Chapter 88.1: Very Valuable
Was food provided by undead edible?
Were it those men dumped on the street, ones with enough fat on their bodies, they would certainly refuse. Used to the finer things in life, skipping a meal or two was nothing to them.
But for ordinary folk, this question was irrelevant. Not to mention the lower-rung sex workers, even the Doyles, who ran a family inn, had eaten their fair share of worm-ridden cheese and moldy black bread.
The root cause of this was that Weisshem lacked local produce. 80% of the land in Weisshem and surrounding villages was mountainous, and arable land in the area made up less than 5%.
While 5% of arable land might sound dismal, it should be more than enough to feed the 20,000 total population of Weisshem and its surrounding villages. Unfortunately, this world lacked the luxury of chemical fertilizers.
Without fertilizers, pesticides, or meticulous farming, it wasn't too difficult to imagine how meager crop yields were. Even with all the food produced in the area (wheat, corn, soybeans, potatoes) added up, the self-sufficiency rate barely achieved 60%. At least 40% of the food deficit had to be filled from elsewhere.
In areas with underdeveloped road infrastructure, transportation costs soared. Weisshem was only around 40 kilometers away from the nearest large city of Indahl, which wasn't too far away, but bringing grain from Indahl to Weisshem would inevitably raise the price by around 10%-20%. In other words, the cost of living in Weisshem was inherently higher.
To make matters worse, the mayor of Weisshem had spent over four decades in office, albeit his only "achievement" had been the transformation of Weisshem from a poor border town into a place of extravagance and luxury.
The influx of pleasure-seeking visitors brought substantial wealth, indirectly driving up prices in Weisshem—a bottle of the cheapest corn rum that cost four copper coins elsewhere would cost six in Weisshem; a pound of black bread that went for three copper coins elsewhere cost four to five; and a small can of butter that was available for 30 copper coins elsewhere would be 38 in Weisshem.
Apart from vegetables brought into the town by local farmers, all other daily necessities in Weisshem were at least 20% higher than in other places.
As for spices… that wasn't even a matter for consideration. Spices were luxury items even in Indahl. In Weisshem, soup that wasn't completely tasteless was already considered a decent standard of living. Many housewives here were skilled in making tomato sauce just for flavor without using too much butter.
From a certain perspective, it could be said that the people of Weisshem lived an environmentally friendly and health-conscious life, akin to what some in China considered an ascetic lifestyle. People here didn't have the problem of excessive oil, salt, or sugar consumption, which plagued both Chinese and Westerners, and shouldn't have issues living beyond the ripe old age of 120.
But, if one were to ask the people of Weisshem whether they would be willing to exchange their super-healthy ascetic lifestyle with the Chinese people's heavy use of oil, salt, and spices… they would most certainly be willing.
The thick soup produced from instant noodle seasoning and condensed broth powder was roughly half-filled with solid ingredients such as well-cooked potato slices, noodles, and some leafy greens grabbed on a whim.
Mrs. Doyle, who had a much smaller appetite due to her age and deteriorating taste buds, finished her meal in about five minutes.
After finishing, she cradled the bowl and couldn't bear to put it down, muttering, "Using such delicious soup to cook potatoes and vegetables is such a waste. It should be watered down and used to cook meat, preferably with a few slices of lotus root added… Ah, I should have saved some soup. Old man, have you finished too?"
Mr. Doyle, a few years older than Mrs. Doyle, had even worse taste bud deterioration and hadn't been able to properly taste the flavor of food for several years. This rich and flavorful soup, which could stimulate his taste buds, was simply irresistible.
It went without saying for the other seven young individuals. The bowls in their hands were cleaner than if they had been washed.
"Madam, these are… good people!" Chris, the simple country dairy farmer, had tears in his eyes.
Mrs. Doyle, who had been delighted to eat such good food, slightly furrowed her brows. It didn't look like she had the same simple happiness that Chris had.
With Mrs. Doyle's experience, she knew very well that the spices alone in the food they received were quite valuable.
A group of strange undead and several suspicious men (Hal and his gang certainly didn't look like good people) took control of Weisshem and were distributing food to the townsfolk so generously… What exactly did they want from Weisshem?
Mrs. Doyle didn't reveal her worries and smiled as she got Chris to help her with washing the dishes. She then asked her husband to take the tenants upstairs and sent everyone away. Only after all of them were gone did this old woman take a deep breath, gather her courage, and open her front door.
