Never Strike Out

A strong fishy stench burrowed into Liu Zheng's nostrils.

In a daze, he seemed to see an enormous Salmon lunging at him.

Liu Zheng instinctively raised his tentacles to block it, only to find that he was somehow holding a harpoon.

"Harpoon it."

A voice reminded him.

He took a deep breath and drove the harpoon into the Salmon's head.

Grayish-white blood trickled out.

"Ah!"

The Salmon thrashed its tail in pain, letting out a baby's cry.

"Warning: Sanity Value decreasing."

Liu Zheng reached out to grab it, but only caught a clump of cat fur.

"Why are you grabbing me, meow?"

The Calico Cat turned around, looking puzzled.

"Nothing."

He smiled and casually wiped his hand.

The system notification appeared again.

"Player has obtained the 'Never Strike Out' status, lasting for one instance."

"Never Strike Out: Greatly increases fishing success rate and improves resistance to sanity pollution from fish."

Well damn, fishing fanatics would go wild over that.

Although he had lost Sanity Value, Liu Zheng felt it was worth it.

There might not be an opportunity to fish right now, but that did not mean there would not be one later.

Besides, plenty of delivery orders included fish dishes.

With this status, he would not have to worry about losing san again.

After washing a few more baskets of vegetables, Liu Zheng was called over by the White-Feather Chicken.

"Come taste the food."

It scooped up a spoonful of soup and handed it to Liu Zheng.

The soup was slightly yellow and thick. Several thin black lines swam through it, complete with heads and tails.

"My sense of taste is gone. My boss knows about it."

He hurriedly said.

"That is true."

Cow-Horse nodded.

"Stop pretending. Your sense of taste has already recovered."

The White-Feather Chicken exposed his lie.

With his high physique and Flesh Rebirth, Liu Zheng's sense of taste had recovered that very morning.

"But I don't know how to judge food."

He tried to struggle one last time.

Even without a system notification, one look was enough to tell him this soup was not anything normal.

"The customer is human, so I can't get a good read on it."

The White-Feather Chicken admitted frankly.

"Then you could let—"

Liu Zheng looked around and found himself staring at a crowd of freaks.

"Ugh."

Resigned to his fate, he took the spoon and shoved it into his mouth.

"What does it taste like?"

the White-Feather Chicken asked.

"Spicy."

Liu Zheng grimaced.

"Mm, what else?"

The White-Feather Chicken pulled out a small notebook and wrote it down.

"Sour."

Drool streamed uncontrollably from his mouth, trailing in strings toward the ground.

"What else?"

"Numbing."

He spoke with a thick tongue, his head buzzing.

"What else?"

The White-Feather Chicken pressed on.

"A little salty, and there's this indescribable fishy taste."

"William, add two sprigs of rosemary and a small handful of bay leaves. Then toss in two Salt Leeches to soak up the salt. Three seconds will be enough."

The White-Feather Chicken turned and shouted.

The duck named William gave an OK gesture, took two fat leech-like creatures from a culture dish nearby, and tossed them into the soup.

"Uh..."

Liu Zheng's eye twitched.

"How about now?"

the White-Feather Chicken asked again.

"No taste."

He smacked his lips, then his expression changed.

"I feel like something is crawling down my throat."

"That is normal. Don't panic."

As it spoke, the White-Feather Chicken pulled out a gas mask.

"Then why are you putting on a gas mask?"

Liu Zheng narrowed his eyes.

"That is normal procedure too. Don't panic. Is everyone ready?"

the White-Feather Chicken shouted.

"Ready!"

Responses rose one after another.

He looked around. Every Kitchen employee had put on a gas mask.

Except for him and Cow-Horse.

"Good. You can let it out now."

the White-Feather Chicken said.

"Let what out?"

Just as Liu Zheng asked, violent gurgling erupted from his stomach.

His eyes flew wide. His glutes clenched and released, and a blast of foul gas immediately shot out.

"Pfft-pfft-pfft! Pfft-pfft-pfft!"

The sounds came in rapid bursts like a heavy machine gun firing, inflating Liu Zheng's pants.

A suffocating stench rapidly spread through the air, so spicy that he could not even open his eyes.

"Turn on the ventilation! Full power!"

the White-Feather Chicken ordered.

A Kitchen employee immediately activated the ventilation system, and the roar of a massive motor filled the room.

A full thirty seconds passed before Liu Zheng finally stopped venting gas.

The instant he saw his pant legs deflate, he nearly burst into tears.

Luckily, none of these guys were human. Otherwise, he could forget about ever facing people again.

"My mistake. I forgot you aren't entirely human."

The White-Feather Chicken removed its gas mask, looking solemn.

"Wait, if he eats this, won't the other customers have a problem with it?"

Liu Zheng questioned.

"That is a VIP customer. He has his own private room."

The White-Feather Chicken explained.

"Wouldn't he feel sick from smelling it himself?"

"Who knows? I only cook. Customer experience is the Service Department's business."

The White-Feather Chicken shrugged and walked away on its own.

Liu Zheng curled his lip and was about to resume washing vegetables when he saw Cow-Horse charging at him with a savage expression.

"Not good!"

Liu Zheng shuddered in alarm.

Cow-Horse had not been wearing a gas mask just now.

He immediately threw down the vegetable basket and hid on the other side of the counter.

"Come over here. I promise I won't beat you to death."

Cow-Horse panted, gripping the tabletop.

Tears still lingered at the corners of its eyes. It had clearly been hit hard by the fumes too.

"Do I look stupid?"

Liu Zheng scoffed at its promise.

"Besides, it's not like I wanted to fart. If you want to settle scores, go find Napoleon."

"The fart came out of your asshole. Who else am I supposed to find?"

Cow-Horse glared at him.

"You're the one who brought me into the Kitchen. If you hadn't brought me in, how would I have farted?"

He shot back.

"You brat, I think you're asking for a beating."

Cow-Horse flew into a rage, took two steps back, and was about to leap over.

"Enough. Why are you arguing over a little fart?"

The White-Feather Chicken came over to mediate.

"You've got the nerve to say that? Why didn't you give me a gas mask?"

Cow-Horse redirected its anger.

"Why the hell should I give you one? We still haven't settled the score over that bottle of Vlad III last time."

The White-Feather Chicken got angry, and its comb turned blood-red.

"What, want to have another go?"

Its chicken claws scraped against the floor, gouging furrow-like marks into the stainless-steel surface.

"Hey, that's all in the past. Why keep bringing it up?"

Cow-Horse said with an awkward grin.

"Hmph. Not fighting, right? Then get out there and pick up the goods."

"Smuggled goods?"

Cow-Horse frowned.

"That's right. The last batch wasn't inspected properly, and I'll take that loss. But we lost so many people. I can't just stay silent about it."

"You're not Kitchen staff anyway. Help me vent this anger."

The White-Feather Chicken nodded heavily.

"Those people aren't easy to deal with. What's in it for me?"

Cow-Horse asked.

"The Vlad III matter is settled. As for your subordinate, I can give him a cup of Golden Mead."

The White-Feather Chicken glanced at Liu Zheng.

"Feeling generous, are we?"

Cow-Horse looked at Liu Zheng as well.

"Are you going or not? Just so we're clear, if a real fight breaks out, I might not be able to look after you."

It said.

"What is Golden Mead?"

Liu Zheng asked.

"You've gone insane once already, right?"

The White-Feather Chicken asked in return.

"Yes."

He admitted it frankly.

These days, having an illness was not shameful. Being healthy was what made someone inhuman.

"If you go insane again, you should hear the Gospel once more."

The White-Feather Chicken said darkly.