Chapter 32: The Photo

“Hey, anybody trade dirt for food yet?”
“Yeah, I did—but barely. Only half a pound.”
“Is Chen Zhuo really that shady? Only half a pound?”
“No, he doesn’t take just any old dirt. He wants *fertile* soil. I had to hand over half a ton just to get that measly half-pound.”

“So… the food really *is* rare-tier?”
“Mm-hmm.” Then came a photo: a thick, juicy pork hind leg.

Originally, this survivor hadn’t planned to spill the beans—after all, only fifty pounds of rations were up for grabs. But Chen Zhuo had messaged him: *Send a picture of the meat to the chat channel, and I’ll give you an extra half-pound.*

With no extra fertile soil on hand, he figured, why not squeeze one last quick profit?

The moment the image hit the chat, Chen Zhuo’s inbox exploded. Notifications flooded in—99+ friend requests piled up like snowdrifts.

No time to waste. He rejected every single one, then typed out a message:

> “Rare food is limited to 50 pounds. I’m only taking fertile soil. Check your backpacks—don’t waste your time adding me if you don’t have it. Thanks.”

The backpack description wasn’t as detailed as the system scan, but it was enough to tell soil quality at a glance.

After that note, only a dozen or so people tried again. He added them one by one. It took a few minutes, but soon enough, he’d collected exactly fifty tons of fertile soil.

Perfect. Not only did he secure his soil supply, but he also cleared out some low-grade, less-than-fresh meat in the process.

Just about to post that the food allotment was fully sold out, Du Xin slid into his DMs.

【Du Xin: Why do you need so much dirt? You planning to farm?】
【Chen Zhuo: What’s wrong with that?】

When she didn’t argue back, she pressed on:
【Du Xin: So… still want fertile soil? I’ll trade you my necklace for it—how’s that?】
【Chen Zhuo: Dream on. That thing’s solid gold. You think dirt’s gonna buy it?】

He paused, then added:
【Chen Zhuo: Necklace’s non-negotiable. But if you’re willing to trade soil for food, I’ll sweeten the deal. One and a half pounds of food per ton of soil. Fair?】

After that little prank last time, Chen Zhuo realized Du Xin wasn’t half bad. Especially after she handed him that medkit—genuinely touched him.

【Du Xin: Seriously?】

Truth be told, she hadn’t expected to get her necklace back. She’d come asking mostly for food. But now, hearing this offer, she nearly jumped. Then doubt crept in—was this another trick?

【Du Xin: Just soil? Nothing else?】
【Chen Zhuo: If you let me see what you’re wearing, I’d be even more excited.】

She ignored the comment outright—afraid he’d change his mind.
【Du Xin: How much do you need? I’ll go dig right now.】
【Chen Zhuo: Take all you’ve got. Bring it. I’ll take it all.】

This wasn’t about flirting. No, not at all. The fifty tons were based on a rough calculation—20 centimeters deep across the shelter’s farmland. For better crop growth, soil could go deeper—up to half a meter. But Chen Zhuo wasn’t about to trade *that* much food just for dirt.

Now that Du Xin was coming to him with a request, he saw no harm in doing a favor—laying the groundwork for a long-term supply chain.

【Du Xin: Deal. One word.】

Back in the chat, Chen Zhuo posted:
> “All 50 pounds of rare food have been claimed.”

He’d planned to head out for a hunt during the last few hours of daylight. But before he could move, another message popped up—still from Du Xin.

【Du Xin: Picture.】

The photo appeared.

Du Xin was no longer dressed in her usual blue-star gear. Instead, she wore a simple tunic made of coarse fabric, draped loosely over her frame. Her silhouette had thinned, but her figure remained elegant—shoulders soft, hips rounded, waist defined.

Even thinner than before, she still carried herself with grace. Her face—clear, delicate, familiar—was different now. The tight frown from last time had vanished. Her brows relaxed. A quiet smile played at the corner of her lips.

Where once she looked like someone carrying the weight of the world, now she looked like a girl straight out of a dream—fresh-faced, radiant, glowing with quiet joy.

Looking at the photo—the way her eyes crinkled at the corners, the gentle curve of her smile—Chen Zhuo felt his cheeks warm. He instinctively rubbed the bridge of his nose, took a slow breath, then shut the chat window.

“Whew.”

He exhaled hard, forcing down the grin threatening to break through.

“Keep it together. Don’t lose focus.”

Not yet. Not when the world was still dangerous.

He closed the app.

Chen Zhuo needed something to keep his mind off things.

First, he returned to the shelter and stored the soil in the warehouse. Then he activated the Bio-Scan function and began his daily hunt.

A quick note: the gene serum’s effects had fully worn off over the past two days. His final stats stood at:

- Strength: 22 + 5
- Speed: 18 + 5
- Stamina: 20 + 5
- Reflexes: 23 + 5

The serum alone gave him 15 bonus points across the board. Plus three Body Essence Fruits and one Life Vitality Fruit.

That’s why he felt so confident trading food for soil.

As long as he could step outside, with his enhanced body and the Bio-Scan tool, hunting was child’s play.

Growing vegetables wasn’t just about survival—it was about preventing scurvy, balancing nutrition, and making life a little less grim.

He *really* wanted to check out the ruins again. Since his last visit, his strength had improved dramatically.

But then he remembered: the Cataclysm hits at midnight tonight.

Without knowing what’s waiting there, it wasn’t worth risking injury.

For now, the smart play was to stay low, hoard supplies—even if he didn’t eat them, they could be traded later.

His first target today was 700 meters away. To save time, he broke into a sprint. Five minutes later, he spotted it.

【Crimson Wild Bull: Blue-tier. A mutated variant of the refined wild bull, altered by acid rain. Retains all original traits—plus lost most pain sensation, highly aggressive, bloodthirsty.】

“Still crimson-tier beasts,” he muttered. “Did normal wildlife die out completely?”

Frustrated. He’d been too weak to raise livestock earlier. Now, with resources plentiful, finding a *normal* animal felt impossible.

The bull noticed Chen Zhuo standing frozen in place, ignoring its massive form. Enraged, it roared, eyes blazing red, charging forward.

Instead of dodging, Chen Zhuo stepped *into* the charge—arms raised, ready to meet the horns head-on.

**Boom.**

No flying body. No shattered bones.

Chen Zhuo gripped both horns with bare hands. His legs dug into the ground, carving two or three meters of furrow behind him.

The momentum slowed. The bull staggered. Chen Zhuo’s feet stopped moving—just barely.

The beast reared back, confused. Its charge had met resistance it couldn’t comprehend.

And Chen Zhuo? He stood firm. Calm. Unmoved.