Famine 145: Barbecue Party

【8:00 pm / 0 hours until the appreciation gathering】

The open area was once again surrounded by crowds.

The Nest was closed off and crowded, so rumors spread fast. In just a few dozen minutes, nearly everyone knew what had transpired today.

As Si Zhiyan walked into the square, the crowd parted before him like a tide, all manner of expressions following him. Some looked on with reverence, some with admiration, and others with a hint of veiled fear…

Si Zhiyan smiled as he looked around, suddenly recalling how, when he first woke up in the Famine Game, his social anxiety was severe. Under the gaze of so many, he would have worn a stiff face, barely able to string together a sentence.

Now, he was much more composed.

After all this time, having endured so many stares, he’d come to understand the meaning behind those looks. Those watching you can be even more lost, more unsettled, more eager for you to act than you yourself. Worship, love, fear—all these laid on others are, in the end, a reflection of one’s own soul. The more you see, the more at ease you become.

Si Zhiyan needed only to decide how to respond to these gazes, then follow through on his answer.

In the end, people are simply people.

Nie Du, Archpriests, the Heavenly Vein Lady, the cult leader—everyone under the weight of the crowd’s gaze, were all merely human, all struggling desperately, none with three heads and six arms. Their answers, when written down, were no more perfect than anyone else’s.

It’s hard to face the world’s trials. All are confused, and even those who step out to lead are not necessarily wiser, their role thrust upon them by circumstance.

Why pin your trust on a cult leader or some powerful figure, when you might as well give it to him?

At the very least, Si Zhiyan would do everything he could, never betraying those burning souls, never letting down anyone willing to strive for a better life.

That was enough.

Behind him, Si Zhiyan’s followers wheeled in the sleep pods, but set them at a respectable distance.

Si Zhiyan clapped his hands lightly. The Holy Grail at his waist gave a delicate jiggle—“Boom!”—and from its mouth burst a budding, abundant spray of…

Pork belly?

“?!” The eyes of the crowd expanded all at once.

Layer upon layer of marbled pork belly, sliced thin at perfect angles, shot out like confetti, landing in the prearranged boxes. Waves of fresh meat ribbons soared through the air, fat and lean glistening, red and white interlaced, surprisingly beautiful.

At the front, Baldy stared in twisted disbelief: “I must be dreaming—there’s no way I’m seeing a pork belly fountain!”

And it didn’t stop there.

Pork, venison, lamb rolls, sliced beef tendon balls and shrimp paste, duck intestines, tofu skin rolls, bamboo shoots… All perfectly prepped and fresh, appeared like magic, pouring ceaselessly out from behind Si Zhiyan.

After the meats—and all packed neatly in foil boxes—came duck blood tofu, pineapple slices, mushroom cuts, and so on, along with crate after crate of cola, piling up into a small mountain before the square.

Back at the farm, the staff had already completed harvesting. Logistics manager Yun Zhong held a checklist, calling out items in an orderly fashion. Everyone moved crate after crate to the black portal and dropped them down.

Earlier today, Si Zhiyan had already assigned the food prep jobs. While he tracked the stolen sleep pods, work at the farm pressed on uninterrupted.

Recapturing the pods was cause for celebration, but even if they’d failed, there was a contingency plan for the feast.

Most barbecue ingredients were wild game bought during the day; still more came straight from [Nursery No. 5—Yin-Yang Hotpot], ready to pick and portion, requiring little effort. Whether winter hotpot or summer barbecue, these simple indulgences are always in season; most ingredients worked for both.

For the farm residents, a barbecue party was a common treat. But to the players dwelling deep in the abyss of the Nest, this was a marvel.

They’d been eating nutrient paste for seven years in this game. At the mere word “barbecue,” their legs went weak. At the sight of such high-quality meat, their gaze was glued, unable to move away.

They watched the ingredients with hungry eyes, wishing they could vacuum them up. Every time a new dish appeared, heads turned in unison; as the food tumbled down, eyes followed in a synchronized arc—a comic sight in itself.

