Dream Delivery System: My Delivery Jobs Keep Changing History – CH70

Chapter 70

The healed fantastical beasts began cleaning their little nest.

Each had their own abilities and were familiar with each other, coordinating seamlessly. Before long, the area was spotless, even carrying a faint floral scent—from the plant-type beasts.

When everything was done, the beasts crowded around Jiang Jitang, big and small alike, looking up as if waiting for his praise.

“Excellent! Amazing! You’ve done so well—far beyond what I imagined!”

Jiang Jitang encouraged the beasts while silently calling to his system.

‘System, can points be exchanged for candy?’

After the first feeding, he had intentionally stored some snacks in the tasker’s backpack, but with so many beasts present, there wasn’t enough in the backpack.

The bubble interface didn’t answer but searched through thousands of items to find what he needed: candy, pastries, and even bottled drinks.

All of these fell under the “snack” category and could be used.

‘Thanks.’

The bubble interface slowly disappeared.

The cleaned abandoned factory finally revealed its original appearance: rusty metal roofing above, broken cement walls below, though the floor was still fairly intact and flat.

Finding a suitable spot, Jiang Jitang set up a small boxing ring—three meters by three meters, with taut railings on all sides, a red platform, and two boxing glove patterns.

He hopped on it himself and felt it was stable.

Punch Frog below stared in awe, its eyes shining like it had seen its dream lover. “Panpan.”

The boxing ring was set. A freestanding punching bag, a home pull-up bar, and other training equipment were arranged beside it. Smaller items were kept in a cardboard box for Punch Frog to use as needed.

Also included were a stationary bike from Boss Qian and other small gadgets.

“If Punch Frog wants, everyone can play with these,” Jiang Jitang said, demonstrating a few things.

Of course, Punch Frog was eager. Several sub-adult beasts immediately snatched up the small items, chasing and laughing as they played.

As for the adults…

Jealous, maintaining their “I’m already grown-up” stance, they drooled almost visibly: humph, I’m not envious.

The last box was for Punch Frog.

“This is a boxing set for you—headgear, gloves, and shoes.” Though even an evolved Punch Frog couldn’t use the largest size, Jiang Jitang left all three sets.

“This is a little gift from me.” He also pulled out a boxing uniform adapted from an adult sports vest. “May you start strong and achieve your dreams.”

“Panpan.” Tears streamed down the frog’s face as it held the uniform in its hands.

“Panpan, waah, Panpan.”

Jiang Jitang listened carefully.

‘I was once a beast with a master. Because of my talent, my master wanted to train me into a top boxer among beasts. But I failed—so badly that even seeing a stage made me fearful. A boxer who fears the stage is useless. Soon after, my master gave up on me, a beast destined to be useless.’

Punch Frog had kept this secret until now.

“Panpan.” It looked at Maitian, then Jiang Jitang, and slowly bowed.

‘I had given up, but seeing someone work so hard to care for a beast like me—useless and unable to form a contract—I wanted to try again for this person.

‘Thank you. I will stand on that stage again.’

Without a mind link, Maitian understood. He didn’t cry, holding back tightly.

Being so cherished by Punch Frog, he must be the luckiest human in the world.

“You’re amazing. One failure is nothing—you’ll crush success next time.” Jiang Jitang patted its head and drew a symbol on the back of its hand, pretending to study it carefully before nodding.

“I just tried to make a prediction for you. There are risks, but as long as you chase your original dream, you will achieve it.”

“Panpan.” That was wonderful.

The frog’s eyes sparkled like stars, without doubt.

Jiang Jitang smiled. His astrology was mediocre—he couldn’t truly predict such a detailed future—but the beasts didn’t know that. Deception was his specialty, and beasts were no exception.

“The person who prepared these tools is a human who loves boxing. He put all his passion into these gifts for you. You will succeed, Punch Frog.”

