Chapter Thirty-One: The Heavenly Culinary Paradise

Yin Jian followed Zhou Shun out of the apartment.

The street where he lived, known as Fengyue Street, was considered a rather bustling one—after all, it bordered a subway entrance, so it could never be too rundown.

“Hello, Brother Zhou!”

“Brother Zhou, do you want to come in for a while? I’ve just grilled some eel, and it’s still hot.”

“Landlord, I just bought a new dress. Could you help me see if it looks good?”

As they walked along, nearly half the people on the street would greet Zhou Shun as soon as they spotted him.

Witnessing this, Yin Jian finally understood why Zhou Shun went through the trouble of collecting rent in person every month.

Was this the drab life of a landlord?

He felt a surge of envy.

Zhou Shun smiled and responded to everyone, eventually managing to lead Yin Jian through the crowds to his own place.

Where Zhou Shun lived was about seventy square meters. Every corner of the room was piled high with all sorts of odds and ends, making the space feel somewhat cramped.

This modest size didn’t quite fit with Zhou Shun’s apparent wealth.

“It’s just me living here. Smaller places are more comfortable,” Zhou Shun explained, then led Yin Jian straight into his private room.

According to the etiquette of the Xiahua Star Domain, a guest would normally be invited to sit in the living room for a while. But Zhou Shun didn’t treat Yin Jian as an outsider, so he skipped all those formalities.

The moment Yin Jian entered the room, his gaze was drawn to the two machines beside Zhou Shun’s large bed.

Blue lights shimmered along their sleek design.

Each was two meters long and one and a half wide.

“That’s a T-9 gaming pod!” Yin Jian exclaimed in astonishment.

Though technology in this era had advanced far beyond what people in his previous life could have imagined, most holographic simulation games could now be played with nothing but the neural network embedded in one’s brain.

But for reality games, a gaming pod was still necessary—not only for a more authentic experience, but also for player safety.

Reality games involved projecting consciousness over long distances. Without the protection of a pod, a careless mistake could cause neurological damage.

At best, your whole family would be eating dirt; at worst, your whole family would be eating at your funeral.

Of course, gaming pods weren’t expensive—otherwise, reality games wouldn’t be so popular.

A standard pod could be bought for ten or twenty thousand credits, though that was just the basic model.

It was much like graphics cards in his previous life—there were affordable versions, and then there were luxury models.

Among them, the newly released T-9 series was the most expensive.

At launch, it cost a million credits per unit!

And there were only limited quantities, available on a first-come, first-served basis.

But the T-9’s high price wasn’t just a marketing ploy—the features were worth every credit.

“I saw a review on the release platform saying the T-9’s massage function feels like a young maiden giving you a full-body facial,” Yin Jian said.

“Come on, that has to be marketing genius at work!” Zhou Shun retorted, but as he was about to say more, he paused.

Thinking back, the sensation really was as Yin Jian described—a full-body facial.

The two exchanged a glance, then Zhou Shun looked away, clearing his throat. “Enough talk. Let’s get in the pods and chat in ‘Heavenly Feast Paradise.’”

With that, he helped Yin Jian open one gaming pod, then climbed into the other himself.

Yin Jian didn’t hesitate. He lay down, activated the pod, and synced his consciousness to the virtual network, clicking to enter the “Heavenly Feast Paradise.”

“Heavenly Feast Paradise” was a reality game.

Back in university, having aspired to become an operator at a listed game company, Yin Jian was naturally very familiar with it.

The game’s theme was to let people enjoy delicacies from every corner of the universe.

It had been running for seventy years.

From its humble beginnings with just a few food streets, it had grown into a vast culinary empire spanning many star systems.

The manpower and resources invested were astronomical.

And the profits, surely, were no less impressive.

However, with an entry ticket priced at 18,888 credits, this was Yin Jian’s first time experiencing it firsthand.

Previously, he could only watch recordings made by others at school, studying and pondering its operating model.

Despite the steep ticket price, the game still drew countless visitors every day.

Yin Jian clicked his tongue—reality games were simply too lucrative.

Someday, when he had the capital, he’d make one himself.

As these thoughts flitted through his mind, his consciousness fully linked to the “Heavenly Feast Paradise” server.

Suddenly, his vision brightened.

A small, blue-and-white space appeared before him.

[Scanning body data…]

[Scan successful]

[Creating character…]

The three prompts faded quickly after appearing.

As the notifications disappeared, thick black smoke began to pour from the ceiling of the compact room.

Soon, the entire space was blanketed.

Yin Jian watched curiously.

His deep knowledge of reality games told him that these black plumes were, in fact, countless robots, each only the size of an atom.

This technology, called “Bio-Eco Simulation,” allowed them to freely combine and mimic most objects in the universe.

It was one of the pinnacle achievements of current science.

The haze in the room swiftly condensed, and before long, these “Bio-Eco Simulation” units vanished, forming a black silhouette identical to Yin Jian in appearance and attire.

At that moment, Yin Jian felt his consciousness being drawn in.

His vision went black, and when he opened his eyes again, he found himself standing in the blue-and-white room.

“This sensation…”

He clenched his fist, then jumped experimentally.

“This truly is black magic,” he murmured, marveling at this new body, indistinguishable from his own.

Even though he’d watched this process in videos hundreds of times, the experience itself was still awe-inspiring.

Click, click, click—

“Welcome to Heavenly Feast Paradise!”

“If you have any questions, simply call on Xiao Mei in your mind.”

“We wish you a delightful meal!”

As the door to the room opened, a melodious woman’s voice sounded in his ear.

This was Xiao Mei, the advanced AI overseeing the entire game.

Hearing this, Yin Jian stepped outside, and the black coloration of his body instantly transformed into his natural skin tone as he crossed the threshold.

Of course, if he wished, he could change his appearance to any color, or even use “Bio-Eco Simulation” to sprout other features.

“Yin, come on, let’s go,” Zhou Shun called.

Yin Jian looked up to see Zhou Shun waving him over.

“Coming,” he replied, following Zhou Shun out of the character creation area and into Xiahua City within the park.

The city itself was shaped like a giant hotpot—a vivid reflection of the Xiahua Star Domain’s love for spicy food.

Zhou Shun didn’t lead Yin Jian on a random tour of the city, since the food court entrance ticket was time-limited; it made more sense to eat their barbecue first, then explore later.

P.S.: Filling in some world-building here. Also, I got my second shot today, so I didn’t write much. The next chapter will be a bit late.