Famine 204: Smoked Pork, Braised Pork

This world was a food processing industrial zone beside a wharf.

In these lower-level creepypasta worlds, the protection of the world wasn’t complete. Everybody fended for themselves, scattered and disordered, without a leader like Aunt Zhou.

The giant-axe butcher killer, muscles bulging and bare, still wearing his apron, stood at the entrance, now to give players directions.
The only difference now was, the human heads at his waist had been replaced with a thermos, filled with chrysanthemum tea specially made for him.

Throughout the slaughterhouse and the world at large, there were countless food factories, large and small. Each factory produced a type of processed food.

All of them were freshly made, and produced in extraordinary quantities.

There were swathes of freshly smoked bacon, all choice pork belly or back meat, specially marinated and smoked, grilled to a crisp, delicious, salty aroma.
Eating it granted a 3% speed boost.

There were select cuts of sliced salami, carefully cured, fermented, and air-dried, bursting with garlic and spices, dense and fragrant.
Just one slice granted another Buff: within a one-meter radius, all C-level and below insect-type anomalies would disperse.

Yes… It made sense for a garlicky cured meat like salami to repel insects.

Besides these, there were hot dogs, smoked meat, ham sausages, starchy sausages…

As he looked everything over, Si Zhiyan was struck with clarity.

This was a world of meat!
And every kind had a different buff!

While the buffs from C-level foods weren’t remarkable individually, the sheer quantity ensured the occasional surprise—a buff of unusual strength or usefulness.

Such as bacon, or… smoked meat.

Eating a piece of smoked meat provided a [5% Defense Boost] buff.

That figure might not seem impressive, but the problem was, a defense buff was extremely, extremely rare.

Up till now, the only stable source of a defense buff at the farm was the [Living Spring] from Tenman Paradise, set by Si Zhiyan right at the main gate for people to take turns soaking in.

Now that life was good again, most players at the farm were quite cautious about survival. As soon as any survival-improving buff appeared, it would be snapped up in a flash.

Many players had made a habit, before each expedition, of stacking as many evasion and defense buffs as possible. Some would even buy whole bunches of witch grapes just to sample them one by one, hoping to get a sliver of defense.

If other foods were a luxury for the tastebuds…
Then a food with a stable, stackable 5% defense buff, like smoked meat, was a must-have surprise!

With everyone eagerly awaiting them, Si Zhiyan scrawled a note to Li Xuan—instructing large-scale promotion!

It was posted on the central bulletin board right away; then he had them experiment with different styles in every kitchen—smoked meat tasted great no matter how it was made.

Soon, the cafeteria rolled out dishes like flatbread rolls with scallion and smoked meat, smoked meat and green pea rice, spicy stir-fried smoked meat, and more…

Of them all, Si Zhiyan’s favorite was a braised pork with smoked meat.

The smokiness was so rich already that no additional seasoning was needed; steamed as-is, it best preserved the original flavor. The farm’s smoked pork was perfectly marbled, and just a light steaming made it glisten with oil and aroma. The smoked savor blended with the natural flavor of pork—lean, it tasted rich, the fatty bits simply melted in your mouth.

Stuffing your mouth with a hearty bite was instant bliss, perfect over rice. A mouthful of juicy smoked meat and a spoonful of plain white rice—pure happiness.

Beneath the smoked pork was a fluffy heap of cabbage. The cabbage wasn’t seasoned—yet the essence of the smoked meat had thoroughly infused it, making even greens taste anything but bland. Soaked in savory fragrance but still with a note of cabbage’s natural sweetness, it cleansed the palate refreshingly.

For vegetable lovers, it was even better than the meat.

Beneath the cabbage, there was another layer: glass noodles.

The heap of glass noodles was the true treasure—just a little was needed, more would overpower the taste. Soaked in minced garlic, bathed in the cabbage’s juices, and infused with the smoked meat’s aroma, you could scoop up a serving, drizzle it with soy sauce and vinegar, top with a touch of fresh garlic, and mix—

No amount of meat could compare!

There was always plenty of smoked meat. Bian Xu, a born carnivore, was delighted from the very first bite, cheeks bulging and eyes sparkling with satisfaction.
As for the defense buff? He hardly even noticed it.

Si Zhiyan, less fond of greasiness, was happy to take just a sliver of meat, a good chopstick of cabbage, and a small bundle of flavor-infused glass noodles, sipping wine contentedly.
It worked out just right: Bian Xu loved the meat, Si Zhiyan could enjoy the vegetables and noodles.

