Heart Fire Burns, Gene Gap!

"This nutrient paste has no nutrition at all. It just fools your stomach. If you drink it every day, you'll eventually develop a deficiency."

After taking the five coins, Uncle Dong shook his head, pulled out a small stool, and sat down across from Cheng Ye.

"Your father left you quite a bit of savings, and now you're an Inspector too. Why bother torturing yourself? The Big Meat Canteen next door smells amazing, doesn't it?"

"Big Meat Canteen?"

Cheng Ye shuddered, unpleasant memories flashing through his mind.

When he first transmigrated here, he'd actually been fooled by the name and walked in. But the moment he saw the menu, he'd rushed out without a second's hesitation.

Big Meat was what Xingfu City residents affectionately called 'roaches.'

A whole plate of Big Meat sandwiched between Board Candy—supposedly it crunched when you bit into it and burst with juice!

But Cheng Ye had decided that unless his life depended on it, he'd eat as little of that stuff as possible, preferably none at all.

For protein, the nutrient paste extracted plant protein. The absorption efficiency was poor, but at least it was an alternative.

"I can't get used to it. This is better."

"True. After all, you grew up in the Inner City. Even the worst food there was synthetic meat."

Uncle Dong's wrinkled eyes narrowed as he watched Cheng Ye crunch on the Board Candy, a hint of emotion in his voice.

"When you first came out, you were crying and carrying on, wanting to die. I never thought you'd adapt so fast. In just two months, you've got some of your father's bearing."

"Circumstances force a man to change. I had no choice. My father pushed himself back then too."

Cheng Ye shrugged, putting on a relaxed front.

Ever since arriving in this world and familiarizing himself with the environment, he'd never let his guard down. Even in front of people he knew, he refused to show weakness.

After all, in this cannibalistic wasteland, you never knew if the person beside you would be the one to stab you in the back next second.

The two chatted idly.

The sun gradually slanted westward. When the last sliver of light was swallowed by the horizon, the Defense Communicator suddenly buzzed.

[Liu Bi: Same place. Got a surprise.]

"Brother B's calling me. I'm heading out, Uncle Dong."

"Take care."

Pulling the pendant from around his neck and fastening it on, Cheng Ye hurried off, crossing two blocks to the main road and boarding the only bus in the Buffer Zone.

This route connected the east and west ends, spanning the entire Buffer Zone.

Since it was a trolleybus, it ran for free during the Flood Season, drawing a decent crowd.

He got on at the Electronics Factory Staff Residential Area stop and got off at the Training Ground stop.

Cheng Ye stepped out and steadied himself.

The air was thick with the smell of Gunsmoke. In the distance, the Vegetable Greenhouse-shaped Training Ground had already lit up.

Not far from the bus stop, a scruffy, iron-tower of a man in a Tactical Vest waved.

Cheng Ye couldn't help but smile.

If there was anyone in Xingfu City he could trust, it was the man before him—"Brother B," Liu Bi.

As a comrade who'd fought through life and death with Cheng Long, Liu Bi had been sent out by Cheng Long's desperate efforts during their last Field Mission. Cheng Long had also entrusted his only son to this Rough Guy.

"I haven't even told you what the surprise is today, and you're already smiling that wide?"

When they met, Liu Bi looked puzzled.

"Did someone tip you off?"

"Huh?"

"No idea? Then what are you grinning about?"

Liu Bi clicked his tongue, pulled a small half-bag of blackened Jerky from his pocket, and waved it in front of Cheng Ye. "Synthetic meat smuggled out of the Inner City. I know you can't stomach Big Meat, so I got this special for you."

"Don't be polite with me. I don't want to have to tell Old Cheng later that his son starved to death."

"Thanks, B." Cheng Ye didn't refuse. Favors like this—if he came back alive from his Field Mission, he'd have plenty of chances to repay. If he was unlucky and died out there, debts died with the man. Consider it Cheng Long covering the tab.

He took the Jerky neatly, pulled out a strip, and chewed it slowly. His tongue caught a faint hint of beef flavor.

Synthetic meat had the word 'meat' in it, but it was actually plant protein, just seasoned with a bit of Beef Powder for taste.

The rich folks in the Inner City wouldn't touch this stuff, but in the Buffer Zone, it was a top-tier delicacy.

"Also, from today until your Field Mission, you get a hundred free bullets every day."

"What's going on?"

"Don't be surprised. Old Ding approved it. That bastard Halin and his crew have been getting bolder lately, openly taking bribes from Survivors before letting them through. Old Ding's been stewing with anger. Next mission, he's probably going to get serious. Might be a lot of deaths."

Mentioning the struggle between the East and West Factions, Liu Bi's expression turned grim.

Apart from when they united to protect the Inspectors' interests, the East and West were constantly at odds.

This was exactly what the High Level of Xingfu City wanted to see. After all, the Checkpoint still held some power. If there was only one voice, managing things would inevitably become troublesome.

This is fine for now. The Easterners, led by Ding Yishan, and the Westerners, led by Halin, are locked in an endless struggle—every casual word from the High Level is treated by both men like a decree from the Old Era.

"Upgrading field mission protocols? Doesn't that mean I'm screwed?"

