Chapter 4: Chapter 4: The Hunger Download

Dayat’s breath wheezed like a broken steam kettle whistle. His lungs felt like they were on fire, as if he had just inhaled chili powder instead of oxygen. His legs, forced to sprint through thorny bushes and protruding tree roots, finally gave out.

He collapsed under the shade of a giant tree with a thickly mossed trunk.

“Crazy…” Dayat hissed, clutching his chest. “Crazy… what was that? A dinosaur? A rhino? A fur-covered battle tank?”

Beside him, the AI stood tall. Not a single drop of sweat marred her smooth forehead. Her breathing was regular, her chest rising and falling with a perfect rhythm of simulated respiration, not out of a need for oxygen. Her black bodysuit was only slightly splattered with mud, but otherwise, she still looked like a tech expo model who had walked onto the wrong Jumanji movie set.

“Based on footprint analysis and ground vibration frequency,” the AI replied in her signature flat tone, “the organism shares 70% morphological similarity with Sus scrofa—the wild boar—but with muscle mass increased by 300% and a skin layer as thick as light steel.”

Dayat looked up at the forest canopy, which was beginning to dim. Golden afternoon sunlight pierced through the leaves, creating an atmosphere that would have been romantic if his stomach wasn’t currently screaming for help.

Gruuullll…

The sound was long, low, and pathetic. It was so loud that a small bird on a high branch flew away in shock.

“Biometric status of Master Hidayat updated,” the AI turned, her eyes scanning Dayat’s abdominal area briefly. “Warning: Blood glucose reserves critical. The previous use of ’Imagination Manifestation’, although only producing a small folding knife, burned calories equivalent to running a 10-kilometer marathon. Master’s body is entering catabolic mode.”

Dayat closed his eyes. “No wonder… I feel like I’m gonna pass out. I need food. Otherwise, I’m not gonna die by a monster, but die stupidly from stomach acid.”

Dayat tried to sit up. His eyes swept the surroundings.

Ironically, this forest looked like a giant buffet. Plants were everywhere. There were brightly colored fruits hanging low, plump mushrooms growing on rotting logs, and tubers protruding from the ground.

Right in front of him, there was a bush filled with dark purple fruits the size of ping-pong balls. The fruit looked incredibly fresh, glistening like premium grapes in an expensive supermarket. Dayat drooled reflexively.

“That…” Dayat pointed with a trembling hand. “That looks like grapes. The color is purple. Usually, purple is safe, right? Purple is the color of royalty.”

Dayat crawled closer. His hand reached out to pluck the tempting fruit.

ZING!

A cold hand gripped Dayat’s wrist with an iron-like strength. The AI halted his movement.

“Action denied,” the AI stated firmly.

Her blue eyes shone brightly, projecting a laser scanner beam onto the purple grapes. A red grid appeared in the air, wrapping the fruit with real-time analysis data.

“Object: Pseudo-Vitis Vinifera,” the AI read. “Chemical analysis: Contains high concentrations of Hydrogen Cyanide and paralytic neurotoxins in its skin. Effect of consuming one berry: Respiratory system paralysis within 30 seconds. Brain death within 2 minutes.”

Dayat yanked his hand back as fast as lightning, as if the fruit had just turned into an active grenade. “Holy crap! Is that fruit or rat poison?”

“In this ecosystem, bright colors are a warning, not an invitation,” the AI explained. She released Dayat’s hand. “Evolution here is far more aggressive. You cannot apply Earth’s botanical logic.”

Dayat groaned in frustration. He leaned back against the tree. “Then what do I eat? Soil? Tree bark? You’re a robot, you don’t need to eat. But me? I’m human. I need Nasi Padang, or at least some bread.”

The AI didn’t answer the complaint. She turned around, starting to walk around the area near the tree where they were resting. Her eyes kept glowing, scanning every inch of vegetation. The blue beams from her eyes swept across the bushes, dissecting plant molecular structures in milliseconds.

