Hunger was a persistent notification that Lin Feng couldn't swipe away.
He woke before dawn, the cold seeping through the gaps in the mud walls like a physical intruder. His stomach wasn't just growling; it was cramping, a deep, hollow ache that signaled his glycogen stores were running on fumes.
STATUS ALERT: CALORIC RESERVES: 8%. WARNING: MUSCLE AUTOPHAGY IMMINENT. RECOMMENDATION: CONSUME PROTEIN.
"Autophagy," Lin Feng rasped, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "The body eating its own muscle tissue for fuel. Wonderful."
He stood up. The "Cellular Reinforcement" from yesterday's fight had faded, leaving him feeling heavy and brittle. He needed food. Real food. Not the watery rice gruel the village headman distributed like liquid gold.
He grabbed his hatchet and stepped out into the pre-dawn grey.
The village was silent. The snow was knee-deep. Lin Feng didn't head for the logging camp. He headed for the rocky ridge behind the village, a place too steep for the other woodcutters to bother with.
In his previous life, Lin Feng had been an avid consumer of survivalist content. He knew that in winter, small game sought heat.
He found a small fissure in the rock face, venting a faint wisp of steam—likely a geothermal vent deep underground. To the System, this was a Spirit Vein Leak. To Lin Feng, it was a radiator.
"Heat source identified," he whispered. "Animals will congregate here."
He gathered several flat stones and a handful of frozen sturdy branches. He began to construct a Figure-Four Deadfall Trap. It was a simple mechanism: a trigger stick supporting a heavy rock. When an animal touched the bait, the stick would slip, and gravity would do the rest.
He placed the stones in a specific pattern to funnel prey toward the trigger.
As he set the final stone, the blue window popped up, hovering over his crude arrangement.
PATTERN RECOGNIZED. ANALYZING GEOMETRY... CONFIGURATION: OCTAGONAL PERIMETER. ENERGY FLOW: CENTRALIZED. SKILL UNLOCKED: [BASIC EARTH FORMATION]. CURRENT RANK: NOVICE.
Lin Feng stared at the screen. "Formation? It's a rock trap. I'm just funneling the target. It's basic geometry, not magic."
He shook his head at the glitchy interface. "Whatever. Just work."
He baited the trigger with a strip of dried bark he'd chewed to release the scent, then retreated behind a boulder to wait.
Ten minutes later, a creature scuttled out of the fissure.
It looked like a rat, but it was the size of a house cat, with fur that shimmered a faint, iridescent blue. Its eyes glowed with a dull red light.
Bioluminescence, Lin Feng noted. Deep-sea adaptation? Or maybe a mutation caused by the radiation here.
The rat sniffed the air, drawn to the trap. It stepped into the circle of stones.
SNAP.
The trigger tripped. The heavy slate slammed down.
TARGET ELIMINATED. SPECIES: SNOW-SPIRIT RAT (LEVEL 1). THREAT LEVEL: NEGLIGIBLE.
Lin Feng rushed forward, adrenaline warming his limbs. He lifted the rock. The creature was dead.
He didn't have the luxury of being squeamish. He skinned the creature with his hatchet, his hands shaking, and roasted the meat over a small fire he started with flint and steel.
He took a bite.
It didn't taste like chicken. It tasted like electricity and chili peppers. A burning, tingling heat exploded in his mouth and raced down his throat.
"Spicy," he choked, tears filling his eyes. "High capsaicin content? Or... chemical reaction?"
INGESTING BIO-ACTIVE MATERIAL. DETECTING HIGH-ENERGY PROTEINS. CONVERTING TO VITALITY... TOXIN RESISTANCE: +5% (TEMPORARY).
He forced himself to swallow. His stomach felt like a furnace.
[The Imperial Capital: The Golden Pavilion]
While Lin Feng ate his spicy rat in a freezing forest, Empress Su Qingyue sat in a garden that smelled of eternal spring.
It was the hour of the Morning Tea, a ritual as dangerous as any battlefield.
