That delicate balance shattered soon after Mi Milo swallowed his first bite, truly shocked by that spicy flavour, and could not help exclaiming, "Never thought carrion rat could taste this good!"
No sooner said than broken!
As soon as he spoke, Mi Milo grabbed another strip and popped it into his mouth.
Watching those aromatic strips disappear from the iron plate—one less with each bite—the soldiers on the sidelines could no longer stay calm.
"Young lady, I'm willing to pay one hundred Alliance credits for all that rat meat—how about it?"
The speaker was a soldier in his twenties. He had barely finished when another soldier shot him down.
"Kane, have some sincerity. Exiled criminals had their personal brain terminals removed—they can't use Alliance credits. And this is Waste Star—only food has real value."
Having said that, he immediately made an offer. "I'll trade one bottle of low‑grade nutrient solution for one strip."
A bottle of low‑grade nutrient solution cost fifteen Alliance credits. Compared to the previous soldier who wanted to buy up all her rat‑on‑the‑griddle for a hundred credits, trading one strip for one bottle was already quite a good deal.
Moreover, on Waste Star, natives and exiles alike survived by scavenging, while all nutrient solution was controlled by the stationed detachment. Each soldier's daily ration was limited, so the value of nutrient solution here was only higher!
Hearing that offer, Lan Grace had already agreed in her heart. Before she could answer, the other soldiers chimed in one after another.
"I'll trade one bottle of low‑grade nutrient solution for a strip too!"
"Count me in."
"Me too!"
"One bottle for one strip—put me down. It smells too good! I'll swap just to try a bite and scratch the itch."
Hearing that her rat‑on‑the‑griddle was fetching such interest, Lan Grace suddenly had other thoughts.
The strips were limited, and there were more people than meat—best to auction and let the highest bidder win.
But with her identity as an exile, if she openly drove up the price against these soldiers, she would easily offend people.
She might enjoy the selling in the moment, but if a small‑minded soldier bore a grudge and put obstacles in her way later, she, an exile with no backing left, would not be able to withstand it.
So, selling was one thing; she could not afford to offend them.
Even if she wanted to sell high, she needed to make them willingly "pay up."
With that in mind, Lan Grace changed her expression.
Her previously calm face showed a hint of embarrassment.
She raised her head to look towards the soldiers stationed on Waste Star and said gently, "Thank you so much for being willing to trade a bottle of low‑grade nutrient solution for a strip. But there aren't many strips left. Even if I trade them all, there won't be enough for everyone to have one, so…"
As she spoke, her words trailed off.
She looked tangled—clearly just as at a loss about what to do.
This reality, once she pointed it out, dawned on the soldiers who wanted to trade.
Someone said, "I asked first. It should go to me first."
"I was among the first few to ask to trade—surely I get a strip?"
As soon as these spoke up, the ones who had asked later were unhappy.
"Why? It's not that I can't pay! I don't care—there are a dozen plus strips. I'm getting one."
Seeing the soldiers about to argue themselves red in the face—
At that moment, still lost in the deliciousness, Mi Milo reached for another strip.
But before he could put it in his mouth, a chorus of shouts rang out.
"Kid—put down my meat!"
There were not many strips on the iron plate to begin with, and each one eaten was one less. They could not watch that exiled blond brat eat what would soon belong to them.
Jolted by the shout, Mi Milo came to his senses. His hand jerked, and the strip fell back onto the iron plate.
Seeing the soldiers in grey‑blue uniforms not far away all exhale in relief, he still did not quite understand what was going on, when Lan Grace spoke.
"Much as I want to trade with each of you, as you can see, there aren't many strips left. And making these strips requires a very special seasoning—otherwise they couldn't be this tasty—and I don't have much seasoning left. Even if I make more later, the quantity will be limited."
No sooner had Lan Grace finished than a soldier shouted, "I'll trade two bottles of low‑grade nutrient solution for one strip."
She did not even need to speak—someone volunteered to let the highest price win.
Rarity breeds value. Knowing there would not be many strips, competition naturally began.
Two bottles of low‑grade nutrient solution were enough to keep a robust adult full for twenty‑four hours. For a skinny girl like Lan Grace, that would be two days' worth.
Satisfied with that price, Lan Grace nodded inwardly.
Stifling her smile, she said in apparent delight, "That's a good idea! That way, there'll be fewer people trading for my strips—there should be enough to go around, right?"
As she spoke, she deliberately speared a strip with her fruit knife and waved it slightly towards the soldiers, smiling.
"Anyone else who wants a strip—please queue over here."
As soon as she said it, the soldier who had first offered two bottles stepped briskly to the iron plate.
He reached out with a calloused hand, pinched up a strip, and tossed it into his mouth to chew.
Moments later, surprise bloomed on his face—he really had not expected carrion rat to be made this delicious!
"Another for me."
He fished four bottles of low‑grade nutrient solution from his jacket in one go and shoved them into Lan Grace's hands, then grabbed another strip, unable to wait.
This time, he did not swallow quickly. Instead, he chewed it over and over, reluctant to let it go, savouring the flavour.
The carrion rat strips, with their spicy, springy bite, only grew more fragrant the more one chewed. He could hardly resist trading more nutrient solution for more!
Unfortunately, though he had named that price himself, two bottles for one strip was indeed on the steep side.
Their daily rations were limited. He truly could not spare much to trade.
Otherwise, though he could satisfy his cravings for a moment, he would be hungry afterwards…
His example, trading and then trading again, sent a clear message to the rest: "This is really good!"
Or he would not have gone back for seconds.