Chapter 31 Volunteer

**Chapter 31 – Volunteers**

A clear solution, five centimeters long and shaped like an elongated eye-drop bottle, lay quietly in Ji An’s hand.

Ji An said, “This is a daily dose—one vial per day—capable of sustaining a full day’s energy and basic nutritional needs. It can be taken long-term.”

Ji An heard Wan Xueying and Kong Zhongcheng each gasping louder than the last, clearly completely stunned.

The corners of Ji An’s lips curled upward slightly. If this was enough to amaze them, even more amazing things were coming.

“This nutritional formula achieves a nutrient conversion efficiency of over eighty percent. Previously, the food consumed by one person in a day could now sustain eighty people for a day.”

The human body cannot fully convert all the energy from food—most of it is wasted. Such a high conversion rate was truly astounding. One person’s food supply feeding eighty people—that statistic was absolutely mind-blowing!

What would that even mean?

A minimal amount of food could sustain countless lives!

Hunger would vanish from the world forever.

A breakthrough for today, a gift to future generations!

Even Gu Jinsheng’s usually impassive expression flickered. If the formula was real, it would signify a revolutionary leap forward in human dietary science—and the end of food shortages. Hunger would become a thing of the past.

From then on, the word “hunger” would be erased from humanity’s vocabulary.

“Holy shit…”

“Holy shit…”

“Holy fucking hell…”

“Forgive my limited vocabulary,” Kong Zhongcheng rambled excitedly, “but I can’t even begin to describe how I feel right now. My admiration for you is like the endless flow of the Yellow River—boundless and unceasing…” He was so overwhelmed he didn’t even know what he was saying anymore.

Yet no one laughed at him—not even Wan Xueying.

“Ji An, you’re truly amazing!” Gu Jinsheng’s praise was simple and plain, but it came straight from the heart.

He couldn’t understand—was Chen Chen really that much of an idiot? To reject such an outstanding individual in favor of that two-faced manipulator? Just because his position as Commander-in-Chief felt too secure, and he wanted to stir things up a bit? Well, now he’d shaken things up too much and taken a hard fall.

He wondered—if Chen Chen ever found out that both the spatial storage device and the nutritional formula were Ji An’s creations—would he slap himself on the spot?

Ji An smiled with quiet pride, his slightly raised chin radiating confidence. He *was* just that extraordinary.

“Little An,” Gu Jinsheng continued, his deep eyes locked onto Ji An, appearing calm on the surface but concealing a barely restrained beast beneath—a fierce and dangerous one, ready to strike the moment it was unleashed.

Ji An seemed to sense the turbulence hidden beneath Gu Jinsheng’s calm exterior—the lurking danger.

Uncomfortable, he looked away. “Fine, I accept. I agree to your terms and guarantee that the nutritional formula will only be sold to you. Any other base wishing to purchase it will need your approval.”

“Ji An, you’re amazing! Having you in our base is a blessing for all of us!” Kong Zhongcheng exclaimed enthusiastically, missing the subtle nuance in Ji An’s words.

Wan Xueying, however, noticed—Ji An had said “you,” not “the Jing City Base.”

That favoritism was blatantly obvious. It meant that as long as Gu Jinsheng remained the Commander-in-Chief of Jing City Base, the nutritional formula would belong to the base. But if Gu Jinsheng was no longer in that position, the formula might no longer be guaranteed for Jing City Base—or even whether the base could continue selling it at all.

If that day ever came, there would be no shortage of bases ready to roll out the red carpet for Gu Jinsheng to take their command.

Conversely, the superpowered members of Jing City Base weren’t fools—they wouldn’t allow such a golden goose to walk away.

Ji An was openly siding with Gu Jinsheng, securing Gu Jinsheng’s position.

Wan Xueying couldn’t help but sigh, “Chen Chen is an idiot!”

Kong Zhongcheng repeated, “Chen Chen is an idiot!”

In the eastern district, two teenage boys stuck together. Though they were already fifteen or sixteen, seven years of surviving the apocalypse had left them malnourished and stunted, making them appear no older than eleven or twelve.

The two boys were skin and bones—so skinny you’d think a stiff breeze could knock them over.

They wore crude, handmade straw sandals on their feet.

