Cultivator in a Zombie Apocalypse

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Three - Food for Thought

The journey to the base took rather much longer than expected as the returning men and women crossed paths with a couple of mutated felines. In the eyes of the oversized tabby cats, they were not much different to mice that they had chased in their earlier incarnations... at least until one was stabbed in the fleshy pad of its paw. The shriek from the pained cat that had found that it had messed with the wrong sort of prey, was enough to alarm the other and they ceased their attack, instead they arched their backs and hissed and yowled in warning while backing away. The squad also backed away carefully, not wanting to antagonise the cats further; there was no guarantee that they would all come away unharmed if they tried to fight them, plus the sound and any spilled blood was likely to attract undead foes, which were far more serious a threat to their lives.

Having parted ways, they did still have to deal with a few stumbling zombies before the walls came into sight and they could all breathe a small sigh of relief.

Hearing that the squad had returned, several well known figures appeared to greet them, smiles of welcome upon their faces.  Chang Min had a naturally sunny outlook on life, but that didn't mean he had no understanding of human nature.  It was true that there were a couple of genuine smiles, just not all were as clear cut and calculation could be seen deep within a few eyes.  He kept his own smile amicable, even when his lover closed the small gap between them protectively, even when his heart skipped a beat in affection in response.

"Welcome back, Chang Min!" Councillor Hughes boomed, stepping forward to offer his hand.  Chang Min almost couldn't hold his expression.  This man had been one of those most displeased by his leaving the base, as if Chang Min had counted as one of his own men and was guilty of insubordination and desertion.  The enthusiasm in which he greet him now didn't suit him.

"Councillor Hughes," Chang Min returned his greeting, but did not shake his hand.  It was a custom he'd not been able to adapt to.  He suspected that Councillor Hughes had conveniently forgotten this.  Instead of stretching out his hand, he indicated the man shadowing him.  "This is Cole, my husband."  It rolled off the tongue too wonderfully and his expression softened without him realising it. 

"Sir," Cole skilfully intercepted the handshake in order that the man before them who was visibly becoming angry, had no ability to verbally denounce them for discourtesy.

"Cole will be assisting me with the walls," Chang Min advised them with evident pride in his voice.

"Is that so," Councillor Hughes removed his hand from Cole's, his eyes judgemental as he reflexively adjusted his fist.  Cole had a strong grip.

"You have the same powers as Chang Min?" Councillor Justine asked curiously, stepping into the awkward moment with ease.

"My ability is nowhere near as strong," Cole replied humbly, his eyes sliding towards the Cultivator beside him.  Chang Min grinned lovingly in return.  Several began questioning their life choices that had led them to this point in which they were not only single, but suffering from being fed this obvious dog food.

Justine coughed behind her hand as she attempted to regain the attention this pair of lovebirds.  "If I can, I'd like to discuss the plans with yourselves?"  The two men shed their affection expressions, Chang Min once more wearing his amicable smile, while Cole's face hardened and eyes narrowed, but both men nodded in unison.

They followed her through the base, past wandering civilians and their homes and stalls, carrying on forward towards the greenhouses, past the canteens.  Justine spoke about their ambitions, how they hoped to build several greenhouses out of windows and improve existing poly-tunnels with extensions and plastic sheeting.  They also hoped to build blocks of new apartments in order that civilians and soldiers alike could have homes rather than rooms in the future.  Fortunately, they had a few masons on hand as well as people with building experience.  The homes might not have all of the conveniences of the prior era, but people wouldn't suffer a medieval life.

As they passed the canteen, whiffs of aromas were filtered into the air and the sensitive nose of Chang Min caught the lingering scents.  A compliment to the canteen's chefs crossed his mind, briefly, but vanished in the next moment as they fully left the place behind.

Inside the canteen's kitchens, the diverse group of cooks were gathered around the unusually shaped pot that was propped upon the wood burning oven, its contents bubbling with delicious smells that had their stomachs rumbling and their saliva flowing.  It was all too tempting to grab a spoon and steal a mouthful, if not for the flamboyantly dressed man standing over it with a ladle in one hand and a small wooden bowl in the other.  Their eyes wandered back and forth, from the cauldron to the man and back again, but that man did not return their gaze, his attentions too focused upon the simmering stew. 

His eyes suddenly dilated.  "Now," he murmured softly as his hand tossed the contents of the small bowl into the pot.  The smells thickened, becoming richer and more than one cook felt a little faint as they were enveloped in the heavenly scents.  A moan escaped the throat of a middle-aged woman as her neighbour questioned the pride she'd had in her cooking for all this time but suddenly found herself humbled.  A hint of a smile curved the man's thin lips and were they now looking at him, they would have found it bordering seductive.

The man twisted his wrist and a jumble of ingredients filled the ladle.  These contents he poured into a clean bowl that had appeared in his hand at some point.  The captivating scents eased, releasing the cooks from their grasp and allowing them to come to their senses.  They blinked and noticed that the man was lounging upon a stall, chopsticks in hand along with a bowl of stew.

"Help yourselves," the man offered, his smile suggestive but in no means lewd.  He watched amused as the cooks hurried to grab bowls and spoons in order to taste his fair.  He didn't normally cook for mortals; they couldn't cope with the spiritual essences in his food, nor could they appreciate some of the finer, more subtle flavours within it.  However, he'd taken all of the best bits of the stew, what was left would do them no harm and fill them with a sense of satisfaction at the same time.

He tasted his own portion and inwardly sighed.  It was still lacking, he felt.  He missed too many of the ingredients of that world and could only substitute.  It just wasn't the same!

His appetite spoiled, he placed the bowl to one side, lamenting heavily.

A moment later, he sat upright, ramrod in surprise.  He'd felt the thin spiritual air shiver as it was manipulated with strength.  Not only that, the flavour of the movement was familiar...

The man rushed out of the canteen and hurried to where he'd felt the source of the disturbance.

Author's note; Sorry for the absence. I do have a plan, there is not so much writer's block as suffering from too much procrastination. Hopefully to be cured in the near future x