"If you try to peel it vertically, the soft, juicy flesh might get squeezed by your fingers, making it slip. You could end up cutting your skin or fingers with the knife."

"If you cradle it like this, the mango won’t move around."

As long strips of peel fell to the ground, the golden flesh was exposed to the air, releasing a rich, sweet mango fragrance.

The scent alone made his stomach rumble in anticipation.

Mango juice dripped continuously between his fingers. He didn’t even dare grip it; the ripe mango was so soft that the slightest squeeze would make the flesh burst.

If any juice got on his clothes, he’d have to wash them before wearing them again, or else it would attract insects and ants.

He had no desire to run around naked in the wild.

He licked his chapped lips but didn’t rush to take a bite. Instead, he held his combat knife vertically and made three cuts into the mango, followed by one horizontal slice.

"A mango pit is flat. As long as you slice close to the stem, you can remove the flesh in one piece. This is also the most efficient way restaurants and boba shops cut their mangoes."

This slice didn’t go all the way through, only deep enough to meet the first set of cuts.

With the cuts made, he inserted the tip of his knife and easily lifted out a large chunk of flesh.

The moment the ripe mango touched his lips, its familiar sticky, luscious juice coated them.

With a gentle press of his tongue, the succulent flesh instantly dissolved, flooding his mouth with sweet, fragrant puree.

"...Damn!"

He closed his eyes, his face a mask of pure bliss. He tried to think of how to describe the taste, but a flood of sensations culminated in a single, simple exclamation.

"I’d bet anything this is the most delicious mango I’ve ever had in my life!"

Forgetting all about his audience, Lin Chen’s appetite was now wide open. He hurriedly cut another piece and stuffed it into his mouth. He hadn’t even swallowed it before his combat knife was already moving to the next chunk.

He deliberately cut the mango into large chunks. It was so ripe, after all, that smaller pieces would have been impossible to pick up.

After finishing one half, he gave the mango a little toss with his left hand, flipping it over perfectly. Then came three quick slices, followed by a horizontal cut.

After eating all the large chunks of flesh, there was still a layer left to suck off the pit. Finally, he popped the entire pit into his mouth, determined to wring out every last drop of juice.

[Enjoyed a wild, ripe mango in the Panama Forest. Happiness +1]

He held the clean-sucked pit up in the air and gave it a little shake, remarking with heartfelt sincerity.

"My friends, believe me, the fruit in tropical countries tastes completely different from what we usually buy in the supermarket. It has a special aroma. Thanks to the abundant sunlight and warm climate, the sugar content is much higher. Eating it just makes you feel happy."

This single mango weighed over a pound. After finishing two large ones, he let out a contented burp.

BURP~

"Mangoes are great, but you can’t overdo it. They’re so sweet that eating too much gets a little cloying. Looks like one at a time is plenty."

He washed his hands, gathered some nearby moss, and brought it back to his shelter.

"The most important part of making fire with a drill is catching the spark. For that, you need tinder. Tinder is usually made from materials like cotton, wood shavings, or dry moss."

"I just took a look around and didn’t see any deadwood, so for now, I’ll just gather some moss and hang it here to air-dry and dehydrate."

He returned to the stream and walked along its bank for a while, eventually finding a few stones of various sizes.

He didn’t know much about geology, so he couldn’t identify their specific type.

But it didn’t matter. As long as they were rocks, they would have to do.

He chose a relatively flat, palm-sized stone and began striking it repeatedly against a larger rock on the ground.

CLACK.

CLACK.

CLACK.

After a few strikes, the edges of the stone in his hand had noticeably chipped away.

He picked it up and observed it, determining which parts to keep and which to chip away. He then resumed the process, but with less force to avoid shattering the entire stone.

[What is he doing?]

[Every step Lin takes is unexpected. I can never guess what he’s going to do next.]

[Looks like he’s making something.]

[It’s probably a stone tool. It’s tough surviving in the wild without tools. The only thing hard enough is rock. Ancient people in the Stone Age used rocks to make tools.]

After several minutes of chipping, Lin Chen felt the muscle in the web of his right hand ache as if it were about to cramp. He quickly stopped to rest and took a look at the live comments.

"That’s right. I’m trying to make a stone axe. It’s hard to build a sturdy shelter if you can’t chop wood."

"But a stone axe has its limitations. It can’t really cut through thick logs. You can only use it on branches about as thick as your arm, or on green wood."

"More importantly, a stone axe isn’t just for chopping wood; it can also serve as a blade. Some of the larger crustaceans have tough shells that are hard to deal with using my combat knife. Having something like a cleaver would make things much easier."

After resting for about fifteen minutes, once the lactic acid buildup in his hand had mostly subsided, he picked up the stone and resumed his work of chipping and shaping it.

He continued until one side had been roughly chipped into an irregular, thin edge. It looked so fragile that one more light tap might shatter it, so he finally stopped the strenuous work.

"The rough shaping is done. Next is the fine finishing."

He rinsed the stone in the creek, then held it in his left palm. He found a fist-sized river pebble and used it to gently tap along the side of the newly-formed thin edge.

CHINK.

A small stone flake broke away, revealing a smooth, concave fracture.