“Boss, are we really signing up for that experiment?” asked Zhu Liangping, his voice filled with worry. “I heard it’s a scam experiment meant to trick us into becoming lab rats. They might even carve us up for parts.”

Wei Kang replied, “Then stay. Your family’s still hanging on. But I have no choice. My parents went out with a team to hunt zombies recently and came back with nothing but broken bones. My sister is twelve—just the right age. I can’t let her go out to work; those bastards would eat her alive!

I need money, lots and lots of it!

Wei Kang, even if they lock me up for human experiments, I’ll accept it.

Hell, I hope they chop me to pieces. That way, I’ve heard, you get the highest compensation—a whole million. With that, my family could move to the western district, and I’d never have to worry about those sick freaks eyeing my sister again.”

As he spoke, the young boy Wei Kang showed no fear or sorrow for the possible death awaiting him. Instead, his eyes burned with a scary kind of hope, filled with dreams of a better future for his family.

Zhu Liangping gritted his teeth and made up his mind. “Then I’ll go too. My parents both work in factories, but they’re barely keeping their heads above water trying to feed my two brothers and me.

A while back, my dad lost a finger to a machine. The factory gave him some compensation, but he refused to spend it on medical treatment, saying he’d save it for us.

He just bandaged it up and went back to work. Who knows if it’s even stopped bleeding.

Anyway, I have two younger brothers. It’s not like they’ll run out of kids even if I die. At least my parents will still have someone to take care of them.”

“Alright, let’s go together.”

Once the two boys made their decision, they moved fast, afraid their families would stop them or that they might change their minds. They didn’t want to give themselves a chance to back out.

By the time their families found out, they had already entered the lab. They left only a brief note about their whereabouts and added that they had signed a contract—backing out now meant a penalty in the hundreds of thousands.

The insane amount scared their families off, and it also convinced them that with such steep penalties, their children might never return.

Wu Youyang walked in with a list, his face dark.

“What’s wrong?” Ji An asked.

“The volunteers we recruited are all weak, sick, or broken. Among the ordinary male volunteers, over 70% are homeless. Another 20% are children, and less than 10% are healthy adults. As for the supers, they’re all low-level, and most of them are carrying hidden injuries from battles.”

This was to be expected. If not for their physical conditions, supers—who always thought they were hot shit, believing they were superior to ordinary people—would never willingly participate in an unknown experiment.

These supers were likely injured during self-organized missions, injuries that ordinary hospitals couldn’t treat.

Healing supers only provided free treatment to those injured on official base missions. For those who went on personal missions, the cost of hiring a healing super was exorbitant—way too rich for low-level supers.

“Isn’t this exactly what we wanted?” Ji An said. “Healthy people wouldn’t show much physical change even if they went a month without proper nutrition. But with these malnourished subjects, we can better observe whether the nutrient solution provides balanced nutrition and meets the body’s basic needs.”

Wu Youyang smacked his forehead and laughed. “You’re right—I was overthinking it. If these people come in looking gaunt and leave fat and happy, that’ll be the best proof of our experiment’s success.”

Wu Youyang cheerfully went off to distribute the nutrient solution.

Wei Kang and Zhu Liangping, squeezed into a corner among unfamiliar adults, felt uneasy. But at least there were people watching them around the clock. Nobody bothered them—as long as they kept their fists down.

"Chow time! Chow time!" someone shouted in the distance.

The adults who had been lying around, barely moving as if too weak to live, suddenly sprang into action like leopards at the sound of the call. In an instant, they bolted forward.

Wei Kang and Zhu Liangping didn’t dare to compete with them and silently took their place at the back of the line.

Seven or eight staff members approached from afar, one of them holding a small tray—no bigger than what could hold a single apple.

Wei Kang and Zhu Liangping exchanged glances; their eyes filled with despair.

This tiny portion wasn’t even enough for one person. The adults would surely snatch it all up, leaving the two of them to starve. One day might be bearable, but if this continued daily, they’d never get any food.

"One per person. Drink it immediately after receiving it," one of the distributors announced.

The homeless man at the front peeked and saw something unfamiliar on the tray—something resembling artificial tear drops from before the apocalypse.

He was already at rock bottom, just looking for a place to exist, so he didn’t hesitate to grab one, twist it open, and downed it in one gulp.

