Ah, even with a surge in recommended votes, the increase was like a bucket of cold water, extinguishing half the passion I felt.

This chapter took me from five o'clock until eight—something that used to take an hour and a half—and now it feels utterly exhausting.

...

Dozens of Jihua essence—that meant hunting down hundreds of zombies, maybe more, just for a chance to acquire that much! A flicker of shock crossed Bai Long’s eyes.

He knew perfectly well how difficult it was to kill a zombie.

Their group of four had spent the entire morning hunting, moving with painstaking caution, narrowly escaping being swarmed on several occasions, and yet they had only managed to dispatch seventy or eighty zombies in total.

But Ye Chen, by himself, had killed four or five hundred—five times their number! “He truly is superhuman,” Bai Long sighed, shaking his head in resignation.

At that moment, Yue Heng and Zhuge Fan, standing nearby, also noticed the huge pile of Jihua essence in the bag and were stunned.

Yue Heng managed to compose himself relatively quickly, already aware of the true extent of Ye Chen’s power.

Zhuge Fan, however, stared at Ye Chen with unconcealed shock, sputtering, “How is that possible…” Ye Chen said nothing more.

Suddenly catching the scent of cooked food, he asked curiously, “Who’s cooking today?” Bai Long and the others exchanged strange glances.

“Ye Zhu is sick.

Mo Feng volunteered to handle the cooking today.” Ye Chen paused.

“He can cook?” “Probably, maybe, perhaps… he can?” Bai Long wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, feeling his own belief waver.

Zhuge Fan and Yue Heng seemed to realize something simultaneously, a chill running down their spines.

“Clink! Clink!” A sudden metallic sound echoed from the kitchen.

Ye Chen and the others looked at one another, then filed in, entering the kitchen.

They immediately saw Mo Feng serving himself a bowl and heading toward the dining table.

On the table sat three or four dishes, along with a bowl of soup.

Ye Chen glanced over the spread, walked over, and served himself a bowl of rice.

Including Bai Long and the others, there were five people in total, gathering around the table.

Silence descended.

Ye Chen looked down at a piece of something pitch-black on the plate before him, unsure what it was, and raised an eyebrow.

Finally, under the gaze of Bai Long and the rest, he picked it up with his chopsticks.

Snap! The chopsticks broke! Utter silence.

Bai Long swallowed hard, eyeing Mo Feng cautiously.

“What is this?” Mo Feng’s expression was blank.

“Winter melon!” “Pfft!” Several of them spat blood.

Just how hard must a winter melon be to shatter wood chopsticks? Ye Chen glanced at another plate, which held a black, burnt, thin circle emitting a charred stench.

He fetched a new pair of chopsticks, managed to tear off a tiny piece with strenuous effort, and popped it into his mouth.

His expression instantly froze.

Bai Long and the others watched, scarcely daring to breathe.

After a long moment, Ye Chen slowly swallowed, his expression returning to its usual coldness.

He waved a hand dismissively.

“Eat.” With that, he lowered his head and began to eat, not reaching for anything else on the table.

“This is edible?” Bai Long looked suspiciously at the plate of blackened circular slices, then asked Mo Feng, “What is this?” “Fried egg.” Mo Feng remained expressionless.

Bai Long glanced at Ye Chen, then cautiously picked up a piece and chewed it tentatively.

Whoosh! The next second, with the speed of a rocket, he bolted into the kitchen sink, vomiting violently.

The hysterical retching suggested he had consumed something more repulsive than earthworms, sending shivers down Zhuge Fan and Yue Heng’s backs, their chopsticks nearly slipping from their numb fingers.

“Gurgle…” Yue Heng swallowed hard, looking at the four plates of blackened ‘dishes.’ All courage to try them had evaporated.

He glanced at the soup, which seemed relatively salvageable, thinking, Surely the liquid is fine? He took a spoonful.

Ptoo! The moment the soup touched his mouth, he spat it out, then instantly rushed into the kitchen, vomiting desperately.

Zhuge Fan watched, cold sweat beading on his brow, his limbs growing icy.

He felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to cry from sheer misery.

...

The midday meal passed by in a rushed haze.

In the afternoon, the group resumed their zombie hunt.

Ye Chen and Mo Feng’s party left the research institute and headed out into the wilderness streets.