Cheng Ye's face went pale.

Even standard field missions were deadly enough; if the protocols were raised any further, he'd be dragged straight into the factional struggle.

"Relax, I've got your back. I'll make sure you die after everyone else."

That promise sounded heartwarming, but it only drained the last shred of security Cheng Ye had left.

So much so that once he stepped into the training ground, he quickly slipped into a Highly Focused Learning State.

Draw, fire, shoot.

A hundred rounds were spent in no time. Compared to a while ago, Cheng Ye's performance on the 25-meter pistol target had improved to a 10-round rapid fire with a shot group spread of about fifteen centimeters—roughly a 6 to 8 ring score.

That result wouldn't be bad in the modern era; it could even qualify as an Amateur Proficient Shooter.

But in the wasteland, it only earned him a "not bad" from Liu Bi.

"You're smart—way quicker at learning than most. You can mimic my stance and get it to fifty or sixty percent in no time. But shooting doesn't need that much brains. Being a little dumber actually makes it easier. Take recoil absorption, for example—you always subconsciously try to predict it, thinking you can calculate the Ballistic Parabola."

"But a dumbass like me," Liu Bi suddenly drew his pistol and rattled off ten shots in a burst, "I just slam all my strength into the grip the instant I pull the trigger, like ramming a pile driver into the ground to bury the recoil."

Cheng Ye stared at the holes in the target, his pupils shrinking. The ten shots were clustered within five centimeters at most—basically all tens, Olympic-level in the modern era.

But he'd already copied Liu Bi's stance and firing technique. Why was the gap still so huge?

"You know why Old Ding never hands the big merit jobs to Halin's bunch of smart guys?"

Liu Bi suddenly lowered his voice. "Two months ago in the Old City District, three young kids all got their heads cracked open by a Tentacle Monster that spat Acidic Liquid. That freak didn't follow any of the rules they'd figured out for development or attack patterns."

Then he yanked open his Tactical Vest, revealing a vicious Claw Mark over his heart. "And this scar—I took it for your old man. We both calculated that the Infected couldn't hear gunfire, but that bastard just had sharp ears. Tell me, are the rules of this wasteland made for people who write formulas?"

"What should I do?"

"Forget technique. Don't use your brain. Let your muscles remember the impact of the recoil—it's ten thousand times more useful than memorizing a parabola with your head."

Easy to say, hard to do.

Cheng Ye nodded woodenly. He didn't know if he'd ever master Liu Bi's method.

But he understood one thing: until he completed a field mission and survived long enough to shake his fear of the wasteland, he absolutely couldn't abandon reason and turn into a brainless brute.

Because the only thing he could rely on was his mind.

"Shooting's done. Next up, Close Combat."

A flurry of thuds rang out as Cheng Ye attacked and Liu Bi defended.

A fire burned in Cheng Ye's chest. He threw wild punches and kicks like a madman, but couldn't even break through Liu Bi's guard.

If it weren't for his pride, Cheng Ye suspected Liu Bi could take every hit one-handed without breaking a sweat.

This damn brute. This damn wasteland!

Soon, Cheng Ye was panting, completely spent. Only then did Liu Bi shout for a stop.

"Progress. I can feel your anger. That's right—let anger take over your body in a fight, not that useless reason!"

"Treat me like your enemy. Bite me, kill me—that's how you improve!"

Everything was brute-force theory.

Cheng Ye didn't argue. He'd long realized the Gene Gap. Modern humans and Wastelanders had taken completely opposite paths in Gene Development.

The former were good at thinking and dealing with people.

The latter excelled at fighting and having heart-to-heart talks with Infected.

For example, he could Elicit Information from Survivors in the Quarantine Zone after just two months, while Liu Bi had been at it for over a decade and still wasn't smooth at it.

The original body's Combat Gene was pitifully weak. Compared to Liu Bi, he was a pure academic failure. To close the Gene Gap, there was only one way: work, and work harder!

"Training's over for today. Rest well tonight. I'll take the morning shift off for you."

Casually taking leave was one of the perks of the Iron Rice Bowl.

Liu Bi's home was further east in the Fertilizer Plant Staff Residential Area. They parted at the Bus Stop, boarding buses heading in opposite directions.

The street view outside the window began to blur backward, but Cheng Ye felt the nameless fire in his chest still burning—and burning hotter!

The helplessness of two hands losing to one made him constantly imagine: what if an Infected had Combat Power like Liu Bi's?

Surrender?

No. I have to survive. I have to go home. I can't die nameless in this wasteland.

Get stronger.

I want to get stronger!

I have to get stronger!

Countless voices screamed inside Cheng Ye's heart, making him clench the pendant hanging around his neck without thinking.

After tonight, the collector would activate.

Waste Pastry, since you've brought me to this wasteland, at least do something useful!

The contract should be signed today, so any Reader Lords who haven't invested yet, hurry up.

A brand-new wasteland story—I hope to earn your approval.

During the new book period, I'm tentatively setting two chapters per day: one at 8 AM and one at 6 PM, totaling around six thousand words.

A new book isn't easy, Reader Lords—please don't let it sit on the shelf. Your Follow-up Reading, Votes, and collections really mean a lot to me.

I'm kowtowing here~!