Dayat could only watch the AI girl’s back moving stiffly but efficiently. He felt useless. In his old world, if he was hungry, he just opened a food delivery app, ordered, paid with an e-wallet, and food arrived. Here? He didn’t even know which one was food and which one was a cold-blooded killer.

“Found it,” the AI’s voice broke Dayat’s daydream.

Dayat turned quickly. “What? Pizza? Burger?”

The AI squatted near a protruding giant tree root. She used her hands to dig into the loose soil. After a moment, she pulled out something that was… disgusting.

The object was oblong, the size of an adult’s arm, dull brown, and covered in fine hairs that looked itchy. Clear sap dripped from the scratched parts. It looked like a giant rotting cassava, or maybe a monster’s cocoon.

Dayat stared at the object with horror. “You… you want me to eat that?”

“Object: Root Tuber, type Starchy Tuber,” the AI explained while brushing the soil off the object. “Nutritional analysis: Complex Carbohydrates 75%, Water 20%, Fiber 5%. Contains no lethal toxins. This is the most efficient energy source within a 500-meter radius.”

“But it looks like a giant dead rat!” Dayat protested. “Besides, it’s sappy. What if it makes me itchy?”

“The sap contains Calcium Oxalate. If eaten raw, it will cause a severe burning sensation in the mouth and throat swelling that can lead to fatality,” the AI added in a relaxed tone as if reading a sunny weather forecast.

“See! You want to kill me slowly, don’t you?!”

“Correction: If eaten raw,” the AI cut in. She walked closer to Dayat, carrying the hairy tuber. “The substance can be neutralized through a heating process and rapid oxidation using the leaves of the Acidic Fern growing over there.”

Dayat gaped. “Oxidation? Acidic Fern? I don’t understand cooking. I can only cook instant noodles, and even then, they’re sometimes overcooked. I don’t know how to process poisonous cassava like that.”

The AI fell silent for a moment. She tilted her head, looking at Dayat with a gaze that was hard to interpret.

“Master possesses no survival culinary data?”

“Of course not! I’m a boarding house kid from Central Jakarta!”

“Understood,” the AI replied. “Transferring verbal instructions would take too long and carries a high risk of interpretation error. Given Master’s critical glucose condition, efficiency is the priority.”

The AI stepped forward until her knees almost touched Dayat’s. Her face leaned in close.

“What… what are you doing?” Dayat recoiled slightly, his heart pounding. Was this a romantic scene? Was the AI going to give him the “kiss of life”?

The AI raised her right hand, her index and middle fingers joined together, then with a swift movement, pressed her fingertips against Dayat’s forehead, right between his eyebrows.

“Initiating Protocol: Neural Data Transmission. Package: Basic Survival Cooking – Tuber Preparation. File size: 25 Megabytes.”

“Huh? What transmi—”

ZING!

Dayat’s world turned white.

Not white from fainting, but white from an explosion of information.

It felt like a USB cable was forcibly plugged directly into his cerebral cortex. There was a very loud static buzzing sound—KZZZTTT—followed by a cold sensation flowing from his forehead spreading throughout his entire head.

Dayat’s eyes widened, but he didn’t see the forest.

He saw images flashing at high speed inside his mind.

Images of the tuber being peeled.

Images of serrated fern leaves that needed to be squeezed until their acidic water came out.

Images of how to stack dry wood to make a fire without a match (friction method).

Images of how to wrap the tuber with fern leaves.

Images of the duration to burn the package over the embers.

The precise temperature.

The aroma to smell when it’s done.

Everything entered Dayat’s head not as visual memories, but as instinct. As if he had done this a hundred times before.

“ARGH!” Dayat jerked back, clutching his throbbing head. The sensation was like a brain freeze after drinking ice slushy too fast, but multiplied by ten.

“Transmission complete,” the AI said, pulling her finger back. “Data integrity 100%.”