It was just ten milliliters at most. The taste barely registered before it was gone.

He smacked his lips—it was actually quite good, with a hint of corn flavor. He couldn’t remember when he’d last eaten corn, and now found himself missing that familiar taste.

"Can I have another one?" the homeless man asked boldly, his eyes shining with hunger.

The Superpowered individual, who had been empty-handed a second ago, suddenly materialized a whip from nowhere. With a sharp crack, he lashed it through the air, sending the homeless man scrambling back.

The Superpowered person had no intention of hurting anyone—just intimidating them. Otherwise, these desperate men would stop at nothing for food.

"One per person. Anyone who dares take more… hmph!" The Superpowered man’s cold snort was more terrifying than any explicit threat.

One by one, people took their portions. When it was Wei Kang and Zhu Liangping’s turn, afraid of being robbed, they didn’t dare carry theirs far and drank it right in front of the staff.

The white-coated staff jotted down notes before leaving.

Only after they were gone did Wei Kang whisper, "No idea what they gave us, but it was surprisingly good. Mine tasted like sorghum."

Zhu Liangping said, "Mine tasted like corn, I think? It’s been years and years since I’ve had corn—I can’t even remember what it really tastes like anymore."

The two smacked their lips, reliving the taste.

"You think they’ll just feed us this? It’s so little—how’s this supposed to fill us up? Will we be hungry by night?" Zhu Liangping wondered.

Wei Kang rubbed his stomach, puzzled. "Do you… feel full?"

Strange. His stomach had been growling just moments ago, starving, but now it was silent. He didn’t feel hungry at all—instead, there was an unfamiliar feeling of fullness.

Zhu Liangping pressed a hand to his belly, eyes widening. "Yeah, I feel full too. What did they give us? How can such a tiny thing make us not hungry?"

"No idea. Maybe this is the experiment."

Wei Kang had no way of knowing that, back home, his mother was weeping uncontrollably. His twelve-year-old sister, having endured much hardship, was no longer an innocent child. She knew her brother had joined a potentially deadly experiment for their family’s sake—one he might never return from.

Wei’s father sighed deeply. "We still have some credit left. Let’s buy something good and make Wei Kang one good meal. That boy’s never had anything decent with us. Now that he’s in that experiment… who knows what’s happening? At least let him eat well—if it's his last meal, let it be a good one."

Wei’s mother wiped her tears. "Yes, I’ll buy him good food—meat. It’s been years and years since Wei Kang had meat. He’s probably forgotten what it tastes like.

I’ll cook for him, give him some nutrition. Maybe if he’s well-fed, his body will be stronger, and he’ll survive whatever they’re doing to him."

Thinking her son might never return, she steeled herself and bought an egg, 50 grams of meat, and 100 grams of rice.

This was the most extravagant meal. Even Wei Kang's mother was practically drooling as she prepared it.

But thinking this might be her son's last meal, she held back her hunger.

After cooking, Wei Kang's parents carefully carried the food to the entrance of the lab and desperately pleaded with the gatekeeper: "Please show some kindness to our boy—just give him this little bit of food."

The gatekeeper refused, "Everyone inside is a volunteer. If you bring in food, what happens if it affects the experiment?"

"No, no," Wei Kang's father quickly replied. "It's just some ordinary ingredients."

Wei Kang's mother added, "Please do us this favor and take it to our child. We'll pay you for your trouble—twenty credit points, alright?"

"No, no," the gatekeeper waved his hand dismissively.

"Fifty," Wei Kang's father said through clenched teeth.

Just then, Rong Fan happened to pass by and overheard them. "Everyone inside is a test subject. They're in the middle of an experiment right now. Absolutely no outside food is allowed. Otherwise, you couldn't handle the consequences."

Seeing Rong Fan in a researcher's uniform, the gatekeeper quickly nodded in agreement. When he turned back to Wei Kang's parents, his face hardened. "Take it away, you hear? No outside food is allowed here. If the experiment is affected, can you afford to compensate for it?"

Remembering Wei Kang's warning about the hundreds of thousands they'd have to pay in compensation, Wei Kang's parents didn't dare push it further and silently left.

Wei Kang's mother wept, "Our poor son—couldn't even get one good meal before dying."