Chapter 3: stats and strategy

Aris glanced at the half-drunk porridge, his excitement fading. "Zona, what's wrong with this watery porridge?" he asked inwardly. He recalled the warning that the AI had given earlier, that it was not fit to be eaten due to harmful substances. [ Analysis indicates the food contains detectable traces of toxic contaminants. Potential sources include preparation procedures or inadequate hygiene. Prolonged consumption poses a risk of chronic poisoning. Projected effects encompass a gradual degradation of liver and kidney function.]

"No wonder we're so weak and malnourished," he muttered, his eyes shifting to the other slaves. The sight of the cook made him feel utterly repulsed. The thought of someone so unclean preparing their food made his stomach turn. "A stable workforce means sustained production. But instead, they waste resources on constant replacements " he thought. But then again, who would waste good food and skilled cooks on slaves when they could simply discard them when they were no longer useful?

He glanced at the watery porridge, a wave of nausea rising within him, but his stomach grumbled in protest, reminding him of his hunger. A gnawing hesitation held him back. Could he really risk it? He closed his eyes, trying to push aside the unease, and forced himself to swallow the porridge. The AI chip's warnings continued to echo in his mind, but his circumstances left him no choice. If he didn't eat, he'd grow weaker. With three reluctant gulps, he finished the porridge. He stood, washed the bowl, and returned it to the side of his worn-out bed.

After that, he moved toward, the farm, the farm was not that large from what he had seen but he guessed that maybe there were other farms in another place like this place. The farm was a rice farm and Aris could see the bent workers who were kids, they had no tools to speed up their work and most of the work was done in hand. If the workers were adults they would have constantly sighed and groaned due to back pain from this demanding work.

He entered the farm and stood at the edge of the paddies, his gaze scanning the disorganized scene before him. The paddies were unevenly flooded, some with stagnant, murky water, others dry and cracked. The rice plants were scattered in no particular order, growing in mismatched rows. It was chaos, and it was clear that the workers too didn't know what they were doing.

He noticed the kid's tired faces, their clothes tattered, some with open wounds on their legs, but still they waded into the water to plant the rice. The conditions were harsh, and it was easy to see the inefficiency of the operation.

"I can use this," Aris thought, his mind already working on a plan. He didn't need to fix everything himself; he couldn't, even if he wanted to, but he could capitalize his knowledge to his advantage. If he pointed out the flaws to the chief slave manager, he might gain favor and secure better food, or perhaps even better treatment. But the chief manager was narrow-minded and cruel; if a slave dared to tell him what to do, punishment would certainly follow. Aris knew he needed to find a way to get the man's attention without drawing his wrath.

"What are you dazing for get into your paddy, " said one of the enforcers who saw Aris looking around, and Aris immediately ran to the paddies as he began planting the rice. Aris scanned the area for the chief slave manager and spotted him reclining on a chair under a tree. A plate with a few fruits, including grapes and apples, rested nearby. Beside him stood his follower, lazily waving a fan, occasionally pausing between motions.

The other enforcer kept a watchful eye on the slave kids as they toiled in the fields. Aris shifted his focus back to planting, carefully spacing the seeds apart and ensuring the paddies had enough water. After some time, they were granted a brief ten-minute rest before being sent back to work.

When lunch arrived, they were given nothing but hard bread and water before being sent back to work. After eleven grueling hours of labor, with only thirty-minute breaks in between, the day finally came to an end. Exhausted, Aris sat at the edge of his paddy, his body aching. He let out a slow breath, his gaze fixed on the fields. "Now, we wait for three to seven days," he thought as he looked at his work.

...

Aris and his fellow slave kids returned to the quarters, their bodies worn from the day's labor. Some were so exhausted that they collapsed into sleep, skipping supper entirely.

When the meal arrived, they were given beans. Aris took his portion and made his way to his usual spot beneath a tree. Sitting down, he held the bowl in his hands, hesitating for a moment before bringing a spoonful close to his mouth, testing it cautiously.

This time, no warning came from the AI chip. Instead, its mechanical voice echoed in his mind:

[Further intake of beans can increase your body's health.] Without hesitation, Aris began to eat.

"Zona," he whispered internally, keeping his excitement in check. "Can you show my body condition in stats, like a game?"

[Affirmative.Analyzing… Analyzing… Body condition displayed below.]

Body Stats: Strength: 0.2 : Physique: 0.2 : Agility: 0.3

Aris blinked in surprise. Seeing his stats laid out in front of him made it feel more tangible as if he could track his improvements. But still, the question lingered in his mind: Would the beans really make a difference? He couldn't see any immediate changes, but now that he had his stats laid out, he could focus on seeing gradual progress.

"Zona," he muttered, his mind calculating. "How long will it take for my body to improve with proper nutrition? Will these beans make a difference?"

[Bean consumption will result in a gradual increase in physical statistics. This is attributable to improved nutritional intake, muscle tissue repair, and energy reserve replenishment. The timeframe for noticeable changes ranges from days to weeks, contingent upon consistent consumption. Immediate physical alterations are not expected.]

