Chapter Ten: Gnawing. The Protagonist in the Midst of a Medicinal Storm

It was the Russian Roulette wheel once again, displaying twelve items in total.

Among them were a sock capable of suffocating a person, an alloy dagger, a box of Six-Ingredient Rehmannia Pills, and a map of China. The selection was as bizarre as one could imagine; of all twelve, only the dagger seemed remotely useful—at least it could serve as a means of self-defense. As for the map or the sock, drawing either would truly be a stroke of misfortune!

Chen Bo spun the wheel, which whirled at breakneck speed, finally coming to a stop after more than ten seconds. His expression stiffened—he had won something utterly useless.

A bottle of “Parathion”!

What was he supposed to do with that? He wasn’t a protagonist from a farming novel; he was a down-and-out type, in desperate need of some secret technique for a dramatic comeback! Even a dagger would have been better than this!

Chen Bo could only force a bitter smile as he held up the elaborately packaged bottle of pesticide for the viewers in his streaming room.

Indeed, this bottle of pesticide was presented as if it were an expensive liquor—an example of truly twisted humor.

“666, the transmigrator streamer drinks pesticide live on air and makes a million a month!”

“I think there must be a reason the system gave him this.”

“That bottle of Parathion looks delicious, just the packaging alone is worth dozens of bucks.”

“Dozens? That cap looks like pure gold to me! And the bottle itself probably isn’t glass—must be crystal or something. The bottle alone is probably worth over a thousand.”

“Good eye!”

Truly, those who don’t work the land have no sense of the farmer’s hardship. The viewers joked and exaggerated, but their jests did nothing to heal the wounds in Chen Bo’s heart.

“The first draw was a disaster, but I’m not worried—I’ve got three more chances. I refuse to believe I can’t get something good!” Chen Bo declared indignantly.

He started the second basic draw; the items on the wheel changed, but they were still mostly useless.

A pair of shoes—high heels, no less. Chen Bo was a man through and through; that was of no interest to him. An umbrella—what use was that? A panda—was he supposed to keep one as a pet? And an apple.

Another ten thousand gold coins wasted, and Chen Bo, dejected, spun the wheel—only to end up with an apple!

Looking at the rosy apple in his hand, Chen Bo clung to a final sliver of hope and asked the system if this was some kind of celestial fruit.

As it turned out, it was indeed not an ordinary apple—it was a mutated one, three times larger than usual, about the size of a papaya. Other than its size, it had no particular attributes.

Unwilling to give up, he took a bite—and to be fair, it tasted exceptional, perhaps the best apple Chen Bo had ever eaten. Still, it was of little practical use, not even as handy as an umbrella.

But did you think Chen Bo could be so easily defeated? Protagonists of the underdog type are nothing if not resilient; he immediately began his third draw.

This time, he didn’t even bother to check the items. He simply spun the wheel—and, as fate would have it, won a broken bottle.

The bottle was ceramic, crudely made. Wait—a moment, were those letters?

Chen Bo noticed a cluster of tiny, almost imperceptible characters carved densely into the base, reminiscent of the scrolling comments in his streaming room.

They were traditional characters, but Chen Bo could read them.

“Shaolin Minor Rejuvenation Pill? Plus a prescription? These letters are tiny!” After a few glances, his eyes started to ache, and he could only make out fewer than ten characters.

No matter—he had his all-powerful system.

“This is the Minor Rejuvenation Pill from Shaolin Temple. There are five pills inside. Each one increases five years of inner strength, non-stackable, no side effects. The prescription is included,” the system explained.

Hearing the system, Chen Bo’s eyes lit up. He quickly stored the bottle in his system space, looked around to ensure no one was watching, and sighed in relief.

Chen Bo had heard of the Shaolin Minor Rejuvenation Pill, had seen it in many novels—a single pill could boost one’s power by five years with no side effects. It was astonishing.

“Wait, that’s inner strength! This world uses ‘vital force’—a completely different system! Damn, yet another useless item,” Chen Bo muttered in frustration.

“Host, since the cultivation here is of vital force, the system has already modified the pill’s effect; it now grants one year’s vital force,” the system replied.

Chen Bo paused, then was overjoyed. The purity of vital force far surpassed inner strength; otherwise, there wouldn’t be so many awe-inspiring figures flying around.

Exchanging five years of inner strength for a year of vital force was a good deal. The system had finally shown some humanity.

Chen Bo considered taking the pill immediately, but recalling how lottery rewards were so closely tied to his own strength, he hesitated. Who knew if the altered pill would have side effects, like that Vein-Coagulating Gu he’d gotten last time?

That experience, a living hell, still made his skin crawl with goosebumps at the memory.

“System, there aren’t any side effects this time, are there?” Chen Bo asked uncertainly.

“It hasn’t been tested, so the system doesn’t know. You’re the first person to take this modified Minor Rejuvenation Pill—you should feel honored,” the system answered.

Damn, since when did the system get so snarky? But then again, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Chen Bo steeled himself. “Whatever, as the saying goes, ‘if you’re not dead, you’ll live forever!’”

“Dear viewers, I’m about to test this pill live. If I die, make sure to dig me a grave, bury my photo with me, and prepare a solid gold coffin. When you lay me to rest, throw in some gems and some cash, okay?”

With a face full of tragic heroism, Chen Bo looked like a martyr about to blow up a tank with explosives. His acting had reached new heights.

He took out a Minor Rejuvenation Pill and tossed it in his mouth. Before he could even chew to taste it, the pill dissolved into a cool current that slid down his throat.

He waited a dozen seconds—nothing happened. He waited a bit longer—still nothing. Chen Bo checked his dantian; not a trace of vital force. Had the system swindled him?

Just as his thoughts were running wild, his dantian suddenly swelled. Chen Bo felt a strange energy surging within, darting around his core—this had to be vital force. How marvelous!

He quickly sat cross-legged and began refining the vital force for his own use. After a while, he exhaled heavily and to his astonishment, a cloud of white vapor emerged.

The vital force had already suffused his entire being, strengthening him in all aspects. Since only those with innate talent could store vital force, the year’s worth from the Minor Rejuvenation Pill didn’t just stay in his dantian—it directly propelled him into the mid-stage of the Skin-Tempering Realm!

“I feel incredible! If I fought my old self, I could take on dozens at once. Now I’m a protagonist who powers up on pills—this feels absolutely amazing!”