Chapter 84-2: Hunger Tactics (2) |
Though starving, the willpower of the Four-Eyed race exceeded Li Zheng and his group’s expectations.
After three days of high-intensity training without food, Ghost Eye and his people still hadn’t surrendered and continued to act arrogantly.
When night training ended, Li Zheng and the others returned to their room after receiving healing treatment in the medical room.
Exhausted from the day, they shut the door and immediately pulled out their canned rations, devouring them greedily.
In voice chat.
Murderous Intent Rising: Someone check the Trading House, see if any monster meat or spiritual fish is available. At this rate, we won’t be getting enough nutrients.
Dirt Poor: Damn these fishermen, why aren’t they catching anything? Spiritual fish keeps selling out. Why is it so hard to get a bite of meat?
Leopard-Headed F2P: Though we’re exhausted, our body tempering experience has been soaring lately. The gains are pretty decent.
Game Gold-Farmer: These bastards are unbelievable. They claim to be the finest warriors of their generation, I can’t verify that. But I can confirm they’re the most starvation-resistant animals of their generation. Three days of intense training without food, I’m starving after just half a day!
(Bastard, shut up and give it to me! x9)
—
Inside the Four-Eyed race’s room.
The cold wind howled outside, but Ghost Eye and his racial kin lay awake.
Their stomachs rumbled like frogs croaking in a summer field, endlessly echoing.
“Shut up already!” Ghost Eye suddenly sat up, glaring at his racial kin, but his own stomach immediately growled, leaving him embarrassed.
“Big brother, those damn players can really endure hunger. You gotta think of something, I don’t think I can handle tomorrow’s training if this keeps up.”
“We endure, even if their racial talent is related to starvation resistance. As Four-Eyed warriors, we will never yield.”
Saying this, Ghost Eye glanced at one of his racial kin.
“Ling, were you trying to sneak some food during tonight’s brawl?”
The named Four-Eyed trainee looked guilty.
During the dinner brawl, he had tried to sneak a bite of fish before the fight broke out, but a flying player freshman had kicked him to the ground before he could even taste it.
“Don’t let me catch you surrendering again. Since the players initiated the challenge, we’ll fight bravely. If they don’t eat, we don’t eat.”
“Understood, big brother.”
“Sleep.”
With that, Ghost Eye lay back down and closed his eyes.
But the rumbling ‘frog chorus’ of stomachs never ceased. Eventually, exhaustion overcame them, and the Four-Eyed race finally drifted off to sleep.
The next morning.
After morning drills, everyone entered the cafeteria.
Though mentally prepared, seeing Li Zheng lead the player race charging in with arrogant grins, the Four-Eyed race had clearly lost their previous confidence.
The other races buried their heads in their food, shoveling it down as fast as they could, afraid to miss even a bite.
In their eyes, both the players and the Four-Eyed race were animals. Their bullying had affected all new trainees. Except for the first day, they hadn’t let anyone have a proper meal ever since.
To speed up their eating, no one dared to look up. The sound of fists landing on flesh nearby made their hearts race as if they were being hit themselves.
Truthfully, many trainees weren’t afraid of fighting. Some even enjoyed it. But they feared hunger.
High-intensity training required ample nutrition. They needed to consume large amounts of spiritual food to replenish their bodies.
The cafeteria’s 15-minute mealtime was normally enough to meet energy needs, but the players and Four-Eyed race had shortened it to under five minutes, sometimes even as little as three.
If they didn’t eat fast enough, they’d get dragged into the brawl. If you didn’t join in, you got beaten instead.
By now, no one dared sit at the tables near the center where the food was served. Everyone crammed into the corners.
In the eyes of the new generation, the center of the cafeteria had become an extreme danger zone. Sitting there meant giving up your meal entirely.
While they scarfed down food, Family-Sharing Stepdad was suddenly thrown by two Four-Eyed trainees into the corner.
Hearing the rush of air, all the other races had the same thought: these bastards were causing trouble again.
Everyone instantly sped up their eating.
Smack!
Family-Sharing Stepdad crashed onto a corner table, shouting “Ouch!” while rolling on the floor.
Seeing the trays kicked over, the other races didn’t hesitate. They grabbed Family-Sharing Stepdad and rained down punches on his head.
The full-scale brawl exploded.
Players fought the Four-Eyed race.
The Four-Eyed race beat the Brass race.
The Brass race attacked the players.
The Night Hawk race pummeled the Four-Eyed race.
The fight spiraled completely out of control. Every race went berserk, as long as you weren’t one of their own, they’d beat you senseless.
Watching trays fly across the cafeteria, Mad Sand stood at the door and took a deep breath.
This class of trainees was by far the most chaotic he’d ever seen.
In previous generations, there had been troublemakers, cliques forming and brawls breaking out at every opportunity.
Strength and weakness were determined through repeated group fights.
For example, in Broken Star’s class, he had led his people in a fierce rivalry against the Great Nether race, constantly brawling with them.
Eventually, Broken Star crushed the Great Nether race, emerging as the strongest of that class, and entered the second phase of training with overwhelming dominance.
But this level of chaos was unprecedented for Mad Sand.
The addition of the player race was like dropping a catfish into still waters, stirring the cafeteria into complete disorder.
Of all places to fight, they insisted on brawling in the cafeteria, deliberately exploiting the 15-minute meal limit to starve the entire new generation.
The Four-Eyed race especially had been starved until their eyes turned bloodshot.
Last night during night training, if he hadn’t been watching, Mad Sand had no doubt the Four-Eyed race freshmen would have rushed over to gnaw on roadside trees.
Without looking any further, Mad Sand turned and left.
As long as no taboos were violated, he would not intervene no matter how much the new generation of trainees fought.
Whether they ate their fill was not part of his concern.
He had only one demand: the training must continue. Even if they were starving, they still had to complete every training course.
That said, this was indeed the most hunger-resistant group he had ever seen.
Willingly or not, they were the only class that could continue training on empty stomachs.
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