The Rat Cultivator

Chapter 63: Wu Yuan’s Twisted Sense of Fun

The recent expansion had filled Wu Yuan’s pockets with a variety of new Spirit Plants. Most were unranked weeds, but quantity had a quality all its own.

His strategy was simple: plant everything. He scattered the seeds across the various spiritual nodes of Little Green Mountain. Once they matured, he harvested the seeds and transferred the best specimens back to the secure environment of the mine tunnels.

It was essentially a genetic bank—a resource repository for the future.

Little Yellow, acting as the Chief Agricultural Officer, selected the most useful strains for mass production. Priority went to First Order Low Grade Wolfberries, which boosted fertility and population growth, and Bone-Penetrating Grass, a staple for healing injuries.

After inspecting the pristine, moonlit Lunar Essence Grass fields, Wu Yuan moved on to the next facility: the Snake Tooth Rice Base.

The atmosphere here was the polar opposite of the serene, breezy moon cave.

This cavern was dark, damp, and reeked of copper. A thick, suffocating stench of blood hung in the air. If an outsider stumbled into this place, they wouldn’t think it was a farm; they’d assume they had walked into a mass grave or a sacrificial pit.

Rows of Snake Tooth Rice plants stood in neat formation—500 or 600 stalks in total. Each plant was as tall as a man and as thick as a fist, heavy heads of grain bowing under their own weight. The grains were plump, bursting with vitality.

But the fertilizer was… unconventional.

Muscular, scarred rats prowled the rows. They dragged wrist-thick poisonous snakes, the serpents writhing helplessly in their grip. With practiced efficiency, the rats hauled the snakes to the base of the plants.

Snap.

They tore the snake heads off.

Fountains of hot blood sprayed over the Snake Tooth Rice, soaking the roots and leaves. The rats then expertly gouged out the snake galls, swallowed them whole as a snack, chewed up the remaining carcasses, and buried the mulch into the soil.

In the corner, several larger Rat Demons were processing meter-thick pythons, crushing them with raw strength until flesh and blood exploded outward like popped balloons.

The floor of the mine had turned into a dark red swamp. Every step the rats took left a bloody footprint. They were literally wading through a quagmire of gore.

Wu Yuan observed the carnage with a satisfied nod.

“Snake Tooth Rice is picky,” he noted. “It demands high-quality nutrients. But with the endless supply of serpents from Snake Valley, the quality of our crop is skyrocketing. The Blood Qi content in this rice is excellent.”

Little Yellow puffed out his chest, beaming with pride.

“The yield is huge, Boss! It’s enough to feed every single Rat Demon in the army. Just one grain can sustain their daily caloric needs. But…” He leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, “This isn’t even the best part. The real treasure is downstairs.”

Little Yellow led the way deeper, descending into a hidden cavern beneath the slaughterhouse.

This lower chamber was smaller, but the density of Spiritual Qi here was suffocatingly thick—comparable to a Middle Grade Spirit Land.

Hiss… Hiss…

The darkness was filled with the bone-chilling sound of sliding scales and sharp tongues.

Fifty Snake Demons of various sizes lay scattered across the floor. They were stiff, their bodies twisted into unnatural shapes, resembling black ribbons discarded on the ground. They moved sluggishly, their eyes glazed over.

Drip.

A drop of bright red liquid fell from the ceiling.

Instantly, the lethargic snakes exploded into motion, scrambling over each other to catch the droplet before it hit the ground.

“It’s the runoff,” Little Yellow explained. “The blood from the slaughter upstairs filters down through the soil. The roots of the [Blood-Binding Spirit Mulberry] purify it, transforming the waste into ‘Snake Spirit Blood’.”

This processed blood was like ambrosia to the Snake Demons. It was sweet, rich in Spiritual Qi, and highly addictive. It made them docile, lethargic, and fearless—perfect livestock.

The cavern was heavily guarded. Two Rat Demons watched every single Snake Demon, their eyes sharp. The snakes were visibly lazy, bordering on obese. If they stopped circulating their Qi or tried to sleep, the guards would poke them, forcing them to keep processing energy.

Interestingly, the snakes didn’t fight back. They just hissed complaints.

When a snake looked particularly hungry, a guard would toss it a snack: a palm-sized pig.

These weren’t ordinary pigs. They were the descendants of the Wild Boar Demon that had invaded the peach forest months ago. Big Old Black had raided the boar’s den, captured the pregnant sow, and started a breeding program.

After selective breeding and a diet of Spirit Plants, a new species had emerged.

Wu Yuan, exercising his questionable sense of humor, had named them the [River-Blocking Pig].

Big Old Black had been confused. “Boss, they’re tiny. Why call them ‘River-Blocking’?”

Wu Yuan had laughed until his sides hurt. “Because a single river could block them from crossing! Get it?”

Big Old Black hadn’t gotten it, but he laughed anyway because the Boss was laughing.

The River-Blocking Pigs were only the size of two hands, but their reproductive rate was terrifying. A single litter contained hundreds of peanut-sized piglets. They grew fast, matured easily into low-level monsters, and were incredibly stupid.

Ideally, they were popcorn chicken for the Rat Swarm. And now, fodder for the Snake Demons.

“These Snake Demons are tributes,” Little Yellow said, gesturing to the drugged serpents. “They were sent by the new ruler of Snake Valley, the [Flesh-Crowned King Snake].”

“Since you forbade us from invading the valley too often, Bibo just went over there, beat the King Snake half to death, and forced him to submit.”

Little Yellow scratched his head. “That Snake Valley is weird, though. We consume thousands of snakes a day, but their numbers never seem to drop.”

Wu Yuan nodded gravely. “Stick to the plan. Let the subordinate rats handle the collection. The valley is dangerous; don’t risk the elites.”

“We don’t even have to collect them anymore,” Little Yellow grinned. “The Snake King sends them to us. He orders his own subjects to march into the cave for processing. We don’t even need to cage them.”

“All we do is send the King a shipment of Lunar Essence Grass, Snake Tooth Rice, and… a vial of Snake Spirit Blood.”

Little Yellow chuckled. “He’s addicted to the stuff. If he doesn’t get his daily fix, he feels like his skin is crawling. He’s more obedient than our own soldiers.”

Wu Yuan was internally screaming. Good lord.

He had originally created the Snake Spirit Blood system just to recycle waste. He hadn’t expected to inadvertently create a drug empire that enslaved a neighboring King.

Suddenly, a group of Rat Demons hauled a massively obese Snake Demon out of the pit. The creature was bloated, its skin translucent.

“The [Snake Spirit Fruit] inside that one is ripe,” Little Yellow noted casually. “They’re taking it to the processing area to cut it open. Boss, do you want to watch the harvest?”

Wu Yuan shook his head, instantly adopting a look of profound, scholarly sorrow.

“Ah, the suffering of living things,” he sighed, turning his back on the doomed snake. “As the sages say: ‘A gentleman stays away from the kitchen.’ I cannot bear to witness the slaughter.”