Culinary God in Wilderness

Andre’s next visit was in four and a half days. It was just enough time to build a heated bed and let it dry, but the schedule would be tight.

Besides, the nights weren’t too cold at the moment, so delaying a few more days wouldn’t hurt. He could get the prep work done first, like chopping down some suitable trees and splitting the wood.

That way, even if Andre saw him, he wouldn’t be able to guess what Lin was planning.

The injured wolf was also on his mind. He was afraid that if he waited too long, the creature wouldn’t make it, and that would be a waste.

He returned to the spot where he had found the arrow fletching the day before and followed the trail. As he walked, he began running through various scenarios of what might happen when he encountered the wolf pack.

Birch trees weren’t easy to climb; spruce trees were better. But a tree that was too short was useless, and if it was too tall, the lower trunk would be a problem.

He’d tried many times, but for some reason, he just couldn’t climb them. He was nothing like the experts on TV who could scramble to the top in a flash.

’Is my strength too low?’

He pulled up the panel to look at his attributes, which he’d never paid much attention to before.

[Strength: 5.5]

[Stamina: 6.5]

[Intelligence: 6.5]

"Huh?"

He stared at the extra 0.5 points for a few moments.

’If I remember correctly, these used to be whole numbers. Did the past three weeks of wilderness survival hone my Strength and Stamina? And did the knowledge I redeemed increase my Intelligence?’

If the peak for a normal adult was 10, then his current strength was average at best. It really wasn’t that high. He couldn’t even compare to a regular gym-goer, let alone those experts skilled in climbing.

He didn’t think the numbers represented his current condition, but rather the limits of his body at its peak.

The winter forest lacked carbohydrates, so his muscle and liver glycogen stores were low. His body could only resort to gluconeogenesis—breaking down fat and protein for energy. Since his main calorie source was protein almost every day, this trade-off only allowed him to maintain his muscle mass, not build it.

Forty-odd kilograms of potatoes really wasn’t that much when you broke it down. According to the daily required intake for an adult, an eighty-kilogram man like him, with such a high level of daily exertion, needed to consume at least three to four times the standard amount of carbs.

In other words, somewhere between 240 and 320 grams.

Every 100 grams of potato only contained 17.8 grams of carbs. Even factoring in the negligible amount from meat, let’s round it up to 20 grams. That meant he needed to eat 1.2 to 1.6 kilograms of potatoes every day.

The amount he had stockpiled would only last a month at most.

If he cut that amount in half, he could easily make it through the entire competition. However, he would have to face the consequence of his muscles being broken down for energy, leaving his body increasingly weak.

Unless... he could consume a massive amount of fat.

With sufficient fat reserves, the body prioritizes breaking down fat over muscle. Muscle is the body’s last resort for energy and strength, so it has the lowest breakdown priority.

But in the wild, getting a large amount of fat was nothing but a pipe dream.

There were only two sources: one, catching a large number of King Salmon to render for oil, and two, hunting several bears.

In other words, his physical condition was average on any given day. With insufficient strength and no technique, it was natural that he couldn’t climb a tree bare-handed.

If his peak Strength reached 7 or 8, he might be able to do it.

’Next time, I’ll ask Andre if he knows how to climb trees. Make up for a lack of strength with technique.’

He followed the tracks left by the wolf pack northwest for what he estimated was at least fifteen minutes.

Based on his memory, the trail seemed to be heading toward Wolf Mountain, near the area where he had first landed.

’That’s it, it all adds up!’

The farther he went, the more wolf tracks he found in the forest.

Eventually, he couldn’t even begin to count how many wolves lived in the area.

’Are there two or more packs around here?’

’No, that can’t be right. Wolves are extremely territorial creatures... Wait. That chorus of howls from last time... could it have been a turf war?’

At this thought, he immediately began scouting the area and managed to pick out two relatively distinct trails from the mess of chaotic tracks.

He randomly chose one to follow. About ten minutes later, the tracks on the ground suddenly became chaotic, and the area was riddled with pits of various depths.

The nearby grass was spattered with dark brown stains. He leaned in for a sniff and was met with a foul stench.

Parting the grass, he found a few tufts of dark gray fur lying on the ground.

’This is it. It looks like a fight between packs happened here. Other than a turf war, wolf packs rarely have conflicts with each other.’

Soon, he found the ice-cold corpse of a wolf nearby.

Two bloody holes on its neck, deep enough to see bone, revealed the cause of death. Its entire body was covered in wounds, and the ground was soaked through with dark blood.

This wolf was much larger than the one he had encountered the other night. It was quite possibly the alpha of the other pack.

When two packs went to war, it was often the alphas who died. This was common knowledge for any wilderness enthusiast.

After tracking for a while longer with no new discoveries, he wisely stopped and turned back.

’It seems the other trail is the one that leads to the pack’s den. This area was the battlefield, and this was the invaders’ route.’

Once an alpha died, the now leaderless pack would be absorbed by the victor, remaining in the new territory rather than returning to their original den.

After traveling for another hour or so, he heard the faint sound of flowing water.

"Hm?"

’This doesn’t seem to be the direction I expected. I thought I was heading northwest, but somehow I’ve ended up heading southwest?’

He glanced up at the sun’s position to get his bearings. Sure enough, it was southwest.

In other words, he wasn’t far from where the wolf pack had blocked his path when he crossed the river. He was just further downstream.

’Good thing I didn’t choose to take the long way and cross downstream last time. I might have stumbled right into their den.’

A wave of relief washed over him, but at the same time, he grew more alert.

He drew an arrow with a reverse grip, nocked it, and crouched low. He slowed his pace, scanning his surroundings as he moved.

The area was thick with relatively short spruce trees, about four or five meters tall. Their dense needles severely obscured his vision. Being near a water source, it was a perfect hiding spot for a wolf pack.

After advancing another few dozen meters, a clearing in the forest caught his eye.

The weeds in the clearing were all flattened, as if something heavy had rolled over them. Fresh droppings were scattered about.

*Phew...*

He let out a quiet sigh. A wave of disappointment washed over him, mixed with a hint of relief.

’Looks like the pack is out hunting and not in the den. I can’t stay here any longer, or I might run right into them when they return.’