As soon as the words fell, a rich aroma exploded in the air, quickly spreading all around.

Richard Thompson's expression also changed in surprise. He saw that the large intestines were gradually turning golden, glistening with oil, while the small intestines were also taking on a golden hue, but their twisted shapes looked just like potato chips—crispy on the outside and tender inside. He couldn't help but swallow. Wow... what... what kind of animal is this? The meat is so good?

While he was still in a daze, he suddenly heard heavy breathing. Looking up, he saw seven or eight little kids kneeling and lying in front of him, their big, bright eyes wide open, little noses twitching, mouths smacking nonstop, drool streaming down their chins. But since they were so young, they looked more cute than anything else.

But the problem was, the adults around weren't much better. Every one of them stared wide-eyed at Richard Thompson—no, at the once-despised stinky stuff on the stone slab. Their faces looked a bit ferocious, and their drool was pouring down just like animals, making no effort to hide their hunger.

This actually surprised Richard Thompson. Wow! You guys don't have to be so dramatic. It's really gross!

Chapter 4: This is practically tempting people to commit a crime!

Gross as it was, Richard Thompson was actually quite happy inside, because this kind of blatant, undisguised ugliness told him that his chances of staying had just gotten a lot better.

Although this dish might not taste that great to him—after all, the ingredients and time were extremely limited, and he hadn't put much effort into it—this was probably the most half-hearted dish he'd ever made in his life. Still, it was also something he'd never eaten before. As a chef—and a foodie, albeit with higher standards—he wanted to try something new. Only after tasting it could he make it even better.

"Very soon, very soon you'll be able to eat. Let me just check if it's cooked."

Richard Thompson smiled at the little kids and said this, but seeing that they didn't react at all, he ignored them, picked up a piece of fatty large intestine. The golden intestine was held between branches, still trembling, juices about to drip out, looking incredibly appetizing.

He couldn't help but open his mouth slightly, but suddenly, a hint of hesitation appeared between his brows. He thought to himself, Will eating this give me diarrhea? None of the tools here are clean, not even my knife.

He wasn't a man with a cleanliness obsession, but as a chef, his standards for hygiene—especially in the kitchen—were definitely much higher than most people's.

Just as he hesitated, a voice suddenly barked, "What are you doing?"

Richard Thompson looked up and saw the old woman glaring at him with furrowed brows. He hurriedly explained, "I... I just wanted to see if it was cooked."

The old woman said sternly, "This is food for our Blackstone Valley. You're not one of us yet, so you can't eat our food."

The others nodded in unison like robots, but their eyes were glued to the food on the stone slab. Clearly, they weren't stupid—there were more people than meat. If he ate an extra piece, they'd get one less.

Richard Thompson forced a smile. "Sorry, I didn't know the rules here. Well—then you all eat. I think it's done roasting. I'll... I'll just keep cooking, you eat." He added silently in his heart, You guys sure have no shame eating this.

But seeing their drool, Richard Thompson felt there was no need to talk about pride. Survival was the most important thing.

The young man immediately rushed over with a big leaf, using a branch to sweep all the food off the stone slab. In just a moment, not even a crumb was left.

He first brought the delicious food to the old woman, but she looked lovingly at the little kids whose drool was almost dried up and said, "Let them eat first."

The little kids immediately ran over, their big, bright eyes fixed on the young man.

The young man seemed a bit reluctant, but still lowered his hands.

The little kids instantly reached out to grab.

Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!

A series of crisp smacks rang out as the little kids all pulled their hands back at once, rubbing their reddened hands, pouting, and looking at the young man with teary eyes.

The young man glared at them, then grabbed a handful of innards and tossed it far away. The little kids immediately dashed after it.

"Mine!"

"This is mine!"

"Get out of my way!"

"Ouch! Hey! You kicked my nose!"

"Ah! Don't bite my ear."

...

The little kids were like a pack of wolf pups chasing after food, fighting, kicking, and tearing at each other. Whoever got the food stuffed it straight into their mouth, their faces tense with concentration as they chewed, then licked their palms over and over. Two or three even crawled on the ground, sniffing around as if searching for any scraps left behind. But with their skills, how could there be any leftovers? Even more outrageous, two little kids pressed their hands on the ground, stuck their butts in the air, each biting one end of a large intestine, neither willing to let go, glaring at each other and growling low in their throats.