Dayat gasped for air, his eyes watering. “Crazy… my head feels like it’s gonna explode. What did you just do? Did you just send me online voodoo?”

“I transmitted an instructional data package directly to Master’s short-term memory. Now, Master should know what to do.”

Dayat blinked. The pain in his head slowly faded, replaced by a strange clarity.

He looked at the hairy tuber in the AI’s hand. Strangely, the object no longer looked disgusting. It looked… processable.

Subconsciously, Dayat’s hand moved on its own. He picked up the folding knife he had manifested earlier.

“Give me the tuber,” Dayat mumbled. He took the tuber from the AI’s hand. “Peel the outer skin two millimeters thick. Don’t touch the inner flesh.”

His hands worked deftly. The folding knife danced over the tuber’s surface, removing the hairy skin with precision that didn’t belong to him.

Dayat was surprised watching his own hands. “Whoa, my hands are moving on their own! So cool!”

“That is artificial muscle memory,” the AI corrected. “Please proceed. Acidic Fern leaves are at 9 o’clock, 3 meters away.”

Dayat stood up, his legs still weak but his objective clear. He walked to the fern bush in question. He knew exactly which leaves to pick—the light green ones with red spots on the stems. He plucked five leaves.

He squeezed the leaves until a pungent acidic liquid came out. He smeared the peeled tuber flesh with the liquid.

“This is to neutralize the Calcium Oxalate,” Dayat mumbled, as if he were a five-star professional chef. Even though five minutes ago he didn’t know the difference between galangal and ginger.

Next step: Fire.

Dayat gathered dry twigs. He didn’t need to use the wood friction technique taught by the AI, because he had a gas lighter (result of his earlier whimsical manifestation).

Click. Fire lit up.

He wrapped the acid-smeared tuber with the remaining leaves, then threw it into the small fire he made.

“Wait ten minutes until the wrapping leaves are totally charred,” Dayat said to himself.

The AI watched from the side, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “Master’s work efficiency increased by 400%. Data Transmission Method proven effective, despite causing mild migraine side effects in the subject.”

“Mild, my foot,” Dayat grumbled while massaging his temples. “It feels like my brain was squeezed dry. But… thanks. Without you, I would’ve definitely died of poisoning or starvation.”

Ten minutes later, an appetizing aroma began to waft. The smell of earth and acid was gone, replaced by a sweet and savory scent, like charcoal-roasted sweet potato.

Dayat pulled the charred package out of the fire using a twig. He opened it carefully. The tuber flesh was now golden yellow and soft.

Without hesitation, Dayat blew on it briefly and took a bite.

Hot. Soft. Sweet.

There was a slight astringency at the tip of the tongue—perhaps remnants of toxins not perfectly neutralized—but for the starving Dayat, this was the most delicious food in the world.

“Delicious…” Dayat almost cried. “I swear, this is so good.”

He devoured the tuber greedily, not caring that his mouth was smeared with charcoal. Energy slowly returned to fill his body. The dizziness from using Mana began to subside.

The AI stared at Dayat eating voraciously. On her internal visual display, a small notification blinked:

[User Status: Improving. Trust Level towards AI Unit: Increased 15%.]

“Master,” the AI called out as Dayat licked his fingers.

“Hmm?” Dayat turned, his mouth full.

“Suggestion for the future: Do not waste Master’s energy manifesting things beyond comprehension. Focus on survival. I will provide the data, Master provides the matter.”

Dayat swallowed his last bite. He looked at the folding knife beside him, then at the AI.

“Got it. You’re the brains, I’m the brawn. Is that it?” Dayat smirked. “Eh, wrong. You’re the brains, I’m… the magician.”

“An inaccurate analogy, but acceptable,” the AI replied flatly. “Now, rest. I will activate Night Sentry Mode. This forest will become significantly more dangerous after sunset.”

Dayat nodded. He leaned back against the tree trunk, his stomach full, his heart a little calmer. In this crazy world, at least he had one certainty: A Walking Cheat Code.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep