I Am Your Natural Enemy

Chapter 1 - 1 Soul

On a single-person computer desk, heavily dusted with cigarette ash, the screen flickered faintly. The keyboard was greasy, the letters on the WASD keys were worn away, and the ashtray overflowed with cigarette butts, resembling a hedgehog.

Nearby, a computer case, also coated with a thin layer of ash, housed fans straining at their limits, howling hoarsely.

In a vast metallic hall spanning hundreds of square meters, only this single computer desk stood at the center—a typical, stinky gaming PC.

The keyboard, placed askew and untouched, had keys that seemed to press themselves, while the mouse darted around in a small area as if guided by a pro gamer.

On the low-resolution game screen, a line of text floated.

”The world boss is about to descend.”

Below it, a countdown timer ticked away.

”3:0:1:47”

Outside the sealed hall, a group of people with solemn expressions watched the surveillance footage.

A label above the footage read: ”No. 007, Doomsday Computer.”

”Found any clues?”

”No clues whatsoever.”

After that brief exchange, a deathly silence fell. No one else spoke, all of them staring intently at the monitors.

When the countdown on the monitor changed to ”3:0:0:0”, the pixelated text above it flickered.

”The world boss, Soul Devouring Beast, is about to descend upon Duanzhou.”

The moment they saw the name, a young man immediately took out a metal box labeled ”No. 097” and retrieved a wolf-hair brush from inside.

From another wooden box labeled ”No. 098”, he took out a yellowing piece of cowhide paper.

The young man wrote the words ”Soul Devouring Beast” on the cowhide paper.

Instantly, his eyes turned pure white, his serious expression became vacant, and one hand, guided by the brush, continued to write on the cowhide.

”Soul Devouring Beast.

Trait One: Devouring.

Devouring souls.

Trait Two: Immune.

Immune to physical damage, immune to elemental damage, immune to environmental damage, immune to mental damage, immune to sustained damage, immune to toxin damage, immune to...”

Even when the cowhide paper was nearly filled, the writing was still incomplete.

Finally, all the script vanished, and a few words reappeared beneath the name ”Soul Devouring Beast”.

”Sole trait, Invincible.”

The next moment, the cowhide spontaneously ignited, instantly turning to ash.

By the time two people carried the unconscious young man out, only the low hum of machinery remained in the room. Everyone looked grim and stayed silent. Finally, someone asked in a low voice,

”Should we start organizing an evacuation immediately?”

「...」

「Three days later.」

Wen Yan, holding disposable chopsticks, sat with his back straight. Eyes wide with disbelief, he pointed at the dish on the table.

”You say this is water-boiled beef? An improved version?”

Across from him, the plump chef in an apron struggled to contain his impatience, his eyebrows twitching. He finally snapped at Wen Yan’s question.

”What’s the problem? This is the most authentic method! Authentic!”

Wen Yan picked up a piece of beef. It was cut to an ideal thickness, the grain expertly sliced to ensure tenderness and retain its juices perfectly. The cooking was spot on: smooth and succulent, not at all tough. It had a robust base flavor that didn’t overpower the prominent, fresh savoriness of the beef—undoubtedly the freshest, highest-quality beef available that day.

But the problem was, on top of the large bowl of the dish, there were only a few sparse dots of oil.

No chili could be seen, no green Sichuan peppercorns characteristic of the season, no signature layer of oil, nor the characteristic pungent aroma.

”After taking it out of the pot, shouldn’t you add knife-cut chilies and minced garlic, then pour hot oil over it?

For this season, adding some green Sichuan peppercorns would be most appropriate...

Forget it, no matter how much you ’improve’ it, you still have to pour oil over it, right?

Isn’t this step what truly brings out the soul of water-boiled beef?”

Wen Yan could no longer hold back his frustration. Without this step, wasn’t it literally just water-boiled vegetables?

Of course, if it had been inexpensive, he could have tolerated anything.

He had just landed a decent job and decided to splurge, celebrating at the restaurant by ordering a 68-yuan portion of water-boiled beef.

But this was it? To charge him 68 yuan for this?! He couldn’t stomach it.

As he spoke, the portly chef’s eyelids began to twitch uncontrollably, his barely contained rage threatening to erupt.

”What did you say? What’s wrong with this method? This is the authentic, standard Tianfu recipe! We never pour oil!”

The fat chef clenched his fists, the words ”Tianfu Restaurant” emblazoned on his apron seeming to tremble with his anger.

The other patrons couldn’t help but look over.

One of them couldn’t resist chiming in.

”This place’s water-boiled beef is absolutely authentic; the taste hasn’t changed in decades.”

Once one person spoke up, other curious diners immediately chimed in.

”This is the restaurant’s signature dish...”

”Yes, this dish is the tastiest and most authentic.”

Wen Yan looked around, let out a sigh of resignation, stood up, and paid the bill.

He glanced back at the water-boiled beef and said weakly,

”Pack it up, to go.”

It was 68 yuan, after all; wasting it was out of the question.

After getting it packed, Wen Yan left the restaurant and headed home. The more he thought about it, the more he felt something was missing, something was just not right.

Picking up his keys, he made a beeline for the market. He bought some fresh green Sichuan peppercorns unique to the season, a small bottle of canola oil, some chilies, and garlic.

Once home, he first scrubbed his rusty wok clean and reseasoned it. Then, he added a bit of oil, the dried chilies, and a few Sichuan peppercorns. He stir-fried them over low heat until they were fragrant and on the verge of scorching, then finely chopped the chilies.

He minced some garlic, mixed it with the chopped chilies, and sprinkled the mixture over the water-boiled beef. Next, he heated up some more canola oil, tossed in a few green Sichuan peppercorns, and just as their aroma bloomed, he poured the sizzling oil over the dish.

Instantly, the familiar, mouthwatering aromas of peppercorn, char, and garlic assaulted his senses.

He picked up a slice of beef. The fragrance seemed to swirl from his mouth up into his nasal passage and back down again, a symphony of numbing, spicy, fresh, and savory notes—so tantalizingly hot he wouldn’t dream of spitting it out.

Wen Yan’s furrowed brows relaxed completely.

After devouring two bowls of rice, finishing every last bit of the side dishes, and even soaking half a bowl of rice in the remaining sauce, Wen Yan collapsed on the couch, utterly content.

”What on earth is going on these days...”

He had woken up, and the world had changed.

For breakfast, the familiar shop no longer served its tofu pudding with savory gravy. There was no chili oil or cilantro, only bland, sweet-style tofu pudding.

The owner had looked surprised when Wen Yan asked to add pepper soup to his tofu pudding.

Of course, the customer is king, so the shop owner had reluctantly agreed.

The owner valued his reputation. He didn’t comment on the out-of-towner’s peculiar request and only charged for one serving.

Next door, the thirty-year-old bun shop no longer served their secret spicy oil, though their sign still advertised ”Oil-Filled Buns.”

At the shop selling crispy beef pastries, the pastries lacked their signature crispy, spiral crust reminiscent of a mosquito coil.

For lunch, he went to a Guanzhong noodle shop for some hot oil noodles and found no garlic on the table. When he asked the owner for some, the owner looked at him curiously and asked, ”Where are you from? Does it really taste good that way?”

By the afternoon, faced with this plate of water-boiled beef, Wen Yan could no longer hold it in.

It felt as if his most familiar way of life had been torn apart.

On his way back earlier, he’d seen a place called ”Charcoal Grilled Pig’s Trotters.” The distant sight of the barbecue grill’s indicator light had been enough to make him steer clear.

In just one day, the world had become unrecognizable.

Looking around, all the foods he loved seemed to have... lost their soul.