Germain and his group spent several hours in the "Dry Valley," experimenting with anything that looked edible, like ancient herbalists testing plants.
Each time, Buhara would taste the food first to ensure it was safe. Then, Menchi, a gourmet, and Germain, an ordinary foodie, would give their opinions.
Bisky, the "Gem Hunter," judged food mainly by its appearance, refusing to try anything that looked too strange.
After filling up on "grape spider eggs," Bisky became completely satisfied.
As the day went on, the sun set, and darkness crept in until they found themselves fully surrounded by night.
Buhara gathered more dry firewood from the area, poured oil from some unknown animal onto it, and finally used Germain's "flamethrower" to light the fire.
"The bonfire party has begun," Bisky joked as she snapped a picture with her camera. She turned to Germain and asked, "What time is it now?"
Germain pulled out a pocket watch from his black robe, glanced at it, and replied, "It's just after 11 a.m. in the human world."
"Only 11 hours have passed," Bisky sighed. It felt like more than 20 hours had gone by. "It's been dark for a while. Here, it's probably between 5 and 7 p.m., right?"
"Less than 5 hours remain," Menchi said, sounding a bit regretful. "It's a shame Germain doesn't have a new 'lantern,' so we can't explore further."
"That's too dangerous," Buhara warned with a burp.
Menchi nodded. "I know, I'm just venting. Well, let's make the most of the remaining time and try the last two dishes."
One dish had been cooking in a pot for almost two hours, and it was finally ready. Menchi walked over and lifted the lid.
The aroma instantly filled the air, even making Bisky, who was already full, peek into the pot.
Inside was something with a streamlined nose, squinting eyes, and large ears—it resembled a sheep's head.
The pot Buhara carried was quite large, covering his entire back, but the sheep's head took up almost half of it, nearly overflowing.
A few hours earlier, the group had hunted a giant beast that resembled a sheep. They discarded most of the parts, keeping only the sheep's head. Now, they needed to taste the tongue to confirm if it was truly a sheep.
"This looks promising," Menchi's eyes sparkled with excitement. She quickly instructed, "Buhara, take it out and give it a try."
Buhara's digestion was impressive. Even though he had just burped, the sight of the massive sheep's head reignited his hunger.
He plunged his hands into the boiling, greasy soup and pulled out the huge sheep's head. Taking a few quick steps, he placed it on a chopping board that lay on the ground.
As soon as it was set down, the meat on the sheep's head, now tender from cooking, began to fall off. Buhara only needed to give it a light wipe, and a large piece fell into his palm.
"I'm eating it now," he declared, eager to taste the meat with his "Gluttony."
"How is it?" Menchi asked anxiously. It smelled good to her, but she wasn't sure if it tasted right or if it was even edible.
After swallowing the meat, Buhara gave everyone a thumbs up. "It's good and delicious. Much better than regular mutton, and it doesn't have that strong mutton smell."
"If it doesn't smell like mutton, is it still mutton?" Menchi joked, smiling. She then called out to Germain and Bisky, "Come on, join us and have some."
Germain and Bisky walked over, sitting down with Menchi and Buhara around the huge sheep's head.
Just as Germain was about to tear off a piece of meat, Menchi stopped him. "Wait, I almost forgot something important."
She stood up, grabbed a bowl of sauce she had prepared, and poured it over the sheep's head. Then, she asked Buhara to cut the head into smaller pieces.
"Alright," Menchi said, licking her lips as she looked at the now cut-up sheep's head. "Now we can eat."
The sauce made the sheep's head even more fragrant. Without saying much, everyone tore off pieces of meat to taste. Buhara, however, was busy gnawing on a bone.
Menchi is very particular about food, but even she couldn't help but praise the huge sheep's head she ate.
Germain took a bite and secretly nodded in approval. It was indeed delicious.
After a while, he noticed something unusual.
In the "Dark Continent," Germain's "pressure" increases whenever he is in darkness. It used to rise by 6 points each time, but with the "Master Halo," it now only increases by 1 point at a time.
Even with the "Master Halo," his "pressure" kept increasing after nightfall.
Germain had planned to build up over 20 points so he could ask Bisky for a set of "Magical Beautician Miss Cookie's Piano Massage" to reduce his "pressure."
Unexpectedly, after eating the sheep's head, his "pressure" actually decreased.
Although it wasn't as effective as "Piano Massage of Magical Beautician Miss Cookie," his "pressure" did slowly decrease.
Eating the sheep's head reduced his accumulating "pressure" to just 4 points.
This was quite intriguing.
Germain looked at Menchi and Buhara and suspected that their cooking might be helping to relieve stress.
"What's wrong?" Menchi noticed Germain staring at him, blinked, and asked, "Why are you looking at me?"
"You don't want to eat Menchi and Buhara too, do you?" Bisky elegantly wiped grease from her mouth with a tissue and said with a serious tone, "Germain, don't lose your sense of humanity."
She was joking, of course; she didn't really think Germain wanted to eat people.
Additionally, they had agreed beforehand not to eat Warcraft sub-species or creatures capable of communication.
They aren't demons who eat everything they see.
However, since Germain didn't answer and kept looking at Menchi and Buhara for a long time, Menchi, Buhara, and even Bisky felt uneasy.
Fortunately, Germain didn't cross any boundaries and explained his thoughts, which relieved everyone.
"Don't scare me like that at night," Menchi complained, patting his chest with his greasy hand, "I almost thought you were losing it."
"Sorry," Germain shrugged.
Bisky thought for a moment, then said, "This is actually a good thing. Relying on me to relieve your stress isn't very reliable. Now that there's a third way, it's even better."
She referred it as the "third way" knowing that Germain could also relieve stress through "critical strikes," though the chances were slim and it rarely happened.
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