Ninety-three. It's here.

```

Even when roasted to a near cinder, the taste of demon flesh couldn't be concealed.

Richard found it hard to say whether its meat was worse or if the undigested parts in his vomit were more unpalatable.

Having a temporarily safe dwelling and a source of food, Richard began to expand his exploratory range. To avoid losing his way and to find other "living people" in hell, he erected many stone towers around the Meteorite Crater.

Then ten days passed.

Most of the demon's carcass was still there, everything in hell could only burn, not decay. So it was still relatively fresh—although it was fast turning into jerky from the extreme heat.

Richard didn't want to just scrape by any longer, he felt like he was turning into a beast, so upon waking today, he started cutting the demon's body to make jerky.

"Tomorrow," when he awoke, he would take several pounds of jerky and head to the other side of the mountains, and then walk as far as he could.

"You're hard to find."