Gluttony

Scott stared into the void for a moment, recalling that he had promised Ellen Vanitas something yesterday. When he glanced at the clock, he realized it was already 8 PM. He had slept through both the night and the day—an unusual occurrence.

No matter how incredible his magical abilities were in the dream world, in reality, he was still just a poor young man, suffering from a humiliating lack of money. Moments ago, he had devoured his entire food supply for the next few months in a single sitting. 200,000 dollars—that was an enormous sum for him. He had the urge to clutch it tightly.

Scott quickly typed out a response on the virtual keyboard:

"Where are you? In an hour—no, in half an hour, I'll deliver it to you."

When he pressed "Send", the runic text condensed, transforming into a small magical origami bird. It flew toward the bottom right corner of the holographic display and then vanished.

Exactly five minutes later, Ellen sent an address:

"I'm at this location. Someone will be waiting for you outside the door in half an hour. You can hand the item directly to them."

It seemed she still didn't fully trust Scott—she didn't even want to meet him face-to-face.

Scott didn't mind. As long as he got his money, everything was fine. He simply replied with "Okay," then closed the hologram.

He took out Ellen's old crystal processor and began repairing it, the joints of his fingers clicking as he worked.

"Huh?"

As he opened the crystal processor with a screwdriver, he immediately noticed something different about himself.

Today, his mental state was excellent, and his mind felt unusually clear. With just a quick scan of his eyes, he could comprehend the deep and intricate structure of the crystal processor's complex interior with astonishing clarity.

He closed his eyes calmly, and an illusory, transparent image of the old crystallization process slowly emerged in his mind. Every tiny component separated, one by one, and began to rotate slowly in the air, allowing him to examine them from every angle—granting him an exceptionally clear understanding of each and every detail.

Scott had a strange feeling that even if this task wasn't as simple as replacing a heat sink, but rather the extremely difficult job of repairing the crystal core itself, he would still be able to tinker and fix the processor with ease.

"Looks like watching blacksmiths forge artifacts for hundreds of years wasn't a waste of time. Even though I've forgotten the details of my dream, my visual perception has improved significantly."

Because of this, his repair speed increased dramatically. Instead of his original 200-minute estimate, he completed the repair successfully in far less time.

Additionally, he made precise modifications to the heat sink structure. He applied a new type of heat sink design—one that had only been invented 50 years ago—to this ancient 2,000-year-old crystal processor. He estimated that this upgrade would improve heat dissipation efficiency by 35%, increasing the thermal barrier clock speed by at least 13%.

"It's practically perfect. This job is worth every bit of the 200,000 dollars—it's not expensive at all."

Scott examined his work carefully and was extremely satisfied. He felt that this was the finest piece of work he had ever created in his life.

As he basked in his satisfaction, a foul smell suddenly invaded his nose.

Scott immediately realized that during his dream-fueled transformation, he had sweated profusely, and now his entire body was covered in sticky filth.

Raising his wrist to check the time, he saw that it wasn't too late yet. He had time to take a shower.

He scrubbed himself vigorously, put on clean clothes, and walked out feeling refreshed and relaxed.

Ellen's message pointed him to a buffet restaurant in the Upper Northern District—a wealthy area where high-ranking figures gathered.

Scott had rarely visited this place in the past, and whenever he passed by, he felt like a beggar who had stumbled into an elite banquet.

But today, he held his head high, puffed out his chest, sucked in his stomach, and raised his nose to the sky.

With each step, he strode forward three meters, completely indifferent to what anyone thought of him. He was absolutely thrilled.

Even though his wrinkled jacket had already been washed too many times, even though the fabric above his knees was patched, even though his toes peeked out from his worn-out shoes, even though anyone could tell at a glance that he was a penniless young man who had no idea when his next meal would be…

His expression was like that of a majestic guild leader about to sign a billion-dollar contract, with a piece of gold tucked in his pocket.

This aura came from the dream world, from the accumulated memories of a high-level magician. It was a pure mental state of absolute superiority, unrelated to physical strength, rank, or status.

It was like someone who had spent decades dealing with prehistoric dinosaurs—to him, encountering a tiger was no different from meeting a fat house cat.

The Upper Northern District was located in the heart of the Vast Ocean City, home to five artificial lake areas, each hidden and isolated from the others. The address Ellen provided pointed to the edge of one of these zones, "The Hidden Spirit Lake." There, he found a buffet restaurant named "The Tranquil Borders of the Hidden Spirit."

This restaurant was surrounded by forests and took advantage of its natural environment. Weather rune arrays had been installed, causing snow to drift year-round within a 100-meter radius.

The snowfall wasn't heavy, but it gave the restaurant a peaceful ambiance.

This restaurant was considered one of the finest in the Vast Ocean City. It was relatively affordable, with a refined atmosphere—elegant yet accessible. For powerful figures without vast fortunes, or the wealthy heirs receiving allowances from their parents, spending money here perfectly matched their social standing.

