The fresh Monster Meat had been soaked in high-proof liquor to remove its heavy, fishy odor.
It was then fried in oil at three hundred degrees Celsius for a full ten minutes. The slices of Monster Meat turned golden brown, rich without being greasy. As for the taste... it wasn't great!
In an elegant, refined dining room, Zhang Ming was enjoying the dubious cuisine provided by the Macrosteel People. To be fair, the fact that these fellows could prepare Monster Meat so exquisitely exceeded his expectations!
"Urgh... at least it's better than my cooking!"
Besides, Gangduo and the other foreigners were indeed knowledgeable and eloquent at the table. With the food and drink they supplied, they had certainly fulfilled their duties as hosts.
The lively scene felt familiar. Every winter, when he went home for the New Year, there would always be a group of elders shooting the breeze around the dinner table.
Back then, he had found them annoying. Now, though, it had been a very, very long time since he had heard their voices.
Zhang Ming patted his belly in satisfaction. After finishing the plate of Monster Meat, he entered a state of soul satiety, meaning that eating more Monster Meat in the short term would no longer give him attribute points.
So he picked up a glass of high-proof liquor and drank by himself.
It was good liquor, of course, mellow yet carrying a slash-and-burn wildness. But Zhang Ming still felt that it wasn't as good as cola. Even after all these years, he still disliked alcoholic drinks. After all, under microscopic perception, alcohol seemed to do the human body nothing but harm. It was better not to drink if he could avoid it.
Clearly, the Macrosteel People were a race extremely fond of alcohol. Gangduo had