After the food came the big boxes of condiments and a string of barbecue grills.

Hands rubbing together, mouths watering, the crowd was on the verge of drooling. But Si Zhiyan was in no hurry. He went down the grill row, lifting the grates, placing a chunk of deshelled magma-fire stone inside each, and with a gentle sweep of cloud, closed each grill.

Charcoal would work as a light source and grill fuel, but it needed refilling every two hours by hand—a hassle. Si Zhiyan simply used these special stones, carefully controlling their size to give a solid twelve hours of steady heat.

Then, at last, under the glint of a thousand greedy eyes, he lifted the last grate, flashed a smile, and announced:

“Each person: one meat, two veg. Please use today’s password for your portion—once gone, that’s it, first come first served.”

Everyone was already prepared for the sleep pod rush, but those further back in the crowd looked vexed, while those in front readied themselves to sprint.

Thousands at once, hands tensed, an undercurrent of anticipation—today’s scrum for food would be legendary.

Si Zhiyan paused, then added:

“One more thing. Friends who helped us today, please come forward. No time or quantity limit—eat as much as you want, all ingredients are free to self-serve, just like a buffet.”

“Begin.”

Boom!!

The entire crowd exploded in raucous excitement!!

Standing behind Si Zhiyan, Ye Xianqing nearly had a heart attack.

When she first arrived, hundreds, thousands of bloodfolk had been intimidating enough. But now—hordes of bloodfolk with eyes popping out, faces wild, surged forward like an unstoppable zombie tide.

Do they have any idea how terrifying they look?!

They were shouting things like “I want my barbecue,” “Save some lettuce for me,” “Touch my garlic and you’re dead”—even more intimidating!

In just a few seconds, a winding, tumultuous line coiled across the square.

Those in front, eyes sparkling, made careful selections, while those in back craned their necks with longing. For those at the very end—facing hours of queuing, uncertain if they’d get anything—the only option was to watch, unwilling to leave.

Many eyes settled on the special group at the side:

Yan Cheng’s brothers; Havana, Guan Wang, and the players who’d helped search the Nest; Xia Ke, who first tried the sleep pod; and Baldy, who once stepped on Hang Feng’s head—all present.

They formed a circle, each handed a plate, tongs, and a box of seasonings.

While others lined up for samples, they could pick and grill whatever they wished.

Even Xia Ke and the others could hardly believe such good treatment; dazed, they stood before the mountain of pork belly, hearts thundering, eyes brimming, almost on the verge of tears.

“Ahh, is this all right…” the shy girl murmured, “it was just what anyone should’ve done…”

“You earned this,” Si Zhiyan smiled. “Please, help yourselves. You get unlimited portions—if the ingredients run out, I can resupply.”

Baldy had no such reservations and burst out laughing: “Then I won’t stand on ceremony! Thanks, boss! Let’s chow down!”

He led the way, snatching up meat—barbecue! Only a fool wouldn’t eat!

In the blink of an eye, all eyes were drawn to Baldy, forgetting about the quietly delighted girl. Instantly, countless envious and jealous eyes bore into his back like pins. Baldy, for his part, reveled in the attention, humming aloud as he ate.

Bloodfolk in line rolled their eyes.

Barbecue, eat all you want, no queue! How is this guy so lucky?

Ah, there’s no cure.
Should’ve been in the right place at the right time!

Many made silent vows.

If only we’d built a good relationship with the boss earlier!
Maybe they’ll run into new trouble down the line… we’ll check in tomorrow!

Si Zhiyan, of course, read their thoughts, but let the moment play to its peak before sitting down and smiling quietly, saying no more.

Yan Cheng’s brothers clustered around the table, splitting between two grills. Yan Cheng naturally took over as chef. The others, used to his care, grilled snacks for themselves while knocking their bowls, waiting for his cooking.

Yan Cheng said nothing, only kept picking through the meats.

