Dimensional Supermarket - Chapter 53

“What are we eating today?” A little toddler, barely tall enough to reach the table, clings to the edge with his small hands. His legs dangle in the air, and his mouth is slightly open as he swallows a small gulp of saliva. In a soft, childish voice, he asks, “Is there any meat?”

An adult walks out of the kitchen carrying dishes. Smiling, he says, “There’s meat. And rice soup.”

The kid shouts excitedly, “Meat! There’s meat!”

“You can only eat when Mom comes back.” The man places the dishes on the table. In this kind of weather, there’s no need to worry about the food getting cold too quickly.

He glances at the clock on the living room wall. Sure enough, when the hour and minute hands overlap at twelve, a knock comes at the door.

He quickly goes to open it. “You didn’t bring your key?”

The woman standing there smiles, carrying several bags. “My parents went shopping. These are from them.”

Their kids are still young, the woman works, and the man juggles odd jobs while taking care of the children. They have no time for shopping.

Both sets of parents are still young and healthy, so they offer to help.

Now, there are no more corn cakes in the house.

Instead, the rice bucket is filled with plump grains, the pantry is stocked with bacon and sausage, and the shelves are lined with fresh vegetables and fruit.

The cupboards brim with seasonings and spices.

The elderly often say that life now almost feels like it did before the zombie outbreak.

The woman has never known what the world was like before then, but to her, these are the best days she’s ever lived.

Though work is tiring, there’s a hot meal waiting when she gets home.

Though the kids are sometimes mischievous, they behave most of the time.

Though her husband’s cooking isn’t great, it’s not bad enough to make her want to go back to work early.

And really, what more could you ask for than coming home to a warm meal?

Before, the whole family ate together with nothing but corn cakes.

“What’s for lunch today?” She hands the bags to her husband, picks up the child who has rushed into her arms, and kisses their forehead with a smile.

The child shouts, “Braised pork ribs! With potatoes!”

The woman looks at her husband. “You went to the supermarket this morning?”

The man scratches the back of his head. “Queued up last night.”

It’s too late to go in the morning. By then, you’d be lucky to get in before evening.

Even though the supermarket has been open for a month and people no longer queue around the clock, daytime still sees the biggest crowds.

“Don’t go at night,” the woman frowns. “It’s too dark, and there aren’t any streetlights nearby. No matter how good security is, you should still be careful.”

“I know, I know. Let’s eat first.”

The base doesn’t usually have electricity, except during holidays like New Year. Only the factory has power on normal days.

That means fresh meat can’t be stored—if you buy it the night before, it’ll spoil by morning.

So you have to shop the same day.

“There’s a drink in here too,” the man says, pulling a large bottle of orange juice out of the bag.

The woman smiles. “My dad knows you like it.”

The man’s eyes redden slightly. He blinks and says, “Let’s eat. I’ll see if I can find work this afternoon.”

The woman waves a hand. “Don’t worry. It’s hard to find anything now. If you can’t, just stay home and watch the kids. Now that we have the supermarket, my salary is enough to support the family.”

The factory still pays wages in corn cakes. Though the exchange rate has dropped from fifty to thirty-eight—compared to rice, which costs just two and a half—rice is practically free.

Her salary can feed their family, and even her parents if needed.

The man whispers, “Still, you should be cautious. What if the supermarket closes one day? We should earn more corn cakes and stock up while we can. Oh right,” he says, picking up a bowl, “I saw someone using corn flour from the supermarket to make corn cakes and exchange them back at the supermarket.”

The woman pauses, drying her hands. “Did it work?”

The man nods. “Yeah, but the exchange rate isn’t the same as the base-issued corn cakes. The homemade ones only fetch nineteen. That’s less than half the value of base ones.”

The woman frowns. “So was that a win or a loss? I remember the corn flour there is expensive.”

“He still made a profit. After deducting costs, he earned just over half a corn cake per batch.”

“Then you should do it too,” the woman says. “If the supermarket didn’t refuse him, then we can definitely do it. You’re already trying to make money through the supermarket—making corn cakes fits perfectly.” The more she thinks about it, the more excited she becomes. “While others haven’t caught on and not many are doing it, you can make more. Think about it. Corn cakes were worth fifty before—they’re already down to thirty-eight. If more people join in, the homemade ones might drop from nineteen to ten. The profit margin will shrink fast. It’s only good for short-term gains, but with no stable jobs and kids at home, it’s your best option right now. No matter how I look at it, it’s a good idea.”

“Alright. I’ll give it a try. I’ll go queue this afternoon and buy more corn flour.” The man smiles.