Since the ‘Superman Mode’ was still inaccessible, Ye Chen was extremely cautious, leading the others through buildings floor by floor to avoid encountering any powerful monsters in the open streets.

Fortunately, nothing catastrophic occurred that afternoon.

The most dangerous incident involved a zombie dog with the strength of sixty men encountered inside a building.

After a fierce battle, Ye Chen sustained several gashes on his body before finally unleashing the Phantom Blade technique to slay the creature.

Although he had used the Phantom Blade that morning, slightly damaging the meridians in his arm—meaning he couldn't use it again for several days—he did have two arms.

Against the zombie dog, Ye Chen did not use the full Ten Phantom Blades; he only manifested five afterimages before finally dispatching it! With Ye Chen’s participation, the team’s zombie hunting speed increased dramatically.

By the end of the afternoon, they had secured twenty units of Jihua essence—undoubtedly a massive haul! Night fell, the cold moon hanging high.

The group returned to the institute.

Ye Chen rinsed the grime off himself with tap water before turning to enter the living room.

Despite the bountiful harvest of the afternoon, Bai Long and the others were visibly anxious upon their return.

“Who’s cooking tonight?” “What do you think?” “Anyone else, just please not Mo Feng again.” “I agree.” “What a shame Ye Zhu is sick.

I really miss her cooking.” Bai Long and the others sighed, wishing Ye Zhu would wake up immediately.

Ye Chen cleaned up and changed into dry clothes, looking at them strangely.

“You three grown men can’t cook?” Bai Long coughed lightly.

“You know, a handsome and dashing man like myself shouldn't be confined to the kitchen.

It wastes talent, something the nation strictly forbids!” Yue Heng shot him a sidelong glance, choosing to ignore him.

Zhuge Fan whispered, “My mother always cooked for me; I’ve never stepped into a kitchen…” Ye Chen sighed, walking toward the kitchen and tying on an apron.

“What are you doing?” Bai Long and the others became instantly alert.

Ye Chen rolled his eyes.

“Cooking, obviously.

Are we supposed to starve?” “You can cook?” “Impossible, right?” “I have a terrible feeling about this…” The three exchanged suspicious glances.

Ye Chen ignored them, entering the kitchen to clean the stored provisions.

Half an hour later, everything was ready.

“Dinner time!” Ye Chen called out, bringing the dishes to the table, serving himself a bowl of rice, and starting to eat.

Bai Long and the others hurried into the dining room upon hearing him.

They looked at the three dishes and one soup, noting how vibrant and colorful everything was—infinitely better looking than Mo Feng’s black sludge.

They stared at Ye Chen as if he were some sort of marvel.

“Not hungry? Fine, I’ll eat it all.” Ye Chen sped up his pace.

“Damn it!” “Save some for us!” “How could you eat two of those five eggs already?!” The group quickly scrambled for seats and began devouring the food.

Only after eating did they realize Ye Chen’s cooking was even better than Ye Zhu’s.

Tears welled up in their eyes.

Not a single drop of soup or speck of food was left from that meal.

They lay sprawled on the sofa, patting their full stomachs, radiating blissful satisfaction.

Ye Chen began clearing the dishes.

At that moment, Zhuge Fan approached, speaking quietly.

“Let me do this.” Ye Chen waved him off casually.

“No need.” Zhuge Fan paused in silence before saying, “I can’t help with much, but please let me handle these small chores!” Ye Chen looked up at him, his eyes flashing briefly.

He nodded slightly, patted the young man’s shoulder, and walked out of the dining room toward the basement.

Mo Feng joined him there after finishing his meal, busy calibrating something.

Ye Chen walked over, glanced around, and casually asked, “What are you working on?” “Research,” Mo Feng’s reply was as terse as ever.

“Researching what?” “De—” “De-what?” “Virus.” Ye Chen looked at him.

“You haven’t given up yet?” Mo Feng shook his head.

—This was no longer about abandoning a single experiment; it was about abandoning all of humanity! Ye Chen asked no further questions.

He pointed to the Jihua essence in the massive test tube nearby.

“When can all of this be refined into gene serum?” Mo Feng replied, “Tonight.” Ye Chen nodded.

Once the essence collected over these past few days was refined, it could be distributed, allowing everyone to advance.