Chapter Twenty-Seven: Tasting Food!

The jungle was shrouded in darkness, and the soldiers spread out among the trees, searching. They were looking for food—only by finding something to eat could they satisfy their hunger and continue fighting the next day. Survival in the jungle was a challenge that demanded more than mere endurance; without food, it was nearly impossible to sustain the will or strength to fight.

Qin Feng had been searching for an hour with almost nothing to show for it. The area he was in seemed devoid of life. Yet he pressed on, and after another half hour, a glint from his cigarette lighter illuminated a cluster of wild grapevines. He knew these vines held precious water. Drawing his army knife, he made a small incision in the stem, and clear water trickled out. He studied the ground below—no wilting grass or withered plants, a good sign that the water was safe to drink. Qin Feng leaned in and drank. The water was cool and sweet, a delight after a night of thirst. At last, he could replenish himself.

After quenching his thirst, he filled his canteen with the vine water before moving on. With water secured, he no longer feared dying of thirst, but he still needed food. Without nourishment, his body would run out of energy, leaving him too weak to fight. In the jungle, a soldier without strength was as good as dead, and elimination came swiftly for such men.

The sky overhead was pitch black, the stars hidden, the moon nowhere to be seen. A chill wind rustled the leaves. Zhang Cheng had been searching for a long time as well, but found little. If he came up empty-handed much longer, rest would be his only option. Without proper rest, the next day's battles would be even more daunting.

"Seems my luck's run out—nothing at all," Qin Feng murmured to himself, frustration gnawing at him. Was he really going to be eliminated like this? Still, he kept searching, knowing that if he didn't find food, his body would soon give out.

He searched carefully, and just as he was about to give up, he suddenly spotted a large rat ahead. His eyes lit up with surprise. Even in the gloom, he could see the rat scurrying quickly, about the size of a grown man’s forearm. It seemed to be searching for food as well. Qin Feng couldn't tell what kind of rat it was, but it didn't look poisonous—poisonous rats were rarely so large.

But at this point, he didn't care. He wasn't a biologist, and right now, the only thing that mattered was that the rat was food.

Nearly faint with hunger, Qin Feng drew his army knife—faster than he ever had since joining the military. His eyes locked on the rat, predicting its path, and without hesitation he flung the blade.

A sharp sound cut through the night as the knife struck true, pinning the rat to the ground. Qin Feng dashed forward. The rat, though wounded and immobilized, still snapped at him. He grabbed a branch from a nearby tree and struck the rat’s head, shattering it. Pulling out his knife, he removed the rat's head and tail. Blood trickled from the exposed neck.

Qin Feng opened his mouth, letting the blood drip in. It wasn't much, but every bit of nourishment counted. Then, using his knife, he skinned the rat and rinsed the meat with the wild grape water, cleaning both the flesh and his blade of fur and grime. He sliced the meat into pieces and, without hesitation, swallowed them raw. The pungent taste was overwhelming, but Qin Feng endured it. In the jungle, food was life, and compared to survival, taste was unimportant.

He considered making a fire to cook the meat, but the risk