………
……

And there was another unexpected bonus with all these processed meat products.

Namely—

With the farm’s entrances and exits now fixed, players had to travel much farther afield.
When bringing food for long journeys or battle, they generally chose light, dry, and spill-proof options like rice balls.
At such times, a slab of smoked meat or a can of luncheon meat was an excellent choice.

At the same time, some changes were happening in Fantasy Town.

The hard work poured by the High Priest into his brushwork turned out to be far more than mere buildings.

Postboxes that were once mere decoration now had [Automatic Delivery] functions. Invisible postmen on broomsticks crisscrossed the city, dropping off letters at every destination.

Li Cui’e, delighted by this discovery, immediately improved public services, publishing addresses for every farm department—security, sanitation, food services, and more.

So, the day after people learned that smoked pork provided a defense buff, Utility Director Yun Zhong opened his office door—

And with a boom, a tidal wave of white paper exploded through the doorway, instantly burying Yun Zhong and flooding the entire hall.

Yun Zhong lay buried in a sea of letters, dumbfounded: “?!!!”

Si Zhiyan happened to be there for a meeting, reached out to catch a stray sheet, and glanced at it:

[From South Gate Postmaster Wang: Application for a reservation of 700 portions of smoked meat. Stable demand, request priority. Price negotiable.]

He’d bought a lot, but that was normal for Boss Wang—he was a supplier.

Si Zhiyan raised an eyebrow, set it aside, and picked up another:

[From individual player Ida: Would like to buy 2,000 portions of smoked meat, 1,000 cans of luncheon meat, 500 starchy sausages. Urgently needed, please reply.]

Si Zhiyan: “…”

Wasn’t that a bit much?

Peeking down, Si Zhiyan was astonished.

The whole place was packed with high-volume smoked meat orders!

Li Cui’e, enjoying her tea nearby, was overjoyed: “It’s selling this well?!”

Manager Liu from the industrial district added in puzzlement, “Boss Wang makes sense, but that Ida…and these individual players, what could they possibly want with so much?”

Si Zhiyan picked up a few more letters, glanced over them, and understood, chuckling, “I see.”

“These are all familiar names—I’ve seen them on the tax registry. They must be caravan players buying in bulk to supply player settlements farther afield.”

Come to think of it, that made sense.

Who loved processed meat the most? Individual adventurers?

No!
It was the merchants dealing in bulk transport!

While players always fretted that “most buff foods are hard to carry,” the ones troubled most were the transport caravans!

And what plagued them wasn’t convenience—but shelf life.

Most of the farm’s buffed foods were intended for immediate consumption. Chicken wings, marinated seafood, cheesy meat pasta…anything that kept even a week was considered good.
Cold storage at scale was expensive. To ship food by caravan, you needed at least two outstanding ice-ability players per convoy. The price of ice users soared as a result. It was said even the number one ice-type, Chosen Liang Qingshuang, couldn’t resist the profit and took her mercenary team on a two-day cargo run…

Of course, none of this troubled Si Zhiyan in the least.
Whenever he crouched down, a cool, fluffy little fridge bunny would hop into his pocket, solving all problems instantly…

But now, with shelf-stable processed meat, everything was different!

The night before, the merchant Ida, living in a city apartment, wrote his letter feverishly by lamplight, so worked up that his trembling pen nearly tore through the paper.

Canned food!
Canned food that could withstand anything—perfect for transport, shelf life measured by years!!

No one knew the value of such food better than Ida.
He could already foresee it: when these goods arrived at distant settlements, they’d be snatched up in an instant.

Back before the arrival of the farm, food was the hardest currency in the Hunger Game!

Previously, thanks to preservation limitations, the farm’s food couldn’t travel far.

Now, he could go farther—much farther!

In places the farm’s fame hadn’t yet spread, people would pay staggering sums for life-saving cans—and what the farm considered “staggering” was peanuts compared to what was usual for food in the Hunger Game.

Besides feeding themselves, some would want to hoard, others to resell…second-hand merchants, fourth-hand merchants would arise…

And Ida himself, living closer to the farm, would profit all the more. The farm got the lion’s share, he picked up the scraps—still enough to fill his bowl to overflowing.