Sizzle—

Soon the wire grills crackled. The pork was sliced thin, curling and crisping as soon as it touched the heat. Edges browned, glaze brushed on, dry spice sprinkled, and the aroma of barbecue lifted in waves. Fat dripped onto the magma-stone, bursting in tiny sparks.

Guan Wang, hyped, tugged on Havana’s sleeve, shouting, “It’s ready! It’s ready! Captain, give me some! Pork belly forever! And spicy!”

“Duck intestines! Look, they have duck intestines!! And they’re prepped, too, wow! Grab the tongs! Captain!!”

“Quiet,” Yan Cheng grunted, adding more dry seasoning.

Barbecue might not demand masterful technique, but Yan Cheng clearly had experience.

He wrapped shrimp paste in tofu skin, rolled it up, and pressed it across the grate with a spatula—rich shrimp aroma billowed up.

Beef rolls were glazed with teriyaki, perfectly caramelized, a whiff of the special magma-stone smokiness.

Duck blood cubes, simply set in foil trays and drenched in spicy sauce, glistened like dark red gems, trembling in the bubbling broth, so tender they could slip down with a single, blissful bite.

Venison was thick-cut in slices, the clean muscle a little springy. Yan Cheng, mindful of cooking time and gamey flavors, expertly scored the meat with a diamond pattern, rubbed it thoroughly with garlic, and flipped it over the fire—sizzle—the juices seeped out over the flames in slender streams.

Guan Wang went for barbecue pork belly first. He scooped up a leaf of crispy lettuce, set the fresh grilled meat inside, added garlic slices, barbecue sauce, and cumin chili powder, wrapped it up, and chomped down!

He filled his cheeks with smoky, melt-in-the-mouth pork, sweet and savory sauce, hot pepper, firm yet tender fibers, perfect sear—lean never dry, fat edge a little crisp. The flavor filled his mouth to bursting—almost more joy than mortal taste buds could take. Before he could get sick of it, the garlic sliced through the richness, its bite refreshing and primal. Meat, garlic, cool lettuce; oil running down his chin, tongue nearly going numb from happiness.

Mouth full, Guan Wang grinned ear to ear and peered at the brothers who took venison: “Never had venison! How is it?”

Havana’s lap held HACK, and nervously he inched away, fearful the dog might get jostled. HACK, meanwhile, utterly unaware, strained forward with his nose, utterly famished.

Only Ye Xianqing, having savored her food and wiped her mouth, replied, “It’s similar to beef, but less fibrous—tender and juicy, goes great with garlic. I actually prefer it… There’s no gamey taste at all. Maybe it was handled by the farm’s chef? Thank you.”

“Wow!” Guan Wang gasped with delight. HACK, whether he understood or not, barked excitedly along.

The two of them really were a pair. Si Zhiyan couldn’t help but laugh.

Si Zhiyan asked, “Can he eat solid food yet?”

Ye Xianqing smiled, “He can, and should—getting more nutrition will help.”

“In the Famine Game, everyone buffs recovery rates. Healing is faster than normal. If wounds took months to heal, you’d starve before recovery. The tradeoff is, faster healing needs more nutrition—it’s a barrier in itself.”

“No problem.” Si Zhiyan let out a silent laugh.

He used his tongs to select a clean grill, cooked a batch of unseasoned meat, and set it on a plate for HACK.

Ye Xianqing shrank the isolation pod’s opening, letting HACK poke his nose out. The dog went wild, gobbling it down, savoring every bite, tail spinning furiously.

Havana, delighted, watched HACK eat and said apologetically, “It’s almost like there’s not enough for people, but HACK…”

Si Zhiyan said, “Don’t worry, HACK’s the hero today. Let him eat all he wants.”

“I’ll take care of his food from now on—no stinginess, give the pup whatever he wants. Ye Xianqing, if you have time, could you write up a nutrition plan for him? Whatever he needs, I’ll provide.”