Seeing the frog about to cry again, Jiang Jitang interrupted: “Everything’s set up. While we have time, let’s watch some analysis of human boxing matches.”

He snapped his fingers. A two-meter-long white screen unrolled in midair, and a projector appeared.

All camping lamps were turned off. Light and shadow flowed across the screen. A fit, powerful boxer tried on gloves, slowly looking at the camera.

Ambition burned, fighting spirit fierce.

Punch Frog’s reddish-brown eyes lit up.

“Panpan.” Its gaze was more determined than ever.

It too was going to its battlefield.

The glowing screen attracted countless beasts. The man who brought it all walked into the darkness. Maitian quietly followed and saw him drawing on the ground with a glowing line—momentary, fleeting.

“What are you doing?” Maitian asked quietly.

Jiang Jitang slightly turned, half his face in shadow: “Drawing a cage. If anyone approaches with malice, they won’t return.”

A chill ran up Maitian’s spine. “You…”

“Just kidding,” Jiang Jitang laughed, harmlessly. “I’m not a madman—I won’t kill anyone.”

“…Help me.”

Five hours passed too quickly. There was barely time to say goodbye before leaving. The beasts’ desperate pleas lingered in their fingertips, but everything was settled.

If you can’t take them all, take none. Bringing even one beast into an unfamiliar world without companions might not be good. It’s better they live well in a familiar place, undisturbed.

“Can there be medicine to heal beasts?”

Jiang Jitang didn’t hear a system reply but seemed to understand: “I get it.”

These beasts were only a tiny portion. There were many such tiny portions in the beast world. One rescue wouldn’t suffice—it required sustained support, which one person alone couldn’t provide.

“At least I gave my all for this task.” Otherwise, he would have been left with regret.

—

The clock now pointed to 8:30.

Returning from the task world, Jiang Jitang didn’t even sit. He shouldered his bag and left. He had an appointment with Chef Ding to sit in on a class.

If the effect was good, he might continue auditing classes.

In the afternoon, he had to learn helicopter piloting—both simulator and real practice. The license required flight hours, and he was determined to obtain it.

Around four, he had shooting lessons—a high-utility skill. Long-range magic was still unreliable; he wasn’t strong in close combat.

Life after graduation seemed busier and more fulfilling than school.

Chef Ding warmly welcomed him and allowed him to try during class, preparing to guide him where improvement was needed.

It was just an experience class—before teaching, Ding thought that.

But Jiang Jitang absorbed everything like a sponge. His eyes, ears, muscles—all coordinated perfectly, copying Ding’s movements without error.

Nothing to improve—he had learned it all.

Chef Ding realized for the first time what a “monster” was.

“Does Ms. Jiang perform the same way?”

This terrifying execution and body control were a nightmare for competitors. Ding understood why Jiang Sujin could dominate international culinary competitions.

Others competed, while she absorbed knowledge like a sponge.

Techniques that took ordinary chefs years to master could be copied by this genius in half a day.

Chef Ding’s students were demoralized; many were mid-aged, with ten or more years of training under their belts.

“Compared to my mother, I still fall short. She can taste things I can’t. I only imitate, she innovates—so I can’t become a top chef.”

Chef Ding was speechless.

Innovation is the domain of top chefs. Jiang Jitang had talent, but thinking back, all his years—from apprentice to chef abroad—may have led to this: competing internationally and showcasing genius-level skill like Jiang Sujin.

The realization was overwhelming, but Chef Ding quickly regained his spirit.

A genius opponent is intimidating, but as a student, he was irresistible—perfect execution, precise operation, photographic memory, proactive and passionate.

This is what smooth teaching is.

“Even without innovation, let’s see how far you can go.” Chef Ding brought out bread-making tools. “I started with bread, and it’s my specialty. Time is limited. I’ll teach you dough kneading and differences between breads. I’ll say each step once—remember it.”

“Understood,” Jiang Jitang replied.

