Food and Adaptation

Chapter 3: Food and Adaptation

The mega-building was located in Night City's Watson District, and with a little recollection, information about Watson District surfaced in Carl's mind.

Watson District: Once an industrial area, Watson District boasted skyscrapers, nightclubs, corporate buildings, top-tier medical centers, and a bustling food street. It was supposed to be the heart of Night City until the financial crisis destroyed everything. Today, Watson District is the poorest district in Night City, with the two most vicious gangs, the Tiger Claws and the Maelstrom, entrenched in its slums.

NCPD Danger Level Assessment: Extremely Dangerous.

NCPD, short for 'Night City Police Department,' obviously meant the Night City Police Department. Clearly, where Carl was now was an extremely dangerous place, even for the police.

To end up in a place like this right after transmigrating... is that actually good luck?

After all, Carl was a bit hungry right now, and there were several food stalls right in front of him, with signs indicating familiar East Asian cuisine.

It made sense, considering that Carl was currently in Little China.

[Little China was once an extension of the city center, planned as the second city center during the reconstruction of Night City. Corporations also developed this area, and in the 1940s, a large number of East Asian immigrants, mainly Chinese, flocked here, hence the name 'Little China.' But as Watson District was abandoned, it also became a impoverished area in Night City.]

Walking up to the owner of the stall, Carl glanced at the worn-out cushions, revealing yellowish-brown foam. His gaze swept over the greasy surface, still stained with bits of food residue. After a bit of searching, he finally found a relatively clean seat and sat down.

Other customers were sitting on the other side of the food stall. The owner was busy preparing food for them, but still managed to say to Carl in between: "The menu's on the screen, guest. Just tell me what you want when you're ready."

Following the direction of the owner's greasy finger, Carl saw that the tabletop had been replaced by a glowing display screen. Various foods were listed there with their prices.

Judging from the appearance shown in the pictures, Carl had to admit that the food looked appetizing.

Unfortunately, he happened to know a bit too much, and he understood certain things the moment he saw the food.

In this world, truly fresh, organic food was scarce and only available to the upper class. The ingredients for street food like this came from protein ranches and whole food factories. Artificial meat, hydroponic vegetables, and synthetic spices were the mainstream diet for the people of Night City. As for these things, their raw materials were often wriggling white worms and algae.

Of course, some unregulated food processing plants might add some more palatable ingredients, but don't expect to find rats. In this era, even contaminated rat meat was a rare delicacy that you could brag about the taste of. Not to mention that rats were even rarer than stray corporate dogs on the streets these days.

With images of worms and locusts flashing through his mind, Carl decided that he didn't need to go to such extremes right away, so he focused on the vegetarian options.

Eating algae isn't bad.

He saw Chinese Cold Noodles. From the picture, this food looked the most vegetarian, although real cold noodles were usually made with chicken or beef broth.

The ingredients for making the noodles were trustworthy; it was still wheat. The reason it was wheat and not something weird was simply that wheat was more affordable than other options.

In America, Petrochem was the only company authorized to commercially grow genetically modified wheat. The genetically modified wheat they cultivated was a high-sugar grain that could be catalyzed and fermented to produce CHOOH2. CHOOH2 was a synthetic alcohol, the most standard combustible fuel in the world today. Petrochem and its subsidiaries had millions of acres of farmland in America growing genetically modified wheat. When the harvest was plentiful, there was often a surplus, and this excess wheat would be sold to food factories or, for public relations purposes, donated to impoverished countries in small amounts under the guise of 'humanitarianism.'

Next to Night City, there was Petrochem land, so Night City could have a steady supply of normal wheat to make noodles for food.

I heard this genetically modified wheat tastes delicious. I wonder if it's true.

Carl looked at the price of the dish, which was called Chinese but was actually a traditional Korean noodle dish, and found that it cost three euros.

Considering that this stall was in a poor district and that it was a vegetarian noodle dish, the price was probably cheap compared to other places. But to pay three euros for a meal, it seemed that the euro in this world was different from the euro in his previous life. It had been inflated for many years.

The old three euros were equivalent to about twenty-three yuan in Carl's country, but now it felt like the value of the two was similar.

With new knowledge and information stored in his mind, Carl adapted a little more to this city.

"Boss, I'll have an order of Chinese Cold Noodles."

But just as Carl took out his money, ready to order a bowl of cold noodles to try, an accident, or rather, a daily occurrence in Night City, happened.

"Bang."

Amidst the sound of a Kinetic Pistol firing, the owner's head exploded in front of Carl.

This wasn't some exaggerated description, but a real, literal explosion, with even the skull unable to contain the red and white matter inside.

Splashes of unidentified liquid, along with fragments of skull, landed on Carl's face. Carl blinked, clearing his vision from the flowing blood, and saw the headless corpse, which had turned halfway around upon hearing the shout, collapse to the ground.

"Damn Sixth Street Gang, daring to come to our Maelstrom territory! Grandpa's gonna give your crotch a new eye!"

Amidst the frantic shouts in the distance, Carl saw that the people who had been sitting across from him had already hidden under the stall's tables, their movements so skilled and their reactions so quick that it was astonishing.

Listening to the shouts and gunshots that rang out a hundred meters away, Carl took a second to understand what was happening.

Two gangs had started a shootout, and the stall owner had been accidentally hit by a stray bullet.

If that stray bullet had hit me, my head would have exploded too.

This was really...

"How am I supposed to adapt to this?"

Wiping the blood off his face, Carl gripped his pistol.

Can't even eat in peace. I'll f**k your whole family!