Apocalypse Forecast

Chapter 609: Chapter 507: Dust Settles (Thanks to Liu ChengJi, the Alliance Leader)_1

The course was very successful, even beyond what Huai Shi had imagined. What he didn’t expect was that, outside the classroom, this course had also sparked an unexpected craze within the Ivory Tower.

Exploring Hell was like descending into a pitch-black abyss while hanging from a rope.

Once you left the border, you could never know what might be waiting for you below. You could never be too prepared, and sometimes, even with complete preparation, you might encounter unexpected situations.

Even the most powerful Sublimators are, after all, human. Humans have weaknesses, and even the strong have their shortcomings. The only advantages Sublimators had over ordinary people, besides possessing a Soul and resistance to Hell’s erosion, were the various abilities derived from Stigmas.

Even Sublimators from the Heavenly Kingdom Genealogy, specialized in the Abyss, sometimes stumbled over an inconspicuous detail during their explorations.

In some areas of Hell, once the lights went out, everything would be devoured by darkness. In other places, even the slightest light or sound could attract unimaginable, horrific Predators.

In Hell’s ever-changing or eternally unvarying environment, to survive longer and return victorious, caution that looked ten steps ahead, experience bought with blood, sweat, and tears, and sufficient preparation were paramount.

At times, Power had to take a backseat.

Under these circumstances, every Explorer could be called a master of wilderness survival, filled with an instinctual yearning for any Skills that could help them survive better.

Take, for example, Huai Shi’s Hell cooking class.

The contents weren’t exceptional; many were things he had learned from Phoenix Lucian of the archaeological team. Research on the edibility of Abyss plants was not uncommon; otherwise, people would not have known what they could eat.

But what was truly rare was knowing which common plants in Hell, usually inedible, could actually be consumed when necessary—and how to eat them safely.

For a long time, these tricks and secrets had circulated only among Explorers, not widely publicized or openly shared, sometimes contradicting each other and even containing errors.

All Huai Shi did was rely on his expertise in botany and Hell cooking to re-evaluate and reorganize them. When it came to finding ingredients in the Abyss, there was nothing a Hell Kitchen Demon didn’t excel at.

After combining the experiences of his predecessor Lucian and the suggestions from Ryuzanbo, the head of Tengu Mountain, Huai Shi compiled forty-one processing methods.

If one wanted, they could certainly have found more, safer, and even more diverse menus, but doing so would have largely been pointless.

No Chef Demon Skills were needed. Ordinary Sublimators should be able to understand and use them. Even without tools, they could make do with a simple fire.

No obscure ingredients were required, just the most common plant types from every region—even those fast-growing types for which you could simply carry a bag of seeds and scatter them somewhere.

It needed to be simple, convenient, foolproof, and safe. The goal was to avoid dying while trying to survive. Taste and texture were secondary considerations.

So, it was expected that the stuff would taste awful...

After class, the courageous students who came up to try it were carried out, crying their eyes out and babbling nonsense; it seemed the shock they received was extraordinary.

Huai Shi had not anticipated that the vice-principal would not be furious with him for adding his own unauthorized material. The vice-principal just gave Huai Shi a deep look and left.

His expression was habitually impassive, always inscrutable—though Huai Shi always felt he looked perpetually angry.

Better not to provoke him.

Then, that same afternoon, Huai Shi’s doorbell was nearly pressed to pieces.

First, students and advising teachers from the school’s Hell Hiking Society and Abyss Extreme Survival Society came to visit, asking him to teach special classes. Before they had finished, several cooks from the cafeteria had already arrived at his door, wanting to learn and eager to join in.

Not long after, the head of a Yingzhou Izakaya visited, respectfully handing over his business card. He said that Brother Ryuzanbo had sent him, instructing that Mr. Huai Shi was about to undertake an important venture and that he was to lend a hand—even if just to serve tea and water. Later on, representatives from Dongxia Baiyulou, America’s Holiday Café, and all four of the school’s registered Chef Demons collectively paid a visit.

Even the Hell Kitchen Demon Competition Committee made a special phone call, their voices full of laughter that hinted at their sheer delight, saying, ”Mr. Huai Shi, your idea is NICE! You should really go big with it! Vigorously promote our Hell’s culinary culture among the young Sublimators...”

After they obtained Huai Shi’s recipes, they reminded him to quickly produce a complete version and then swiftly upgraded his Chef Demon license by one star.

He, a novice Chef Demon, had inexplicably become a one-star just like that?

Even though he didn’t understand what was happening, Huai Shi couldn’t turn away such an opportunity when it knocked on his door.

After all, he had merely initiated it and contributed his ideas. Then, the official Chef Demons and several Explorers, who had come from various places, began brainstorming collectively. In the end, even the archaeological team joined in, sending a representative.

