Chapter 465 - 184: "Frontline Number 1 Is Tough.

Chapter 465: Chapter 184: "Frontline Number 1 Is Tough.

A member of the Logistics Pavilion strode out of the High-speed Rail, holding his Identity Token high.

"Sanmao, a member of the Jiangbei Mortal Realm Logistics Pavilion."

"By order of the Domain Lord, I am escorting food and supplies to aid the No. 1 Frontline."

"Excellent, excellent."

Sister Chan was personally leading a team to receive them. When she saw the train cars packed to the brim with grain, and even a good number of lively pigs and sheep, she couldn’t stop grinning.

"Thank you both for your hard work."

"Please, have some tea over there. We’ll be quick."

Then, a large group of people swarmed forward to move the food supplies, taking them directly to several kitchen areas. They would start the fires tonight; tomorrow morning, they would have a hot meal. They didn’t know how long it had been since they’d last eaten something hot.

As the sky gradually brightened, the long-lost aroma of a hot meal once again drifted over the No. 1 Frontline.

...

「Western Eternal Night Xuanwu No. 1 Frontline.」

"Shift change, shift change. Time to go get some sleep."

A man in a vest, a Big Saber slung over his shoulder, rode a Suspended Basket down from the City Wall. Landing on the ground, he yawned and started walking toward a cluster of Wooden Houses in the distance. A large group of people was also descending from the wall around him.

They had all been on the night watch.

Day had broken. It was their turn to sleep. Next up were the logistics teams, who would get up, head outside the city walls, and start collecting Ghost Stones and dissecting Ghost Objects.

He picked up his pace.

’I haven’t eaten all night, and I’m starving. I’ll go grab some fried noodles, fill my belly, and then hurry back to bed.’

This defensive line stretched a full 108 kilometers, so naturally, not everyone gathered in one place to eat. That would mean running tens of kilometers just for a meal. Setting aside whether they could even manage such a run, a sprint like that right after eating would burn off all the calories anyway.

Behind the defensive line, there were over a dozen designated areas for daily meals.

The mess areas.

It might just be simple fried noodles, but even so, with so many people stationed here, someone had to be on wok duty.

The man muttered to himself as he walked toward the nearest mess hall. Last night’s watch had been pretty relaxed. It wasn’t the rainy season, so there was virtually no chance of the line falling. He’d even managed to sneak in a quick nap.

’It would be great if every night was this safe.’

But in the next moment—

He suddenly froze in place.

’Wait, did I just smell something... something I shouldn’t be smelling?’

’It smells like...’

’...cooked meat?’

Then, he saw throngs of people holding bowls, practically sprinting toward the mess hall. Disbelief flashed in his eyes, and then it hit him.

An indescribable emotion surged through him.

He let out a whoop of excitement.

And broke into a run, charging toward the crowd!

One step, two steps... and on the third, he was suddenly, shockingly, running on thin air, sprinting through the sky.

But in that moment, he was completely oblivious.

All he knew was that he was running faster than ever before.

In an instant, he reached the mess hall.

When he saw the dozens of large pots filled with steaming pork and cabbage stew with glass noodles, a lump formed in his throat. His eyes reddened as he charged to the front of the line, thrusting his bowl forward. "Fill it to the brim! To the brim!!!"

"..."

The cook at the pot stared, slightly dumbfounded, at the man before him. "Damn, brother, you’re fast."

"Just fill it up!"

The man eagerly grabbed his brimming bowl of pork and cabbage stew with glass noodles, speared four steamed buns from a nearby basket with his chopsticks, and then moved to the side to start scarfing it all down.

’Delicious.’

He didn’t even know how long it had been since he’d eaten a meal fit for a human being.

Ever since the supply line to their front was cut, they had basically been eating only fried noodles. Forget meat; even a scrap of vegetable was a rare sight.

As he ate, the man actually started to cry.

Not because he was moved to tears by the flavor,

but because he was eating so fast he bit his tongue. ’Ouch, that hurts...’

"Slow down."

A middle-aged man walked over, also holding a bowl of pork and cabbage stew with glass noodles. He squatted on the ground and unhurriedly lifted some noodles with his chopsticks, shaking them in the air to cool them off.

"All that Cultivation to become a Martial King, just so you could be first in line for a meal?"

"For all we know, this could be our last meal."

"..."

The man, who had been scarfing down his food, suddenly froze and looked up at the middle-aged man.

"Just kidding."

The middle-aged man laughed and pointed to a large jar nearby. "There are chili flakes over there. This pork and cabbage stew tastes better if you sprinkle in some of those dried chili flakes and mix it up."

"Good call."

The man gave him a thumbs-up and rushed over to the large jar.

"..."

The middle-aged man watched him hurry away and was struck by a thought.

Under special circumstances, a Cultivator can achieve a moment of sudden enlightenment, allowing them to do things like create their own Martial Arts.

But those circumstances are usually life-or-death situations.

That fellow just had an epiphany, comprehending a Body Technique that lets him walk on air. It was the first time he’d ever seen anyone master new Martial Arts just because they were in a rush to eat.

’A prodigy in his own right, I suppose.’

But then he couldn’t be bothered with such thoughts. He took a deep breath, opened his cavernous mouth, and shoved a massive mouthful of noodles, meat, and cabbage into his mouth. Then he took a big bite of the steamed bun in his hand, closed his eyes, and chewed blissfully.

’Those other guys just don’t get it. You have to cool it down first before you can really dig in.’

’Haste makes waste.’

"..."

Sister Chan stood on the City Wall, looking down at the scene below, her eyes filled with warmth. Seeing everyone eating happily made her happy too. She couldn’t prevent people from dying while defending the front, but she could at least ensure they had a good meal before the end.

’Thank you, Mortal Realm.’

Today, all 770,000 people ate a meal of pork and cabbage stew with glass noodles.

It was a proper human meal, the likes of which they hadn’t had in a long, long time.

Every last one of them ate to their heart’s content.

...

He was awake.

It was morning. Chen Fan lay in bed, not immediately crawling out from under the covers. It was a bit cold outside, and he wanted to laze around for a bit. He turned his head and stared blankly at the Eternal Night Calendar on the wall for a moment before leaping out of bed.

Stepping out of the cave, he stood on the City Wall, gave a long, luxurious stretch, and grinned.

"That was a good sleep."

"Time to get to work!"

Humans are strange creatures. No matter how exhausted you are, a good night’s sleep is all it takes to feel completely recharged.

It’s like rebooting a computer.