Food Frenzy (2)
Ruins of a collapsed building at the entrance to the Orange Zone. Crunch, crack—!
"Ah, fuck. Can't they make this Bug Block without the cockroach leg texture...?"
A stalker exploring the danger zone leaned against a building pillar for a brief rest, grimacing as he chewed on a hard, dark brown lump.
His companion, polishing a rusty weapon nearby, snorted in response.
"Quit your whining. Be grateful you have that to eat. Don't you know what happened to those stray dog gang uncles last week?"
"Oh, the guys who grilled that mutant meat?"
Among stalkers, there was a kind of folk remedy—or more like pufferfish prep method—passed down in the shadows: a risky homemade eating hack. Desperate to taste something like meat, or unable to endure the gnawing hunger any longer, they'd carve out the least contaminated parts of hunted mutants and eat them. A few lucky bastards survived with their guts intact, which kept it as an endless life-or-death gamble for the starving masses.
But those arrogant attempts usually ended in one horrific outcome.
"They got cocky. Two got infected, and it spread to the whole party, right...?"
"Yeah. They all begged to be put out of their misery before getting purified. So eat your Bug Block nicely. Tastes like shit, but nothing beats it for calories without the risk of dying."
◈ Compressed low-contamination insects mixed with sawdust or mystery starch
◈ Tastes like hardened mud, texture like chewing dirt
◈ Best cost-performance food in the apocalypse—no infection risk, pure calories
Bug Block. Combat rations from a shattered world: whole low-contamination insects pulverized, mixed with sawdust or unidentified starch, and hardened. Texture like compacted mud, taste predictably revolting—but for stalkers, nothing beat the value.
Farming on earth poisoned by rising contamination levels was a pipe dream. Mutations infected not just humans, but all life. In this effectively doomed world, sourcing any other food was a gamble with your life.
"Fuck... this shell's stuck in my teeth."
The stalker spat out an insect shell from between his teeth and pulled a gleaming transparent plastic water bottle from his belt, chugging it down.
Pre-apocalypse pure water, recently flooded into the gallery shop.
"Ahh... the water's fucking amazing. Thanks to the shopkeeper, we won't die of thirst anymore, but..."
This goddamn Bug Block—I just can't get used to it.
Thirst was miraculously solved, but hunger was another hell. Still, as awakened stalkers, they could procure food to fill their bellies. They knew it bone-deep: feeling full in this apocalypse was a luxury.
Just look at the black market beyond the collapsed building they leaned against—the gap was stark.
"Come on! Freshly scavenged corn can from uncharted territory! Just a bit of rust on the outside, expiration only three months past! Starting bid: Magic Stone 50!!"
"Damn! Corn can! 55!"
"60!! It's mine!!"
"70!! Throw in a porter slave!!"
In the black market's heart, stalkers and guild leaders with bloodshot eyes bid fiercely on a dented corn tin elevated like a sacred relic.
And for non-awakened civilians and slum dwellers without the strength to fight monsters?
"Hey, look over there. They smelled it and came running."
One resting stalker chuckled, pulling a shriveled, mystery bread crumb from his pocket and flicking it to the ground—like feeding stray cats.
Splat—!
"Aaaagh!"
"Give it here, you bastard!! I saw it first!!"
"Fuck you, die! Dieee!!!"
"Kek! Gack!"
Two skeletal beggars circling for scraps lunged like beasts at the mud-caked crumb, gouging eyes and choking throats.
A casual act of the stalkers' mocking charity ended a life. Mold or food poisoning? Luxuries they couldn't afford. Without shoving something down their gullets today, starvation awaited.
"...!"
"Huh?"
They all froze, eyes snapping to the translucent System window floating in the air.
Thanks to our members' enthusiastic support, new items will soon arrive at our shop.
Next stock: Food items.
That was the shop's curt gallery post. A single line, no details on what food.
"Wha... what?"
"Not just water..."
"Now we can buy f-food... actual food...?"
But that alone was enough to upend the world's rules.
The shop was selling food too. The most desperate reaction came not from merchants or mercenaries, but from the 1st Relief Center on the Orange Zone's outskirts.
"Ughhhh..."
"J-just kill me..."
"M-my stomach... it's ripping apart..."
The grand "relief center" sign rang hollow amid hundreds of patients writhing on crude beds of patched rags and tents. Not zombie bites, but severe malnutrition, protein deficiency, chronic bowel obstructions, and gastric bleeding from rough food were killing them.
"Director... three more passed this morning..."
"Force-feeding them Bug Blocks would kill them from shock before digestion..."
Kang Seok-hyun, director of the 1st Relief Center, rubbed his bloodshot eyes at the nurse's grim report.
"Hoo..."
His Heal skill delayed infections, stitched wounds, stopped bleeding—but couldn't fix ruined digestive systems or fundamental malnutrition. Especially not in non-awakened civilians.
Pure water had curbed epidemics and dehydration, but this world's meager rations mercilessly gnawed their innards.
The solution was insultingly simple.
"Just... proper meals. That's all it would take..."
A few nutrient-rich feeds would save over half. But in this hell six months post-apocalypse, even that hope was a luxury.
Even a quack doctor couldn't save them... It's inevitable...
As resignation bubbled into bitter humor on his lips—
"Director!! The sh-shop notice is up!!!"
A nurse burst in, shouting.
"Director!! The sh-shop notice!!!"
"Notice? What notice?"
"Food!! They're selling food!!!!"
Silence fell over the tent hospital's staff.
"Food...?"
"Yes!! The shopkeeper's selling food this time...!!!"
The healer directing the center summoned the gallery window.
Next stock: Food items.
"It's... real...? No specifics on what food yet?"
"Not yet... Just that it's food!!!"
Kang Seok-hyun's cracked, rough hands trembled.
A shop selling pure water. Its food would surely outclass the contaminated garbage here.
If... just if it's pre-apocalypse food...!
The other staff thought the same.
"What... what kind of food could it be...!"
"Please... even clean grain flour..."
"No, hardtack scraps to soak in water... anything...!"
No dreams of meat or porridge. Food their patients' guts could digest without issue? It would save countless lives spewing blood here.
Yet Kang Seok-hyun whispered low.
"Let's not hope for too much..."
"D-Director..."
"As long as it's something our patients can swallow... that's enough...!"
Not just the dying relief center pinned their fates on the shop notice.
At the Orange Zone's frontline: Pangyo North Fortress.
Unlike warlords gone rogue or raiders, this regular army held the line with iron duty.
Unusually united by strong mission under their commander—no internal gripes or desertions—but normal food vanished long ago.
"Fuck... why does this beast meat taste like chewing tires...?"
"Swallow it. Or you won't have strength to fire during the next Wave."
With empty warehouses, soldiers guarding the line choked down hunted mutant animal meat for hellish survival. Risking stench and infection just to fill their guts.
Then—
"Captain!! The shop... shop food notice!!"
The adjutant flung open the command post door.
"The shop... has food incoming?!!"
"Yes, sir! Just posted!"
Captain Kim Tae-hyeong's eyes widened in shock.
Pure water was miracle enough, now—
"Food..."
"Captain... if it's truly edible human food..."
He swallowed dryly at the adjutant's quaver.
Faces of soldiers gnawing mutant meat daily flashed by.
If such food dropped, it could decide the fortress's survival—and the entire Orange Zone's fate.
"Please... let it boost the troops' morale...!"
As hopes converged—
Only one mysterious user, TrollNEET, refused to believe any of it.