilling the meat.

The woman understood and immediately picked out two relatively crispy pieces of dried meat from the pile of smoked meat strips, carefully placed them on a large leaf, and replaced the bowl of strongly flavored meat soup in Chen Huai's hand.

"The roasted meat jerky has less of its 'heatiness' and less of a gamey smell. Why don't you give it a try?"

Chen Huai looked at the food that had been replaced in his hand, swallowed hard, and realized he was indeed hungry.

In the afternoon, they first faced a life-or-death crisis with the cat demon, keeping their nerves on edge. Then they went through a battle to drive away the thorn rats and the energy depletion brought about by the breakthrough in their gene level. The fatigue and hunger that had accumulated in their bodies surged up like a tidal wave at this moment.

Becoming a superhuman with a stronger physique seems to also mean faster energy metabolism and a stronger need to eat.

The intense emptiness in my stomach ultimately overwhelmed my discerning taste buds.

Chen Huai no longer hesitated.

He picked up the crispy roasted rat meat jerky and tentatively took a bite.

The taste was unexpected.

A flavor that blends smokiness, a hint of saltiness, and the raw aroma of meat spreads through the mouth, tasting somewhat like roasted kangaroo jerky.

Although a slight fishy smell could still be detected, it was no longer unbearable under the mask of intense hunger and the aroma of caramelization.

Next, he peeled off the sandy outer skin of the gray sweet potato, revealing grayish-white flesh inside.

He took a bite; the texture was soft and creamy, with a hint of sweet potato fragrance, but it wasn't very sweet and tasted rather bland, like a potato.

This simple and unpretentious flavor gave him a strange sense of peace.

He ate in silence and quickly.

The energy from the food flowed into his tired body like a gentle stream.

The refugees around were still happily sharing the hard-won meat soup, and the children were licking the rim of their bowls with satisfaction.

Chen Huai's first meal in the wasteland was simple yet cozy at this wild grass camp.