Thinking this, Ida rubbed his hands together excitedly and called his wife over: “Darling, we’re going to be rich!”
“A farm full of gold—it’s true, just like I said!”

“Moving here was the second smartest thing we ever did!”

Next to him stood a woman in a cheongsam, with twin blades at her waist and her hair wound into a tight bun.

Ida’s wife was a capable combat player, her new scars pressed over old wounds, her bandages still seeping blood.
Because of that, she hadn’t queued with Ida, staying at camp instead, waiting for him to bring back a place to stay and medicine, or perhaps…waiting to die.

Down to their last resources, she’d caught a rumor, grabbed his hand, and said: Let’s go try the farm.

And so Ida carried her, traveling seven days and nights through dangerous creepypasta cities, to reach the farm.

Under the farm doctor’s care, she was now healed, lounging on the sofa with a soft sigh, her Chinese accent touched with Fujianese: “So what’s the smartest thing?”

“It was being with you, darling.”

She snorted: “Cornball!”

Ida grinned till his eyes disappeared, hugging his wife tightly.

His thoughts drifted back to their first arrival at the farm.

It was a throng of people, a sea of heads. Ida queued two days and nights, eating and sleeping in line, and still didn’t know if he’d get a house. Frantic, and bored to tears, he was stepped on—sparking a random chat.

Then, a figure dark and lean turned to glance at him.

That was a clear pair of red eyes, their gaze reserved, but not threatening—calm, almost compassionate.

Ida knew nothing at the time, and had the nerve to blab on about how they ought to build a monument to the farm owner.

The man seemed to smile, and said: “No need.”

He also said, “Just wait a little longer. We’ll resolve it soon.”

Half a day later, after he’d gone, the lines parted. A farm player appeared, waving for everyone to follow—the city apartments were now open, and everyone would get housing.

That’s how Ida moved into the city, and he and his wife got their little apartment.

Ida, embracing his wife, lowered his head and took a deep breath.

The farm owner—Mr. Si!

That day, Mr. Si had looked at him, but it was as though he was seeing everyone at once.

Ida knew the boss was unimaginably busy and probably wouldn’t remember him.

And yet, those few words alone…
His entire life, completely changed.

In just a few months, he’d gone from starving and despairing in an apocalyptic wasteland, to now—housing, ambitions to pursue, and the feeling that things could only get better…

Ida squeezed his wife close. She leaned into him, then, after a moment, said softly, “Meeting the farm, and the farm owner, was our fortune… and the fortune of all humanity.”

She looked up at a corner of the room.

Before the apocalypse, her family had offered sacrifices every New Year. After, with her family dead, she’d smashed all the old god figurines.

Gods that don’t protect the faithful—what’s the use of worshipping them?

But now, in their living room’s corner, was a glowing, offering-laden little shrine—with a plaque inside, reading:
[To Mr. Si Zhiyan, Owner of the Farm]

Together, they bowed devoutly toward the shrine.

It might seem strange to hold onto such traditions seven years into the apocalypse.
But Ida knew—they weren’t the only ones.

All over the city, throughout the farm, countless others quietly gave thanks to the owner in their own way.

Not for gain, just…

The human heart is fragile; it must have something to cling to.

………
……

Fortunately, Si Zhiyan had no idea about this spine-tingling wave of devotion.

All the previous night, businessmen like Ida tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
Countless players, suddenly aware of this business opportunity, began gathering teams.

And today, letters poured in like snow, burying the farm’s utility office.

Farm foods used to be limited by production and geography to locals only.
Now, with vast numbers of shelf-stable processed meats, the farm’s reach would expand exponentially.

Li Cui’e sighed, “In time, the farm’s users could far outnumber the local residents.”
She frowned a little, “Could we keep up with demand?”

Most farm nurseries were still hand-harvested.
Even with players who could fly and crops of every kind, growing at tremendous speeds so yield wasn’t a worry…the output rate could only go so fast.

Si Zhiyan crossed his legs, sipped his coffee, and said, “No problem.”

“The entire dockside meat processing zone—modern factory technology, all of it. The machines never stop. Dozens of thousands of pieces of finished smoked meat every day—there’s no way to even shut it down.”

Li Cui’e grinned so wide her eye teeth showed: “Ah, now we’re really making money!”

Except… it felt like something had been forgotten…

……

Yun Zhong, buried in the sea of letters: “…………”
Does anyone care about me at all? Hello?