The forgotten students: …

—

After a morning of study, Jiang Jitang left with a large bag of bread, Chef Ding’s notes, and an invitation.

Chef Ding had introduced another chef skilled in traditional C-Nation pastries.

Watching Jiang Jitang leave, Chef Ding told the person on the phone: “Show your best. Even the hardest techniques, this young man will replicate in three tries. I’ve never taught like this—want to try?”

Jiang Jitang didn’t know the retired chef alliance was watching. He was pondering how to eat all the bread without losing quality in the fridge.

“I want to try the pumpkin bread again.”

In the virtual kitchen, Jiang Jitang applied his newly learned skills, adjusting dough handling and filling proportions.

[Successfully made ‘Pumpkin Bread,’ two-star. Traits: Satiety +5, Health +3, dispels negative body effects for 30 minutes. Shelf life: 72 hours at room temperature, six hours after opening.]

[Detected existing pumpkin bread recipe—replace original?]

Compared to one-star pumpkin bread, the two-star version improved traits—negative effect mitigation became dispelling, but nothing else fundamentally changed.

Could this be the ceiling for pumpkin bread?

He saved the recipe; the two-star replaced the one-star.

Ingredients were ready: 891 one-star luncheon meat sandwiches and wontons, 1782 two-star pumpkin breads—occupying two vending machines.

Pumpkin bread price could now be set: 80 yuan each.

In the university food court, the three foods appeared in the machines. Luncheon meat sandwiches and wontons had 51 portions each; pumpkin bread increased to 80 each.

Two groups of guards at the door acted like sharp hunting dogs, clearing the area as soon as the goods appeared.

Official buyers were strong men; the Sun Glory Organization only grabbed 50 sandwiches and 50 pumpkin breads before being shoved out—they had max purchase limits of 50.

“Move, move! I’m next!”

Zhao Jianming of Sun Glory was furious, demanding Jiang Jitang explain: “Look at this—everyone rushes, like starving wolves, leaving no scraps—is that fair?”

Jiang Jitang checked the backend: each two-star pumpkin bread earned him two points.

“Boss, you won’t take pre-orders? I can pay triple, even quintuple.”

“Inconvenient.”

Not only no convenience, Jiang Jitang planned more competition for Sun Glory. Fighting for food makes it tastier; more customers help the store grow. Allowing three days of stockpiling was already insider treatment.

He also informed Minister Jiang: the store needed more customers and transactions. She understood.

He never planned to develop covertly—too inefficient. The Cube World would exist only seven years, maybe less. He had to seize the opportunity.

Official buyers, expert organizations, casual people—he wanted them all.

If pre-sale vending machines appeared, official buyers would be first; extra as VIP perks.

If Sun Glory didn’t fall out with him, they’d also be VIP.

“Will there be new products after the extra wonton?” Zhao Jianming asked timidly.

“Yes, rest assured.”

Each new product added nearly a thousand portions—always a chance to grab some. Zhao Jianming was satisfied.

“My dad is developing a new luxury community in Jin City. Everything’s approved. Boss, want me to reserve a villa for you? Exclusive, standalone.”

Zhao Jianming paused, nervously adding: “Dad doesn’t want me telling anyone, but you’re insider. Hahaha.”

A new luxury community?

Jiang Jitang raised an eyebrow. Zhao Jianming’s dad was a top developer with political connections. Developing a new villa project in third-tier Jin City must be due to insider info. What made Jin City so appealing?

Jiang Jitang briefly considered whether it involved him—but dismissed the idea; he wasn’t famous enough yet.

Unless his external support identity was exposed.

If revealed, wherever he lived, property prices would rise.

Thinking this through quickly, Jiang Jitang acted as if he thought nothing: “Really? If so, reserve one for me, thanks.”

“Of course, of course,” Zhao Jianming grinned ear to ear.

Another step closer to the “Jiang Daddy” relationship today. Yay! Thank you, Daddy!