Chapter Seven: I Am Going to Start a Farm!

The abilities of the cards are determined in two ways. The first is the card’s quality: a white-quality card comes with one innate skill, and each improvement in quality adds one more skill. These abilities are predetermined, requiring no additional effort, and their types and effects cannot be chosen. The second way is through rank and skill cards. At first rank, a card can learn one skill, and with each rank gained, it can learn another. These are acquired postnatally; their types and effects are selectable, but you must seek out the skill cards yourself.

With a blade in hand, Lu Sheng charged forward. The goblins, upon seeing the group advancing, screeched and rushed to attack as well. Their green skin and ugly features were unsettling to behold. After three days of battle, Lu Sheng was no longer the fledgling he once was. Possessed by the Space-Time Ant, his strength increased tenfold. He swung the back of his blade down onto the wooden club the goblin had hurled at him. He would never use the edge in a direct clash and risk chipping it—this was, after all, his first weapon.

A tremendous force crashed down on the goblin’s club, transferring into its arm. Instantly, the goblin’s grip split open, green blood oozing out. The goblin howled in pain, releasing the club, which was sent flying by the impact, crashing into the goblin’s tent and leaving a gaping hole.

Lu Sheng would not let this opportunity slip by. As the goblin shrieked, he brought his blade down once more.

A spurt of green blood stained the ground, and a severed head rolled alongside the spreading pool.

[Goblin Card +1]

The first one!

He looked up at the remaining lively goblins, his eyes flashing with a greenish light. With a determined stride, he charged at another goblin. His Space-Time Ant’s quality was inherently red; even now, though reduced to the ordinary, it was still superior to other life cards of the same rank. The tenfold strength placed him at a terrifying level. Only those who had perfected the first rank, whose life cards continuously strengthened them, could compare in raw power. Of course, a perfected first-rank individual still had their life card’s assistance, but in pure strength alone, Lu Sheng could now contend with them.

The fight raged on. Most of the goblins were early first rank; two mid-rank and one late-rank goblin had already been engaged by the stronger members of the team.

Lu Sheng and his group only needed to deal with the remaining early first-rank goblins. After a fierce battle, the goblins were wiped out, leaving puddles of green liquid scattered across the ground. Along the way, Lu Sheng was lucky enough to obtain another early first-rank source pearl. Today, he had slain eight goblins in total; no one fought harder or with more energy than he did.

He casually selected a goblin to absorb its vitality, strengthening his life card once more.

Mu Kui approached Lu Sheng, watching him gasp for breath, and offered a reminder: “Lu Sheng, speed isn’t the most important thing when fighting monsters. You need to make good use of technique and strategy. I’ve noticed you always go all out; it may end fights more quickly, but it’s also a waste of strength. Remember, never use ten times the force when one will do. In this dangerous world, you must always conserve your energy—you never know what you’ll face next.”

Lu Sheng paused. Having received nine years of compulsory education, he understood Mu Kui’s point and quickly grasped the reasoning behind it. “I understand. At first, I just thought going all out would end the battles faster, and didn’t think much beyond that.”

Seeing Lu Sheng’s earnest expression, Mu Kui knew his advice had been taken to heart and was pleased. The worst is when a well-meaning warning is wasted on someone who doesn’t appreciate it—it can be maddening. Were it not for Lu Sheng’s decent character, and the fact that he was his roommate, Mu Kui wouldn’t have bothered meddling in others’ affairs. In this apocalyptic world, after all, anyone’s death has little to do with oneself.

When the battle ended, they began to clear the field. Monsters did drop items, but one shouldn’t mistake this for a game world. Looting was still necessary—these so-called “instances” were not virtual, nor did items appear out of thin air. According to ten years of experience in the apocalypse, these instances were actually entire segments relocated from the monster world.

After a round of scavenging, they found nothing but some animal hides and special wood needed for the settlement. Lu Sheng couldn’t understand why goblins, so greedy by nature, were always so poor. Was it simply because they were outmatched? On closer thought, it seemed likely—dragons were just as greedy, but their immense power allowed them to amass treasures.

As they left the instance, Shi Jiu called everyone together. “Today our task is to find pigweed for the Fangtooth Pigs. Lu Sheng, you probably lack experience; here, read this Fangtooth Pig Breeding Manual.”

Lu Sheng took the manual from Shi Jiu and fell deep into thought.

Monsters could be bred?

Bred?

Really?

Did this mean he wouldn’t have to go out hunting anymore? He could just open a pig farm, raise creatures that breed easily, and become a livestock tycoon—wasn’t that the dream? Killing monsters? Why risk his life, toiling and sweating, when he could lie low, breed monsters, and become an overlord before venturing out? In an instant, all the classic tales of leveling up through battle, becoming a supreme master, adventuring and winning treasures and beauties, were overturned in his mind.

He wanted to raise monsters!

To become strong, start by raising pigs!

But Lu Sheng quickly calmed down—breeding wasn’t so simple. He’d have to consider the pigs’ food, the breeding site, and the necessary conditions. Moreover, the settlement was a communal place; going into business alone was clearly impossible. Suddenly, the place that had made him feel so safe now seemed like an obstacle.

No matter. He put these thoughts aside and turned his attention to the breeding manual. It didn’t say much—just listed which plants Fangtooth Pigs could or couldn’t eat, and what to watch out for when collecting them.

Now Lu Sheng had another question. He approached Mu Kui.

“If Fangtooth Pigs can be bred, why did we slaughter all the ones we met last time?”

“Oh, that,” Mu Kui replied. “Breeding isn’t as simple as it sounds. First, you have to tame their wildness, then carefully calm and care for them, and finally see if they can adapt to captivity. It’s a lot of work. Most importantly, our settlement already has enough Fangtooth Pigs; we don’t need any more.”

“You only needed to say that last part, not the whole process.”

“But I wanted you to understand better.”

With that, the team set out to cut grass. Such tasks were always assigned to the combat teams—gathering grass could be dangerous, as monsters might appear at any moment. Only the utterly safe chores within the settlement were left to those without combat ability.