Across the low table sat Consort Yun, the daughter of the Grand General. Consort Yun was beautiful, smiling, and currently wearing a dress that cost more than Lin Feng's entire village.
"Your Majesty," Consort Yun said, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. "You look pale. Does the burden of the throne weigh so heavily?"
Su Qingyue adjusted her silk sleeves. She knew Yun wanted her crown. She knew Yun's father had half the army in his pocket.
"The throne is a weight only the chosen can bear, sister," Su Qingyue replied calmly. "I worry that your shoulders are too delicate."
Consort Yun's smile tightened. She gestured to a servant. "I have brought a special blend from my father's estate in the South. Crimson Fog Tea. It is said to invigorate the blood."
The servant poured a cup. The liquid was a dark, ominous red.
Su Qingyue's eyes narrowed. She saw the way the servant's hand trembled slightly. She saw the eager glint in Consort Yun's eyes.
Poison, Su Qingyue realized. It has to be.
But she couldn't refuse. To refuse a gift from the Grand General's daughter in public would be a political insult that could trigger a coup. The court was watching.
If I drink, I might die. If I don't, I show fear.
She made a calculation. She had survived poison before. Her constitution was strangely resilient lately.
"You are generous," Su Qingyue said.
She lifted the cup. The scent was cloying, masking the metallic tang of arsenic and Seven-Step Heart Stopper.
She drank it all in one smooth motion.
Consort Yun's eyes widened in anticipation. She leaned forward, waiting for the Empress to cough blood, to clutch her throat, to fall.
Su Qingyue felt the cold liquid hit her stomach. She felt the tendrils of numbness start to spread.
This is it, she thought. This one is strong.
Suddenly, a violent sensation erupted in her gut.
It wasn't pain. It was... heat. A searing, spicy, electric heat that roared through her system like a wildfire. It clashed with the cold poison, burning it away in an instant.
It was the phantom sensation of Lin Feng digesting the high-energy Spirit Rat meat.
Su Qingyue's cheeks flushed a healthy, vibrant pink. A bead of sweat rolled down her neck. She felt incredibly, aggressively alive. The lethargy of the poison vanished, replaced by a surge of raw energy.
She let out a small, satisfied burp.
The silence in the pavilion was deafening.
Consort Yun's jaw dropped. She stared at the Empress, who was now practically glowing with health.
"Is... is the tea to your liking, Your Majesty?" Yun stammered, her face pale. That dose should have killed an ox!
Su Qingyue was just as confused, but she hid it behind a mask of regal arrogance. She slammed the cup down on the table.
"It is a bit... mild," Su Qingyue said, her voice booming with newfound power. "But acceptable. Next time, brew it stronger, Consort Yun."
She stood up, feeling like she could punch through a brick wall.
"I have a meeting with the War Council," Su Qingyue announced. She turned and swept out of the pavilion, her steps leaving cracked indentations in the stone pathway.
Consort Yun watched her go, trembling. "She... she's a monster. The rumors are true. She's not human."
[Northern Creek Village]
Lin Feng finished the last bite of the rat. He wiped his mouth, feeling the strange burning sensation subside into a comfortable warmth.
MEAL COMPLETE. VITALITY RESTORED TO 40%. PASSIVE EFFECT: [POISON NULLIFICATION] EXPENDED. STATUS: STABLE.
"Poison nullification?" Lin Feng frowned at the text. "There must have been some bacteria in the meat. Good thing my immune system is kicking in."
He kicked snow over the fire. He had food in his belly. He had a weapon.
Now, he needed money.
He looked at the glowing blue pelt of the rat. It was unusual. Maybe the village trader would give him a few copper coins for it.
He picked up the pelt and headed back toward the village, unaware that he had just saved the ruler of the known world from a meticulously planned assassination with a spicy breakfast.
As he walked, the System interface expanded.
NEW OBJECTIVE: RESOURCE ACCUMULATION. DETECTING NEARBY MARKET OPPORTUNITY. SUGGESTED ACTION: BARTER.
Lin Feng adjusted his rags. "Time to negotiate."