Standing at the entrance of "The Tranquil Borders of the Hidden Spirit" was a woman dressed in a silk skirt—a beautiful waitress in formal uniform. She greeted Scott as he swaggered in with wide strides.

His walking posture and attire were completely mismatched, making his appearance awkward. The waitress stared at him for a moment, but then quickly adopted a polite demeanor and said:

"Good evening, sir. May I ask if you are a student of the Scarlet Ocean Academy, Scott Walton?"

"That's right. Ellen must have sent you. I have the goods here. Do you need to inspect them?"

Scott didn't waste words as he pulled out the crystal processor and handed it over.

The disguised waitress smiled and said, "That won't be necessary. Miss Ellen said that if there's any issue, she will personally find her classmate, Scott Walton. Here, please accept this card."

With a slight bow, she held out a transparent glass card engraved with rune markings, offering it to him with the utmost respect.

This was an anonymous instant-cash card. A crystal processor could read the runes on it and transfer the funds into a bank account. It could also be used at most stores with a simple scan. It was extremely convenient.

As Scott took the cash card, he gently touched the interwoven orange-and-blue runes in its top-right corner. The card trembled slightly, and a number appeared on its surface:

200,000

Ellen Vanitas had transferred the full amount onto a single card.

Scott's eyes lit up, and with an unintentional, boastful whistle, he said:

"Much appreciated! Oh, right, when you get the chance, help me express my gratitude to Ellen. And if she ever needs anything else, remind her that I'll always give her a huge discount!"

Scott carefully placed the instant-cash card into his tight pocket. Then, he turned around, grinning, and strolled off.

He was already calculating what he'd buy from the market in the Commoner's District—he would stock up on dozens of extra pounds of canned "Blazing Storm Chicken" to take home.

At that exact moment, a "Ssssss" sound filled the air from within The Tranquil Borders of the Hidden Spirit—the sound of a fresh, tender piece of beef steak sizzling on a cast-iron grill.

A light meaty aroma, mixed with the scents of dozens of rare spices, floated outward like an intoxicating breeze.

Scott's stomach rumbled.

He froze in place, as if a hidden rope had yanked him back.

"Dear god! How am I hungry again this fast?!"

The energy he had consumed—from his mental willpower to his physical strength—was immense. He had drained his life force. Even after devouring dozens of cans of Blazing Storm Chicken, it wasn't enough to restore him.

He had been fine before, but the moment he smelled the meat, he snapped back into his previous state of hunger-fueled addiction.

His stomach felt like a bottomless pit. His entire body burned with hunger—even his bones ached.

His face twisted to the extreme, and saliva dripped from his mouth.

Without thinking, Scott reversed his steps and charged inside with a dazed look in his eyes.

His predatory aura, reminiscent of a ravenous beast, startled the waitress slightly.

"Hmm?"

Scott's sharp gaze locked onto the source of the scent. His molars ground together—like a carnivore forced to eat grass for an entire year.

The young waitress almost burst into tears.

Her heart screamed:

"Where did this guy come from?! Is he going to EAT ME TOO?!"

She instinctively took a few small steps backward, calmed herself, and—with great difficulty—forced a smile as she said:

"Sir, you've come at the perfect time! Tonight, at The Tranquil Borders of the Hidden Spirit, we're celebrating with a special offer! We're giving a 40% discount on all dishes, and waiving the service fee. The price for our self-service dinner is only 2,500 dollars per guest—and it comes with a free drink of your choice!"

The higher-class establishments weren't foolish enough to turn guests away just because of their appearance. In wealthy districts, as long as a guest wasn't dining in their underwear, everyone was treated equally and with courtesy at these luxurious restaurants.

The disguised waitress had no idea where this person came from, but she was highly skilled in polite conversation. She quickly stepped aside, smoothly guiding the situation back toward promoting the restaurant's quality.

"2,500 dollars?"

Scott's eyes narrowed.

That number flashed in his mind and immediately transformed into a countless number of Blazing Storm Chicken cans, filling every corner of his vision.

His first instinct was to turn around and leave.

However, the body is more honest than the mind.

The aroma of the grilled meat was irresistible—as if he had swallowed a giant walnut, his Adam's apple bobbed up and down uncontrollably.

He hesitated for exactly one second.

His mental defenses shattered completely.

A fire lit up in his eyes, hunger etched into every feature of his face.

He loosened his belt slightly.

Like a starving dog released from its cage, he howled and charged inside.

"It's only 2,500 bucks, right? I just got 200,000! One meal won't kill me. Today is an exception!"

The interior design of The Tranquil Borders of the Hidden Spirit was meticulously crafted.

The dining area stretched into a long corridor, divided into 23 private sections with lantern-lit gardens. Food-laden tables were set up in each section, ensuring that every guest could dine in their own personal space.

"Such an abundance of delicacies! How do I even describe this?"

At that moment, Scott felt like his knowledge of biology had completely vanished.

He couldn't name most of the exotic dishes, nor had he ever seen them before.

He found a quieter corner, grabbed a thirty-pound roasted lamb leg, and tore into it savagely—meat, blood, and all.