Chương 17: Eat! You Must Eat Your Fill!

You Must Eat Your Fill!

Since breaching modern security doors proved too difficult, Vince decided to resort to the time-honored tradition of burglars and sneak thieves everywhere: going through the window. Because this was an older building, the ceilings were quite low—less than three meters high. Looking down from a sixth-floor window, the drop to the fifth-floor window below was essentially just the height of the balcony wall, slightly over a meter.

If he secured a rope to the external AC unit bracket, he would only need about two meters of slack to make the drop. Vince walked over to 602. The layout was identical, meaning window rappelling was theoretically viable on both sides. Besides, his physical strength now far exceeded what it used to be. He grabbed the upper doorframe of the apartment and tested it. Engaging his arm and core muscles, he effortlessly pulled his entire body weight up.

Based on this, both his upper body strength and grip strength were more than sufficient to support a rope descent. The only problem was that he hadn't found a suitable rope in that pile of old boxes. The delivery rider's apartment had a few bungee cords used for strapping takeout boxes to a scooter, but they were neither long enough nor strong enough to bear human weight. Who keeps five meters of heavy-duty nylon rope lying around their house anyway? Were they planning to hang themselves?

He had some electrical wire down in the clinic, but that wouldn't work either. If he put his full body weight on it, the rubber casing would strip right off the copper core. He did have some nylon rope in the clinic, but it was usually just used to tie up dog cages and wasn't very long. It was all cut into short segments...

"Dog... ah!" Thinking of dog cages, Vince suddenly remembered a forgotten corner of his clinic that might actually have exactly what he needed! He practically flew down the stairs from the sixth floor all the way to the first, charging straight into the clinic's storage room and rummaging through the back. Finally, tucked away in the darkest corner of a bottom shelf, he found it: a box of dog leashes he had ordered when he first opened the clinic, of which he hadn't sold a single one!

They were high-quality, heavy-duty nylon dog leashes, nearly two meters long each. And he had a whole box of ten! Running a business was often like that. Customers might not buy certain things, but you couldn't afford not to stock them. The people who owned dogs in this neighborhood were mostly thrifty retirees. They'd use the same leash for ten years; the dog would pass away, and the leash would still be around.

Furthermore, in an era where even eighty-year-olds knew how to use Pinduoduo, Vince's twenty-yuan leashes couldn't possibly compete with the app's "4. 90 yuan with free shipping" deals. Thus, they had sat unsold for half a year.

"Vince... food's ready." Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed down the stairwell, followed by Claire's voice.

"What are you looking for down here? I was just about to call you for lunch when I heard you stomping all the way down." Vince turned around to see Claire. Her hair was pinned up elegantly, and she was wearing a large, gray apron, looking curiously at the cardboard box in his hands.

"Uh... nothing. Found what I needed." This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work. He glanced at the [66/100] floating above her head. It seemed cooking had put her in a good mood; her HP was recovering at a steady pace.

"I am actually starving. Let's eat first. I'll need your help with something after." Since they had formed a survival alliance, Vince was naturally going to ruthlessly exploit his sole laborer....

"Smells incredible..." Even though it was just simple home-style cooking, the moment Vince stepped through the door, the rich, mouth-watering aroma of the food hit him.

"Claire, your cooking skills are insane!" Vince praised earnestly, practically leaning over the table to inhale the scent of the dishes. This was leagues better than his own cooking. In such a short time, she had whipped up three stir-fries and a soup. If he had known she was this good, he would have made her cook the noodles this morning, too. Hearing Vince's praise, and seeing that it was completely genuine, Claire felt a warm bloom of happiness in her chest.

She scooped a massive, heaping bowl of rice for Vince and handed it to him with a radiant smile.

"Back when I was super stressed, I'd go into the kitchen and learn how to cook from the chef. Before I knew it, I had picked up a lot of recipes..."

"This is just because we lack ingredients. If we had the right stuff, I'd make you some proper banquet dishes to build your strength..."

"The chef?" Vince caught the unusual term and asked casually.

"You had a chef in your house?" Claire's cooking was undeniably delicious. Although there were only three dishes, the portions were massive. Under normal circumstances, this would be enough to feed two people for three meals. Though she was confident in her culinary skills, everyone's tastes were different. Seeing that the food perfectly suited Vince's palate, Claire finally relaxed. She served herself a very small bowl of rice, clearly still full from her heavy breakfast.

"A chef... my family used to run a restaurant. Just a small one..." Claire hesitated for a fraction of a second before explaining.

"Oh, oh, that's great. No wonder you cook so well." Vince didn't press the issue, entirely focused on inhaling the food like a whirlwind. Ever since the apocalypse began and he awakened his ability, his appetite had grown exponentially. Even Claire found it slightly bewildering. Vince had such a lean, fit physique—where was he putting all this food? What was originally enough to last them three meals was already scraping the bottom of the plates......

Thoroughly stuffed, Vince pulled up a stool and sat by the windowsill. It had been a long time since he'd had a meal this good, and without realizing it, he had eaten to the point of bursting. As the sages say: When it comes to food, you must eat your fill! And the profound secret to eating your fill lies in asking for seconds. And the secret to asking for seconds naturally lies in having a gorgeous woman serve it to you...

While fiddling with the radio and trying to tune into a signal, Vince watched Claire clear the table in her apron. The oversized apron completely covered the front of her slip dress. From his seated angle, it looked entirely as though she were wearing nothing underneath......

"Vince, what was it you needed my help with?" Claire asked from the kitchen as she washed the dishes. Her question jogged Vince's memory. He still had actual work to do. He hadn't slept much last night, and sitting here with a full stomach was making him drowsy. He splashed some cold water on his face in the bathroom to wake himself up, then dumped the box of dog leashes onto the coffee table. Claire dried her hands and walked over, inspecting the pile of leashes.

"Vince, why do you have so many dog leashes? What are these for?" Vince realized he hadn't briefed her on his plan yet. He quickly explained his intention to rappel down from the sixth-floor windows. The color immediately drained from Claire's face.

"Ah?! No, no, no! What if something goes wrong?! Can these dog leashes even hold your weight?!" It was obvious Claire was genuinely panicking. If something happened to Vince, what would she do all alone?

"If I have a 'little accident,' all this food is yours. Aren't you happy?" Vince teased, taking advantage of the moment.

"You bastard!" Claire knew he was just joking, but her mind was entirely consumed by how reckless his plan sounded.

"Is it really worth risking your life just to clear out the zombies in the building? If we keep the security doors shut, they can't get out anyway..." Of course, Vince wasn't doing this just to clear the building. The crucial factor was that killing zombies yielded loot drops and increased his Max HP. Having the opportunity to farm zombies in a controlled, enclosed environment was infinitely safer than fighting them out on the open streets... But there was no need to explain all that to Claire.

"Look on the bright side... Trust me, these leashes are incredibly sturdy. They're designed to hold back Tibetan Mastiffs." Vince uncoiled one of the leashes to show her. The entire box consisted of identical specs: thick, heavy-duty nylon ropes, each over a centimeter in diameter.

"As long as we pick out the stitching on the ends..." He grabbed a box cutter and began carefully slicing the heavy thread holding the handle loop and the metal collar clasp in place, being meticulous not to damage the nylon rope itself.