Chapter 140
The mercenaries living in District 13 were a mix of the elderly, disabled, and retired—down on their luck now, but every one of them had once been heroes who fought desperately to protect the Eastern Base.
Take Liang Mingchun, their leader—a B-rank healer, once one of the base’s top-tier support mercenaries. On any battlefield she was present, zero casualties occurred. The lives she’d saved numbered in the thousands; calling her the guardian angel of mercenaries wouldn’t be an exaggeration.
But during a mission to exterminate an A-rank mutant, her energy core had suffered permanent damage, rendering her unable to fight ever again.
Most of the retired mercs in District 13 were like Liang Mingchun—disabled, core-damaged, or simply too old for combat.
Back when Mu Dongsheng was still around, these veterans had been treated with respect and given preferential care, allowed to recuperate under his protection.
But the moment Mu Dongsheng was gone, Li Zhou and the base’s higher-ups had shown their true colors, driving these veterans to their deaths by forcing them onto high-risk missions despite their conditions.
“If they could just get their hands on core-recovery serums, they might have a chance,” one mercenary muttered bitterly. “But Li Zhou and his lackeys are determined to wipe out every last one of Mu Dongsheng’s former allies…”
The sounds of the District 13 veterans fighting desperately against the mutants in the distance made many unable to bear looking.
What was there to see?
Just a group of old soldiers who had given their all for the Eastern Base, squeezed dry of their last scraps of usefulness before being torn apart by the claws of mutants…
The other mercenaries wanted to help, but they could barely protect themselves, let alone intervene. And if they did step in to shield the District 13 mercs, they’d face even worse retaliation from Li Zhou’s faction upon returning to the base.
Times like these made the injustice of the world sting all the more.
Listening to the distant explosions and shouts, Zhang Zhuoran’s eyes reddened as he clenched his fists.
Back when he was a rookie, it had been Liang Mingchun—then a B-rank mercenary—who’d protected him with her abilities. Without her, he’d have died in the wilds a decade ago. Now, he could only watch helplessly as his savior marched to her death.
He hated how powerless he was…
Then, out of nowhere, someone yelled:
“HOLY SHIT—THEY—THEY WON??!!!”
W-Won?
Silence fell over the group behind cover.
The next second, Zhang Zhuoran’s eyes widened as he grabbed the speaker’s shoulders. “Won? Who won? The mutants, or—?”
“Brother Zhang, look for yourself!” The man was practically vibrating with excitement, pointing into the distance. “The District 13 veterans won! They took down ten B-rank mutants and are looting the remains now!”
For a moment, Zhang Zhuoran thought he was being lied to.
Because… how was that possible?
District 13 had around seventy veterans, the highest among them only B-rank—and nearly all of them were disabled. With no access to nutrient solutions or recovery serums, their cores were practically running on empty.
Ten B-rank mutants? Forget seventy retired, disabled mercenaries—even seventy peak-condition C-rank mercs would struggle to pull that off!
The mercenaries behind cover burst into hushed, disbelieving chatter:
“H-How…?”
“No way—they actually won! Look, they’ve already extracted all ten mutant cores…”
“Not only did they win, but they didn’t lose a single person! Aside from a few injuries, everyone made it!”
“Isn’t that Liang Mingchun, the former B-rank? I thought her core was damaged, but she solo-killed a B-rank mutant and healed all the wounded—that’s not the power of a depleted core, that’s peak performance!”
“And look at them—they’re all so relaxed…”
Like the others, Zhang Zhuoran urgently turned to look.
In his mind, even if the District 13 veterans had somehow defeated the mutants, it should’ve been a desperate, narrow victory—everyone collapsing in exhaustion afterward, needing ages to recover.
But the reality was nothing like he’d imagined!
—The massive corpses of the ten mutants had been thoroughly dismantled, their cores extracted before the remains dissolved away.
And at the center of it all stood Liang Mingchun and the other mercenaries—bearing minor cuts and bruises, but otherwise in shockingly good spirits, chatting and laughing like they’d just returned from a picnic rather than a life-or-death battle.
Just… how?
A huge question mark loomed in the minds of the onlooking mercenaries.
Had someone secretly pulled strings to get the District 13 veterans expensive recovery serums? But that was impossible—under Li Zhou’s watch, no one would dare openly assist Mu Dongsheng’s former allies unless they had a death wish.
Besides, many had seen the veterans just yesterday.