Havana was overjoyed. “Thank you!”

Those in the endless queue eyed this group hungrily.

How good it must taste… how good…

At that moment, countless stomachs were possessed by one thought:

If everything at the appreciation gathering was free—no wonder the scramble, no one wanted to miss out.

So… if we follow the boss, move back to his inn…
Does that mean, just paying a small fee, we can eat like this every day?

……
…

The queue snaked on through the night, envy in every eye, stretching well past midnight.

Meanwhile, the main table buzzed with laughter.

Squeezed in among them, Si Zhiyan was toastmaster, offered countless cups of cola. At first he smiled and demurred, but soon just accepted—after all, his phantom body had no limits, and no matter how much soda he drank, it didn’t affect his appetite. The barbecue’s spicy and savory flavors were all savored, yet he never gained a pound.

Truly… a feasting ideal.

The others gaped: this pale, quiet, slim man just tilted back four or five bottles of cola without missing a beat, still calmly chewing his meat.

“Boss, you have a bottomless belly!” Guan Wang declared in awe.

Si Zhiyan: “……”

Did being “bottomless” at drinking cola really count for something?

Looking around, as everyone’s third round of cola went by, they were reminiscing about the old days.

After so much time apart, there was plenty to catch up on—some had arms round each other, some had tears in their eyes; Havana was crying outright, comforted by Yan Cheng with a heavy pat on the back.

“…I was so harsh that time, Captain. I always regretted it—if you hadn’t come back…”

Yan Cheng: “Enough, drink up!”

He handed over a soft drink.

Si Zhiyan: “…………”

First time realizing how sharp the cola shortage problem was.
He’d need to ask about Wang Meng’s sorghum wine brewing progress afterwards.

……
…

While this corner glowed with warmth and camaraderie, to the north, the cult sector was silent.

Perhaps out of guilt or shame, none of the cult bloodfolk showed at the barbecue party.

Si Zhiyan, his thirst for cola sated, had someone deliver a charcoal stove and a packet of food that night.

The supplies were left quietly; nobody was seen picking them up. But the next morning, Si Zhiyan found the stove and grill, clean, at his door, with a C-rank cursed item laid on the rack in silent gratitude.

No one knew what would become of the cult. Maybe they drifted back into the crowd, just as they had once emerged from it.

The following days passed peacefully.

Si Zhiyan went about his business, offering all sorts of enticing experiences—just enough to let people have a taste, never quite enough to fill them up.

Ten days flashed by in the blink of an eye.
At last, it was time to leave.

Without the cult’s interference, the appreciation gathering’s effect must have exceeded expectations.

Si Zhiyan lifted the curtain to find a crowd outside.

In the front stood Yan Cheng and Ye Xianqing with their twenty-three old comrades, Havana with the newly ambulant HACK, Guan Wang with his skateboard and bag. Every single one present, eyes full of longing, fixed on Si Zhiyan.

Yan Cheng spoke solemnly: “All my brothers and I are present. Sir, words can’t express our gratitude—from now on, whatever you need, just say the word.”

Behind them were Xia Ke, Baldy, and all those who had helped before. They greeted Si Zhiyan with a smile and a nod.

And behind them…

A sea of people.

Countless bloodfolk with glinting eyes, filling every street and alley of the Nest—carrying bags and bundles, all waiting for Si Zhiyan’s direction.

“Sir, we want to go back with you!”
“How much is a night at the inn? Is there food?”
“I heard Yan Cheng ate pork knuckle—is that true?”
“If I can just have another chocolate éclair, I’ll be content…”

The chatter erupted, filled with every question imaginable.
No fewer than one or two thousand people.

More came forward: “Living in the Nest sucks, but can we come on vacation to your place too? Boss, will you take walk-ins?”

Si Zhiyan: “……”

Si Zhiyan: “…………”

Wait a minute, this might be a little too successful!

The mission only called for 500! The inn was never prepped for this many rooms!

There’s nowhere left to sleep!