I earned 200 yuan from Luo Meng selling gasoline.
I earned 50 yuan from Lin Na selling barbecue.
The money was still in circulation and valid.
This showed that the safe zone still had a complete monetary system.
This money should be able to buy a lot of good supplies.
However, Liu Bi had no means of transportation or maps.
It would be too dangerous to rashly go out and search for the safe zone at this time.
So, the entire 250 yuan would have to be saved for now, with nowhere to spend it.
He glanced toward the dense yellow fog on the horizon, where the faint silhouette of a pyramid-like structure rose high into the sky.
That had to be the safe zone.
After all, both Linna and Luomon's crew had headed in that direction.
But how far it was—Liu Bi had no way of knowing.
His stomach growled. Again.
Grilled mutant leg meat wasn't enough.
Back in the old world, there were tales of survivalists who ate nothing but rabbits and ended up developing "rabbit starvation"—a condition caused by consuming only lean meat, with no fat or carbs.
No matter how well-prepared, eating a single food source led to deficiencies.
He needed sugar. Starch.
A glance around told him the truth: out here, beyond the safety of the wall, there were no rice fields, no soybeans, no sweet potatoes.
Given the deadly sporefall, even if plants had once grown, they'd have mutated—or died.
Liu Bi dug through the corners of the warehouse, scavenging for any leftover supplies from the old days.
Fifteen minutes later, he struck gold.
A classic round tin can—its metallic clink instantly familiar.
He pried the lid open.
Inside were three pieces of hard candy and two unopened vacuum-packed survival biscuits.
The airtight seal had preserved them perfectly. The candies were smooth and unblemished, and the biscuits—tough as rocks—were completely intact.
Liu Bi couldn't help but smile.
The wrappers were faded, illegible, but the contents were unmistakable.
He lifted one biscuit to his nose.
No smell. That was a good sign.
The candies? One coffee-flavored, one milky sweet, and one fake strawberry with that unmistakable industrial aroma.
Even in the apocalypse, it seemed humanity's craving for flavor hadn't changed.
He tore open a biscuit.
Was it safe to eat? Hard to say. But his toxin resistance gave him some confidence.
He took a bite.
Or tried to.
The biscuit might as well have been steel. His jaw ached from the effort.
He grabbed a clean knife and used the back to chip off a small piece.
The flavor was… mixed. A bit sweet, a bit salty. And old. Like chewing on damp cardboard left in a corner for years.
And dry. Painfully dry.
Then he had an idea.
He didn't have to eat it directly. He could make porridge.
He fetched half a pot of water from the pipe—now filtered and much clearer thanks to Luomon's cartridges—then brought it to a boil.
He tossed in two bars of the biscuit.
Slowly, they began to dissolve.
He stirred with a flattened iron rod until the mixture became a thick, bubbling porridge.
The musty smell faded.
A warm, sweet aroma began to fill the warehouse.
Sugar mingled with a touch of salt and pepper—nothing fancy, but in this world, it was a feast.
He stirred until the last chunk vanished. The porridge thickened, turning a pale golden hue.
It needed just a touch more flavor.
He hesitated, then unwrapped the milk candy and dropped it in.
Not only would it sweeten the porridge, it'd add a creaminess that could elevate the texture.
Stirred well, the porridge now looked… unappetizing, admittedly. Like a beige blob.
But the taste—
The taste was worlds better than chewing dry biscuits.
Smooth, rich, subtly sweet, with just the right balance of salt and spice.
It reminded him of home. Of warm kitchens and sleepy mornings. Of sitting at a battered table while his mother stirred a pot of breakfast porridge.
Without realizing, he'd eaten the entire half-pot.
"Ahh… that hit the spot."
A system notification appeared:
[New Dish Discovered: Sweet Biscuit Porridge]Ingredients: Crushed Survival Biscuits, Water, Candy+10 Points EarnedDish Served To: Liu BiCustomer Satisfaction Bonus: +10 Points
Twenty points.All from a single pot of improvised porridge.
More satisfying than the meal itself.
That confirmed it—this system wasn't a one-way cookbook.
He could invent his own recipes and still be rewarded handsomely.
As long as he remained outside the safe zone, credits were meaningless.
But system points? System points were life.
They were the foundation upon which the Wasteland Bistro would rise.
With his stomach full and energy restored, Liu Bi checked the wall. He'd marked it when he first arrived.
This was Day 4.
No clocks, no calendars—just the rising sun and the daily refresh of the system's store.
Time to see what today's offerings were.
He poured himself a cup of boiled water, sat down, and opened the system panel.
The up-pool was still taunting him with that heavy sniper rifle, spinning lazily in the virtual display.
He ignored it.
In the permanent pool, the so-called "S-tier" items varied wildly—from submachine guns and entrenching tools to... pickup trucks.
"S-tier my ass," he muttered. "A shovel and a truck don't belong in the same class."
What he really needed was a vehicle. A motorbike would do. Anything to reach that pyramid-shaped building in the distance.
Unable to resist, he hit the draw button.
A shimmering light appeared in the empty space beside him.
Two sacks of cement.
"…Again?"
He sighed.
These random draws were a trap.
Instead, he turned to the store:
Bicycle – 120 PointsHourglass (20 minutes) – 5 PointsPencils x5 – 10 PointsWire Mesh Barriers x5 – 7 PointsMultipurpose Wrench – 3 PointsAir Purifier (with Filter) – 6 Points...