Apocalyptic Fantasy Kitchen

Chapter Three: Hands-On

This kitchen might have been cheap, but the soil—she pouted—was expensive. With Earth’s soil long since calcified, most of their food now was hydroponically grown. Even these kitchens came in tiers, with the highest tier designed for hydroponic cultivation, making upgrades simple.

But she just didn’t like hydroponically grown produce. The dishes made from it didn’t taste good. That’s why she settled for the cheapest option, though she would never admit it was because her wallet was painfully empty.

She plucked some vegetables from the soil, and they would grow back again. It wasn’t magic—just a small nod to the natural order. Humanity had long abandoned nature’s rules, and look where that had gotten them—their planets in ruins.

She didn’t want to think about planetary matters right now. Nothing was more important than her grumbling stomach.

She chopped the vegetables herself, calling it a return to simplicity, a “back-to-basics” approach. Robots could prepare meals with precise ingredients and perfectly timed cooking, but they always seemed to lack something.

She tapped her chin thoughtfully and gave a wry smile. Maybe that elusive ingredient was the “human touch.”

Soulless creations couldn’t replicate flavor.

That’s why she loved doing things naturally. Washing, slicing, cooking—the whole process took very little time. The produce from Planet No. 2 was excellent, truly natural. The small patch of soil provided more than enough for her. After all, she was only cooking for herself. Awu sustained itself on energy. One energy stone could last it ages. If there were no energy stones, Awu could even nibble on ordinary rocks and extract energy.

Outside, Awu sensed his owner’s thoughts and sighed softly.

A rock-eating robot. How pitiful. But there was no helping it—his owner was poor. Or perhaps not poor, just terribly reckless with spending. Still, no matter how Fang Qing was, Awu was fond of her. Robots’ highest programmed directive was loyalty and love for their owners—unless, of course, the owner abandoned them.

Indeed, industrial waste littered the planets. Many discarded robots, stripped of their chips, lay like heaps of scrap metal, waiting to be crushed and recycled.

Meanwhile, Fang Qing had finished cooking a few dishes, with rice steaming in sync. The energy source in the space kitchen was self-sustaining, so she didn’t have to worry about anything—except for the soil, which was a bit high-maintenance. Otherwise, it would be perfect. She dished up some rice, and as she appeared in the spaceship with her meal, the kitchen automatically began a cleaning sequence. Dirty water, used plates, and greasy pots were washed and sorted effortlessly.

Placing her dishes on the table, she sat cross-legged and began to enjoy her meal. She took a bite. Mmm, it was pure and flavorful. Well, maybe not exactly the same as food from centuries ago. Back then, Earth still grew crops, and the water was clean and unpolluted. Everything was natural. This was good, but it wasn’t quite the same. Still, for people of her time, this was a rare treat.

She thought about saving some for her family to taste. Her eyes curved into happy crescents as she smiled, utterly content.

Awu rolled its eyes dramatically.

“You humans are strange. You eat, and then soon after, you just expel it.”

Fang Qing huffed. “That’s because you don’t understand enjoyment. This is nature, a cycle. For millions of years, humans have lived this way. We need nature, we need enjoyment, and we need delicious food. The more advanced science becomes, the more we long for simple, natural things. Unfortunately, no amount of longing can return us to the past.”

“Awu, do you want to try some?” She pushed a plate toward him. “I made a little extra. It tastes pretty good.”