When the child was younger and needed constant attention, staying home felt justified.

But now the child sleeps most of the day and doesn’t need constant supervision. And no one knows how long the supermarket will stay open—if they don’t stock up now, they’ll have no one to blame when it closes.

They aren’t the only family eyeing corn cake profits.

At the Luoyang base, where jobs are scarce, no one wants to miss the chance to make a little money.

***

“General, do you really think this thing works?”

A soldier squats in front of the covered photon cannon, staring through the tempered glass.

The cannon doesn’t look like much—not very big, kind of flashy. And flashy usually means unreliable. No matter how you look at it, it doesn’t seem worth 15 million. In a low voice, the soldier says, “Is that supermarket boss scamming us? This thing looks like a toy.”

No one has tested the photon cannon yet—it doesn’t use ammo, just needs sunlight to charge. One month of charging for one shot. Then it has to recharge again.

It hasn’t reached full power yet. Because it needs sunlight and they’re afraid it might get stolen, they cover it with tempered glass.

Tempered glass isn’t exactly theft-proof, but it’s better than nothing. Four soldiers rotate shifts to guard it daily.

Yang Guoqin smokes. Since he can afford cigarettes now, it’s as if he wants to make up for all the times he hasn’t smoked before. Smoke constantly lingers around him, and many people avoid him when they see him.

“I’m just taking a gamble,” Yang Guoqin sighs. “If it doesn’t work out, maybe I can get a refund.”

The soldier is startled. “You can get a refund?”

Yang Guoqin replies, “It’s not a bank—there’s no such thing as ‘final sale.’ And besides, those guns—” he lowers his voice, “—they’re all outdated models from the past. They’re no good for the battlefield anymore. What we need are new ones.”

The soldier frowns. “How are they no good? We’re just short on ammo!”

Yang Guoqin says, “How long do you think a gun stays in service? What we really lack are bullets and medicine, not guns.”

Guns last a long time and can be repaired when broken. But ammunition is a consumable—once used, it’s gone.

That’s why every base has a stockpile of guns but no stockpile of bullets or medicine.

“I still think this photon cannon is unreliable,” the soldier mutters. “Guns are useful no matter what. If this thing turns out to be useless, the loss will be huge.”

“The supermarket isn’t going to just vanish,” Yang Guoqin says.

“You make it sound simple,” the soldier retorts. “That supermarket showed up out of nowhere. They must have some kind of trick up their sleeve. What if they really are from the future? Just press a button and poof—it disappears like a spaceship. What can we even do then?”

Yang Guoqin chuckles. “If they’re really from the future, that’s even better. Think about it—if they wanted to scam us with this photon cannon, why wouldn’t they ask for precious metals? Why would they want those outdated guns that we don’t even use anymore? Wouldn’t that just be cheating themselves too?”

The soldier thinks for a moment. That actually makes some sense. Still, he sighs. “I just have a bad feeling.”

Yang Guoqin doesn’t respond to that. Instead, he murmurs to himself, “I wonder when the next wave of zombies will hit.”

He wants to see the cannon in action—but he also fears that the zombies might arrive before it finishes charging.

“But the base has been like Spring Festival lately!” the soldier says excitedly. “Every household has rice and meat now. Even the canteen meals have improved. I had scrambled eggs with tomatoes for lunch today. I haven’t had eggs in years!”

Although the farm still raises chickens, they mostly raise roosters for meat.

Hens are few, and egg production is even less. Unfertilized eggs are usually reserved as perks for farm workers.

Getting a job at the farm is tough. Countless people try everything just to get in—for the eggs.

Even working without pay is worth it to some.

Yang Guoqin thinks for a moment, then turns serious. “Do you think we could cooperate with the supermarket?”

The soldier is confused. “Cooperate how? Raise chickens?”

Yang Guoqin nods. “We’ve got nothing here in Luoyang. All supplies come from the rear. We can’t always depend on the supermarket. If it disappears one day, we still need to survive. Buying isn’t safe—we need to produce ourselves. We can’t manufacture ammunition, but we can raise livestock. There’s open space behind the base. Chickens and ducks grow fast and bring quick returns. Pigs take too long—we can raise fewer of those.” Yang Guoqin is pleased with the idea. “Even if the supermarket leaves, the base would still have jobs and its own production. At least we wouldn’t have to go back to eating nothing but corn cakes.”

“I’m sick of that!”

“No matter what the rear says when they find out, I have a duty to make sure the people here live well while I’m in charge.”

“Go talk to the supermarket owner.”