Liu Bi looked toward the horizon. Dust trails stretched across the landscape as the sound of engines grew louder. Three heavily modified motorcycles skidded to a halt outside the warehouse.
The bikes looked mostly familiar—just larger wheels and cruder components, like they'd been built from scrap. Five people dismounted, the leader a bulky man clad in a thick leather coat, gloves, and a helmet. His voice was low and gruff as he stepped forward.
"This supply point's been abandoned for a long time."
Liu Bi smiled calmly. "It's under reconstruction."
"What is it now?"
"A restaurant," Liu Bi replied, evenly.
The man laughed loudly, slapping spores off his coat before stepping through the wide-open doors. The other four stayed back, wary, their hands hovering near holsters or deep in their pockets.
Liu Bi didn't stop him. He didn't flinch, didn't react. Even his breathing was steady.
The man glanced around the warehouse and gave a short grunt. "Looks like you're serious about rebuilding."
When his gaze fell on the water collection tanks, his eyes lit up.
"Old-style distillation? You've got some skills."
So that's what they called it—"Old-style Water Refining."
He waved the others in. They approached more cautiously.
"Well, owner," he said, "my people and our rides need a meal. What do you have?"
Liu Bi glanced over the five of them. "Food for your vehicles, and food for you—I have both. Not much variety, but I guarantee it tastes good."
"What's on the menu?"
"Thigh meat from a mid-tier mutant beast."
The man's brow furrowed. They finally noticed the slabs of meat hanging in the corner—legs from a beast known as the 'Leg Egg,' treated with alkaline solvents and expertly prepped.
"You can eat Leg Egg?" the man asked.
"Only mid-tier ones. And only if you remove the toxins. Which, coincidentally, I can do."
"That's a mutated creature," someone else said sharply. "You can't just—"
The leader raised a hand and cut them off.
"How much?"
"Four hundred credits," Liu Bi replied. "Or we can barter."
"Not cheap," the big man said as he sat down and removed his helmet. "I've got five high-grade water filters. Enough for two months of use. You'll need them soon—can't rely on your fire-and-limestone method forever."
Liu Bi didn't know the market value of filters. But it sounded fair. He gave a small nod.
"Deal."
"Got gasoline?" the man asked.
"I do," Liu Bi answered. "That'll cost extra."
"Let's eat first."
The others shut the door behind them and took seats on the ground.
Liu Bi said nothing more. He pulled on his protective gear, retrieved the meat, and began to cook.
Each cut had already been flame-seared for fifteen seconds—enough to create a crispy char but not enough to guarantee safety. He poured gasoline over the surface and ignited it, then soaked the pieces in alkaline solution before peeling away the hardened exterior.
Underneath was a succulent pink meat with an almost jewel-like sheen.
He skewered the chunks and roasted them over fire. The fat crackled and hissed, releasing a mouthwatering aroma—a scent none of the bikers had encountered in years. Even Liu Bi, who came from the old Earth with its abundant ingredients, had rarely smelled something so rich.
"Damn… Boss, this guy's for real," one of the crew muttered, dabbing at the corners of his eyes. Another rubbed his hands together like a starving fly.
Their leader—this burly, hardened man—was slowly drawn into the scent, his eyes wandering into memories.
Years ago, someone had suggested taming mutant beasts for food, to solve the growing shortage. He'd dismissed it back then. Yet here, someone had not only done it, but served it.
The hymn of humanity… was courage.
"It's done," Liu Bi said, snapping him out of his thoughts.
The man blinked, then stared at the skewer set before him. There were no real tables or chairs, and the meat was impaled on raw metal rods—but it looked… irresistible.
"You eat first," the man said, still cautious.
Liu Bi didn't hesitate. After a thorough wipe-down, he bit into a piece.
The meat was crisp, lean, with firm fibers that gave satisfying resistance with each chew. If there was a difference from premium beef, it was that it absolutely had to be well-done.
The others watched the timer anxiously.
Three minutes passed.
No reaction.
They exhaled collectively.
"Let's eat!"
Their leader barked the order, and the others attacked the food with fervor. One cut his lip. Another bit his tongue. No one stopped.
Because it was good. Unbelievably good.
The best synthetic meat in Zone Nine couldn't compare.
When the last skewer was clean, the big man wiped his mouth. "Boss, we need five liters of gasoline."
Liu Bi nodded. "I have it. What's the offer?"
"Let me test the quality."
He poured some into a tin cup, sniffed it, dipped a finger in and rubbed it between thumb and forefinger.
"Purity's decent. I'll pay Zone Nine's standard rate—forty credits per liter. Fair?"
Liu Bi said nothing at first. He'd just learned that his meal was worth ten liters of gasoline.
The man misread his silence as hesitation and chuckled. "You're good at business. But with skills like this, why not come work for me?"
"I'm just a cook."
The man sighed and handed over a small iron badge.
"Name's Roman. Flash this and say my name if you ever need to get through a safe zone checkpoint."
"Liu Bi. Thank you. I accept the deal."
Roman looked around the warehouse, then grinned. "This ain't much of a restaurant. Let me do you a favor. Boys—help the man out!"
Without missing a beat, his crew jumped into action—installing filters, sealing pipes, patching the roof, reinforcing walls, slapping on fresh sealant.
Soon, water flowed cleanly and the space looked almost respectable.
"Call your place 'Wasteland Diner.' What do you say?"
Liu Bi smiled. "Good name."
Roman painted the four large characters—Wasteland Diner—in bright red across the wall. You could see them from a hundred meters out.
As dusk fell, Roman and his crew mounted their bikes.
One of them gave Liu Bi a friendly clap on the shoulder. "Boss likes talent. Hope we meet again."
"You're always welcome," Liu Bi replied.
The bikes roared back to life and faded into the wind.
Liu Bi turned to his system.
+50 credits.