Chapter 5: Analyzing Ingredients and Creating Recipes

"Crack! Crack! Crack!..."
The black rod descended again and again, mercilessly lashing the trainees’ tender backs, producing sharp, chilling sounds that made even the listeners shiver.

Yet not a single trainee dared to scream aloud. They clenched their teeth tightly, suppressing their agony to faint, pained groans.

Those burly men were clearly well-trained. Though their rods tore open the trainees’ skin, under the chip’s scan, the children’s muscles, bones, and organs remained virtually unharmed.

The injuries they suffered were, at most, flesh wounds that would heal with rest. But the pain itself was undiminished.

"Obedience—this is the first lesson I am teaching you. I hope you will carve these two words into your hearts! Later, instructors will explain the camp regulations. I trust you will remember them well."

After all the trainees had received their punishment, Colin strode forward and stood at the very front of the hall. Gazing at the children before him, their teeth clenched and faces twisted in pain, he spoke solemnly and earnestly.

With that, Colin led the group of men wielding wooden rods out of the hall, leaving only two behind to explain the camp rules to the children.

With the lesson still fresh, the trainees listened to the precise and rigorous regulations with utmost seriousness, wishing they could etch each word into their minds.

For most, the burning pain across their backs had not yet faded. Even for those like Zhang Ran, who had escaped punishment, they listened intently, for the morning’s bloody scene of seven companions being executed was still vivid in everyone’s memory.

Once the rules were explained, the children were brought to a large room filled with rows of neatly arranged bunk beds—this was to be their communal dormitory.

Each child was assigned a bed in order; the boys were given beds on the left, the girls on the right, with a thick black curtain hung by an instructor to divide them.

By the time all was done, it was already midday. Led by the instructors, Zhang Ran and the others were taken to the cafeteria.

Compared to the meager fare of the wasteland, the camp’s lunch was the height of luxury: steaming hot rice, a variety of meats and vegetables, and no restrictions on quantity—one could eat as much as one wished.

From the memories Zhang Ran had inherited, the staple food among wasteland dwellers was a hard, black bread—so tough it could double as a club, filled with wood shavings and who knows what else. Even when soaked in water, it was barely edible.

For these children from the wilds, anything beyond that was a distant dream. In seven years, the body’s previous owner had scavenged only a few wilted leaves from garbage heaps, let alone tasted meat.

So when these children, long tormented by hunger, saw the bounty before them, they rushed forward en masse, each grabbing a portion and ravenously stuffing themselves, desperate to fill their bellies to the brim.

"They’re still too young," Zhang Ran sighed with a trace of pity as he watched the children devour their meals. Calmly, he selected a small portion of each dish for his own tray.

Overeating at one meal was no good—especially for these children, who rarely had any fat or oil. Their bodies lacked the digestive enzymes necessary for such a feast. To gorge themselves now would only bring trouble: at best, severe diarrhea; at worst, death.

"Chip, analyze the foods I’m eating, build a database based on the information collected, and devise the optimal dietary plan for me," Zhang Ran instructed silently, sampling about twenty grams of each dish before returning to his seat.

In this unfamiliar, post-apocalyptic world, there were bound to be many unknown species and materials—precious resources in their own right. Thus, Zhang Ran ordered the chip to analyze them. The best way to study these ingredients would be experimentation, but he lacked the means. Fortunately, since they were all edible, he could simply eat them and have the chip analyze their composition up close.

"Beep! Unnamed Meat Type 1 contains beneficial elements. Consuming about one hundred kilograms can increase strength by 0.1," the chip reported after he tasted a piece of red meat.

"Beep! Unnamed Vegetable Type 1—its juices contain components beneficial for physical recovery. Consumption promotes wound healing; external application is recommended," the chip announced again as he sampled a yellow, flower-shaped vegetable.

...

About twenty minutes later, even though Zhang Ran tasted quickly, his lunch was finished and the chip had transmitted a completed dietary plan to his mind.

It was a balanced menu, designed to promote healing and growth, matched perfectly to his physical condition. Moreover, it would adjust dynamically as his needs changed.

This was one of the advantages of having a chip. For a body still in its growth phase, food was the most vital resource. With the chip’s guidance, Zhang Ran could enjoy the most scientific nutrition, giving him an edge over the other trainees.

Lunch lasted a full half hour—a rare luxury. But even after the meal, no one dared to chat, since silence was another camp rule.

"Bee-bee-beep!"

A sharp assembly whistle shattered the cafeteria’s calm. At the sound, the children sprang up and surged toward the door—they had five minutes to reach the training grounds, or the instructors’ sticks would await them.

They all broke into a run. Suddenly, a thin boy with a stomach distended from overeating fell to the floor, writhing in agony, howling, rolling over and over, until he lay still—eyes wide open, drool trickling from his mouth.

He was dead—killed by his own overeating.