“When I ran into Liang Mingchun in the residential zone yesterday, her core was still depleted. She looked completely drained,” one mercenary muttered. “She came to our squad on behalf of District 13 to say goodbye, telling us they probably wouldn’t make it back from this mission. We cried for hours afterward…”
Who could’ve imagined that overnight, the entire District 13 crew would seem like completely different people?
Ten B-rank mutants that would give even seasoned mercenaries trouble—and they’d wiped them out effortlessly, like it was nothing.
The mercenaries stared in shock and suspicion, some pinching their thighs to check if they were dreaming.
“…”
The ruined shelter where Zhang Zhuoran’s squad had taken cover was one of the few safe zones outside the base. As long as a barrier was deployed here, mutants wouldn’t attack for a short time.
Because of this, many squads used it as a rest stop.
Soon, after mopping up the remains of the ten mutants, Liang Mingchun and her group walked over to the shelter, chatting and laughing. They activated a barrier to temporarily block mutant detection and began eating lunch.
Though Zhang Zhuoran’s squad didn’t say anything out loud, the moment the veterans entered, every ear perked up, trying to figure out the secret behind District 13’s sudden transformation.
…And then, something even more shocking happened.
The District 13 veterans sat cross-legged on the ground and—
—pulled out takeout containers from their coats, each holding a bowl of porridge!
Zhang Zhuoran’s eyes bulged as he exchanged stunned glances with his comrades:
“They’re having porridge for lunch?! That’s way too luxurious!”
“And that porridge looks so weird—not red or green. Did they not add any flavor enhancers?”
“Wait, how is a single bowl of porridge enough to sustain their stamina? And where’d they get the credits to buy it? Didn’t Li Zhou ban them from Black Market Zone A?”
Since mercenary missions were dangerous and time-sensitive, most just chugged nutrient solutions for meals outdoors. If they wanted something hot, they could always feast in the black market after the mission.
Nutrient solutions might taste like nothing, but they were filling, quickly replenished energy, and the pricier ones even had core-recovery effects—making them the ideal choice for field missions.
In all these years, no one had ever seen mercenaries eating porridge outside the base. It was just too inefficient…
Zhang Zhuoran and his squad gaped at the District 13 veterans.
The veterans held their bowls, reheating the porridge with their abilities until a natural aroma of rice and savory century egg and pork porridge wafted through the air—subtle but comforting.
Looking at their porridge, then at his own tasteless nutrient solution, Zhang Zhuoran felt an inexplicable pang of envy.
But soon, envy was the least of his emotions.
—While the others might not have noticed, as a sensory-enhanced ability user, he was the first to realize:
The moment the District 13 veterans swallowed that porridge, a pure, potent energy flowed through their bodies, converging at their core—fully restoring their depleted energy reserves to peak condition!
“HOLY SHT?!”
Zhang Zhuoran’s hand trembled violently, nearly dropping his nutrient solution as he staggered back.
For a second, he thought he was hallucinating.
But no matter how hard he stared, the truth remained undeniable.
—That simple bowl of porridge had repaired the veterans’ nearly dried-up cores!
A nearby mercenary rushed to steady him. “Brother Zhang, you okay? Why’d you trip over nothing?”
Zhang Zhuoran forced composure, waving them off. It took him a long moment to calm his racing heart.
He’d just stumbled upon an earth-shattering secret…
If he wasn’t hallucinating, then he’d just uncovered the secret behind how this group of disabled, retired veterans had taken down ten B-rank mutants.
—It was the porridge!
For the next half hour, Zhang Zhuoran was too distracted to focus on his mission. Pouring all his energy into enhancing his hearing, he finally caught fragments of conversation from the veterans nearby.
“Black Market… Zone F… Simple Porridge Stall.”
Zhang Zhuoran silently repeated these keywords, his resolve hardening.
Once the mission ended today, no matter what, he had to investigate that stall!
…Similar scenes played out in countless corners both inside and outside the base.
Including the 11th Squad and the District 13 veterans, over eighty people had bought Jian Yunlan’s porridge the day before—and many had taken an extra portion for their missions.
With their abilities, reheating porridge was trivial, and they hadn’t bothered hiding it.
As a result, many sensory-enhanced mercenaries like Zhang Zhuoran discovered the porridge’s miraculous core-repairing effects and learned its origin from the diners.
And so…
Within just half a day, the words Simple Porridge Stall had quietly spread throughout the Eastern Base!
So the other mercenaries going be so hungry that Jian Yunlan’s plain simple porridge tasting going blow out their minds that simple ingredients can repair cores!