As she stepped out, two undead standing near her front door turned their skeletal heads, and two pairs of hollow eye sockets met her gaze.
Mrs. Doyle pinched her apron nervously, subconsciously holding her breath.
The two undead didn't pay her much attention and resumed whatever they were doing.
Mrs. Doyle wiped away the beads of cold sweat that had formed on her forehead and looked around for the bunch that was distributing the meals.
The two tricycles hauling the large pots had already been distributed to more than a dozen houses. And because most onlookers watching by the windows had seen those ahead receive food, they now prepared their utensils in advance and stood at their door waiting without any prompting needed.
How wealthy Weisshem got on a day-to-day basis had nothing to do with folk like them that made up the underbelly of the town. Whether it was at low-end taverns and strip clubs or high-end clubs and lounges, people like them would be reprimanded or punished even if they ate just one more slice of vegetable than they should.
Now that food was being distributed without any underlying conditions, these folks didn't fight or scramble, mainly because they were too weak, and the undead were just too frightening.
Mrs. Doyle stood silently at her door, watching as the group finished at one place and moved on to the next. It wasn't until the large pot was lifted and the last bit of soup poured out did they turn around.
Mrs. Doyle clutched her apron nervously, repeatedly telling herself not to be afraid and not to shy away… She waited until the group passed by the entrance of her inn, then summoned her courage, put on a radiant smile, and approached Rex, who appeared to be the leader. "Hello, sir. My name is Watts Doyle, and I'm truly, truly grateful for the food you've provided. May I also help in any way?"
Rex looked at this brave lady and didn't refuse her. "Of course, Mrs. Doyle."
Mrs. Doyle clasped her hands joyfully, "That's wonderful—"
At that moment, the door behind Mrs. Doyle swung open, and Chris rushed out, saying determinedly, "Please allow me to help too, sir. My name is Chris."
Mrs. Doyle's smiling face almost faltered, and worry crept up. "Chris?!"
Chris nodded at her and earnestly requested Rex, "Please let me help too, sir. I… I'm strong, I can do anything."
"Come along." Rex waved his hand nonchalantly, leading the way.
Chris immediately followed, refusing to turn back even when Mrs. Doyle gently tugged at his sleeve.
The first two pots were distributed so quickly that the players hadn't even finished the second batch when Rex returned with two civilian NPCs. Liu Meng, the girl in charge of the cooking quest, didn't think much of it. She pointed to a pile of vegetables and asked the two NPCs to take them to a tavern's backyard for washing—civilian NPCs in Exile Town were accustomed to working alongside players and, other than the language barrier, posed no other significant inconveniences.
Chris carried the vegetables into the tavern's backyard and, seeing no wound around, went to work fetching water. In a hushed voice, he whispered to Mrs. Doyle, "Madam, how could I let you take such a risk alone? This kind of thing should be left to me."
"Y-you child, you are still young. I'm already advanced in age, so it doesn't matter if I encounter something," Mrs. Doyle replied somewhat peeved.
Chris shook his head, pouring the vegetables into the wooden basin. "Don't say that. If anything happened to you, I'd be very upset, as would Anna."
Mrs. Doyle sighed and crouched down, washing the vegetables in silence.
These two were used to doing all sorts of chores, and it didn't take them long to finish washing a whole basket of vegetables. Chris carried it to the inn's entrance and handed it over to the undead responsible for cooking.
Liu Meng checked the vegetables washed by the two civilian NPCs and found them to be in good shape, with all the roots removed. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a plastic bag of sugar cubes, taking out two and handing them to the civilian NPC duo.
This bag of sugar cubes had been bought from the uncle at the Merchant Association cafeteria.
Why were players, who had no need for food, carrying sugar cubes with them at all times? This was a loophole that players uncovered: When doing stuff in Exile Town with civilian NPCs, giving a piece of sugar would make them very willing to help out.
It wasn't too clear who had discovered this "bug," but it was secretly circulated among players and never posted on the forum to avoid it being fixed by the developers. When a player's bag suffered a tear, selling it and buying a new one wasn't worth it, while continuing to use it would mean a risk of dropping stuff. Thus, players used sugar cubes to bribe the female workers at the tailor shop to help patch them up…
Mrs. Doyle and Chris had never imagined that the undead would distribute sugar to them. And on top of that, these were large, expensive-looking crystal sugar, which left them baffled.
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