"Overclock Mode!"
With a soft hum, his thoughts surged into high gear again. Lister began integrating, evolving, and summarizing his knowledge. This ability mattered. Beyond discovering it by accident, he wanted to turn it into something like the Six-Storehouse Immortal Thief—devouring all things to make up for the life force burned by ultra-fast regeneration and ultra-fast thinking.
[Ultra-fast digestion further reinforced.]
[You have comprehended Second-Gear Ultra-Fast Digestion and named it Six-Storehouse Immortal Thief.]
Pfft—
The instant he pushed ultra-fast digestion to the second tier, blood seeped from all seven orifices. His limbs ached. Dizziness and hunger crashed over him.
"Bring the meat!"
His voice shook as he shouted. In a few gulps he stuffed half the meat and desserts into his stomach.
"Keep it coming," Lister told the girl whose platter was already empty, then set about the remaining half. After seven or eight rounds like that, he finally stopped. When he sent the attendants away, Lister sat quietly, feeling out his body. Spirit and flesh were back at their peak, and a comfort unlike anything before spread through him.
"Even freshly created, the Six-Storehouse Immortal Thief triples my digestion speed compared to before, and it adds an essence-refining function. That refined essence flows through my body, patching damage everywhere—maybe even repaying life force I've already spent. At this level it's enough for now."
Time flew; another week passed. During that stretch, Lister drew on insights from his previous world and the cultivation notes of predecessors in this one to develop brand-new attack techniques—thinking them up and drilling them until his body knew them too.
"I remember the holds were full before, and the Black Gold had eight-tenths of her holds packed. By my count that should feed a hundred men for a month and a half. How are we already short?" Lister frowned at Schindler, displeased.
Schindler looked aggrieved and hesitated to speak. The man before him was, after all, Captain Lister of the Money Pirates; he didn't dare.
"Don't hem and haw—speak plainly," Lister said coldly, watching his expression.
"Captain, our stores were indeed sufficient. The reason we're running out is because you've been eating too much lately, so…"
"Alright, I get it," Lister cut him off, face flattening as the truth finally clicked. So that's what these days were.
"How much is left—how many days can I eat?" he asked.
"If you keep eating like before, at most three days," Schindler replied at once; he knew the numbers by heart.
"If you cut back like you said, we could last six or seven days."
"Fine. From today I'll tighten my belt," Lister said.
Nami's mouth twitched beside him.
"Aye!" Schindler answered and withdrew.
Is anyone reading this book? If you are, say something. It's been three days since release and none of the stats have moved. The colder they look, the harder it is to keep going. If you can, please give it some support—much appreciated.