Aris nodded to himself. This was more of a long-term solution. His body wouldn't suddenly transform overnight, but it was a start.

"Alright," he thought, gripping the bowl of beans. "I'll stick with it. My strength needs to improve, staying weak isn't an option in a place like this."

Two minutes later, he finished eating the beans and glanced at his stats, now displayed on a floating panel in front of him. The AI chip allowed him to track his progress by monitoring his body in real-time. There was no immediate change—his stats still read: strength: 0.2, physique: 0.2, agility: 0.3.

He wasn't disappointed by the numbers as he knew he had a long way till he could see change. He rose and went to the well, he washed his bowl and returned to his bed. Laying on his back, he stared at the ceiling. Bunk beds and single beds surrounded him and he could hear the sound of the kids turning on their beds. All day, he hadn't spoken to anyone, not because he didn't want to, but because the body's owner hadn't had any friends. His only friend had died from sickness.

He stared at the ceiling for ten minutes, lost in thought, contemplating various ways to escape his current situation. The most viable plan seemed to be the one involving the rice farm. By sharing his knowledge with the chief slave manager, he could earn the opportunity for better food. Once his body became healthier, he could aim to join the squire's camp and train to become a soldier or knight and then go from there.

The next day, Aris followed his usual routine, visiting the well, brushing, and then returning to the house. After a few minutes of resting, he decided to take a walk around the area and also test the AI chip's scanning abilities, curious to see if any changes had occurred since his previous life. 

As he wandered into a grassy field with a few wild herbs growing, the AI continuously scanned the surroundings in an omnidirectional manner, its range limited to one meter. Aris paused, mentally processing the information, it wasn't overwhelming, but enough for him to assess.

He crouched down and touched one of the wild herbs. The AI immediately responded, [New herb detected, not in the database. Analyzing…] After a brief moment, it continued, [ Detected properties: Mild muscle relief. Temporary numbing of stiffness. Effects are short-lived and ineffective for serious pain or injury.] The AI's mechanical voice echoed in his mind.

"This is new," Aris thought, his tone neutral as he plucked the herb. He glanced at another one and touched it. The AI's voice echoed in his mind again: [ New herb detected, not in the database: Analyzing properties. Soothing topical properties detected. Effective for minor cuts or skin irritation. Low healing effect. Does not promote regeneration or recovery.] Aris nodded to himself. "Useful for small injuries, but not much more."

After testing a few more herbs, all with mild pain-relieving or soothing effects, Aris spotted something unusual out of the corner of his eye. A purple herb with slender leaves. Curious, he crouched down and touched it. 

The AI immediately spoke in his mind: [ New herb detected, not in the database: Analyzing properties. Neurotoxic alkaloids present. Causes dizziness, nausea, and paralysis upon ingestion. Prolonged exposure can lead to unconsciousness or death. Highly dangerous; use with extreme caution.] Aris frowned, taking note. "Definitely not something to play with."

After twenty minutes of searching, Aris found only one poisonous herb, while the rest were useful for pain relief and soothing. He collected three of the healing herbs and made his way back to the front of the houses. He Stood among the other slave kids as he waited after ten minutes the enforcer arrived and began his usual speech, full of threats. The message was clear: any escape attempt would be met with severe consequences.

Aris's mind flashed to a memory inherited from the body he now occupied, a slave kid who had tried to escape. The attempt had been brief, and the boy was found just hours later and he was beaten to death In front of the other slaves, a cruel lesson meant to deter anyone else.

Around him, the other children trembled, the enforcer's words dragging up painful memories. Their fear was noticeable, a shared terror that had been etched into their minds.

After five minutes, he concluded his rant with a dismissive wave of his hand, signaling them to head to breakfast, just the usual breakfast.

Aris sat beneath the tree, holding the bowl of watery-porridge, his mind racing with the thought of the toxic porridge and the healing herbs he had gathered. "What would happen if I added the healing herbs to the watery porridge?" he mused. "Could the herbs offset the toxins and even increase its nutritional value?"

He immediately turned inward, activating the AI chip. A moment later, the familiar mechanical voice echoed in his mind.

[ Analyzing… Processing… Addition of healing herbs to porridge: Potential temporary alleviation of harmful effects detected. Likely to reduce mild discomfort and nausea. Complete neutralization of toxins not achievable. Long-term consumption still poses risk. Nutritional enhancement: Herbs contain minimal nutritional value. Primarily offer relief, not sustenance.]

Aris frowned slightly but continued listening.

[Adjusting quantities and ratios: Potential improvement in immediate digestibility detected. May reduce some toxic symptoms temporarily. Relief provided is limited. Core issue—porridge toxicity—remains unless food source is altered.]

Aris gave a slight nod, internalizing the AI's analysis. It wasn't an ideal solution, but if the herbs could make the porridge more tolerable, it might provide some temporary relief until he could find a more permanent way to improve his situation. He resolved to add the herbs in precise amounts, taking the AI's guidance into account. It wouldn't solve everything, but for the time being, it was the most practical option.