Two weeks later, right before the current issue of the magazine *Hell Survival Guide* was due to be released, a temporary supplement was unexpectedly published: an eight-hundred-page supplement titled ”Have You Eaten?”, which included four hundred seventeen simple Abyss cuisine recipes that wouldn’t kill you.

The title page even featured a half-body portrait of Huai Shi grinning foolishly.

Well, he was the first to start, and he had the best image...

It was said that subsequent publications were also in development, and many pioneering training institutions had already designated it as one of their textbooks. After assessment, all participants would be able to equally share a Correction Value of 0.03 over the next five years.

The Chef Demon competition committee also took this opportunity to make their presence felt and opened up a small, lower-end market for Hell Kitchen Demon Skills, which were originally highly exclusive.

Subsequent business plans unfolded in an orderly fashion, but these matters no longer concerned Huai Shi. He had simply initiated the movement; getting a share of the Correction Value was already good enough. If any manufacturer took an interest in mass-producing his recipes, he might make more money, but for the immediate future, he had no intention of dealing with these matters.

For two weeks, he had been running himself ragged, shuttling between his classroom and the temporary office he had requested from the school. He was exhausted but had neglected neither responsibility.

But more importantly—since the start of the school term, a month had already passed.

The recipient of the sole official classroom spot was about to be revealed.

But there was no suspense remaining.

Apart from Huai Shi, who had accomplished so much since enrollment, who else possessed a competitive edge?

He had lain low for the first half of the month. Then, he suddenly decimated the Howler’s Sea Fishing Club, leaving a permanent shadow in the innocent hearts of many and even causing a teacher to be sent to Shambhala for recuperation.

In the latter half of the month, he not only achieved results under the usually stern and disapproving vice-principal but also advanced to a one-star Chef Demon. He virtually started a new course in the Ivory Tower and contributed greatly to Hell exploration. The archaeological team was even considering giving Huai Shi a nomination for this year’s annual Explorer awards.

Though it was destined to be just a nomination, receiving one was already a tremendous honor.

Consider the monstrous caliber of competitors for Explorer of the Year this year: there was archaeological expert Lucian, who had recently confronted the twenty-fourth depth of Hell and unearthed an Authority Relic from the Eternal Dark Nation; the legendary Lone Ranger Sugoikanjo, who, through the exploration of the Arkad Rainbow Golden Ancient Ship, brought about the revival of the Sumerian Genealogy; and archaeologist Robin Delanat, who dedicated his life to Abyss exploration and perished in Hell. Not to mention Natural Enemy Chu Hai, who regularly produced heavyweight papers and archaeological discoveries each year.

Merely basking in the reflected glory of these great figures at the bottom of the hundred-name list was already an immense honor.

Under such circumstances, even if the entire teaching and research office had turned a blind eye, they could not have justified giving the official classroom spot to anyone but Huai Shi.

Otherwise, not only would Huai Shi have been discontent, but the person receiving the spot might as well have resigned. They all valued their reputations, after all. Why would they want to suffer such humiliation?

Moreover, the teaching and research office had never been prejudiced against Huai Shi.

Therefore, after comparing the performances of the new teachers, they made the correct choice without any surprise. It was hardly worth anyone being shocked or offering praise.

In the face of such absolute achievements, making this decision didn’t require a brilliant mind; anyone with eyes could see who would ultimately win.

Meanwhile, a sad little episode occurred.

The youngest scholar ever, thirteen-year-old Mr. Martin, registered as Liquify, had been eliminated in the first round—by his own teacher, no less.

He didn’t even make it to the final round.

After all, age was a factor. While people might accept an eighteen-year-old adult like Huai Shi, how many would be comfortable with a thirteen-year-old boy as their teacher?

Even setting aside his age, Martin was not an easy person to get along with, and students could rarely keep up with his train of thought.

This was a sorrow perhaps only a genius could feel: besides other teachers, no one could understand his lessons. His contempt for ignorance and aversion to stupidity further diminished his already scarce number of students.

In the end, without anyone needing to point it out, even he himself understood: he simply lacked the talent to be a teacher.

Or at least not yet.

Thus, when Huai Shi stepped up to receive his award, the gaze Martin fixed on him was incredibly sharp, filled with frustration, resentment, and stubbornness, his eyes turning red.

Amidst the applause of his teaching and research office colleagues, Huai Shi held his trophy. As he turned to step down from the stage, tranquilly composed, he paused beside Martin. He couldn’t resist stopping for a moment to pat the boy empathetically on the shoulder and offer some gentle comfort.

Observing Martin’s defiant expression, Huai Shi couldn’t help but sigh. He then offered with a smile, ”Do you want to touch my trophy?”