With a newfound, almost feverish energy, Ren began to scour the ruins with a purpose they'd never known. Every piece of debris, once just worthless junk, now held a flickering, often impure, aura visible to their newly awakened senses. They moved from a shattered ceramic tile to a discarded leather strap, then to a section of water-logged, rotting timber.
[Raw Energy Siphon Activated: +0.0008 Cultivation Essence (Impure) | +2 SP][Raw Energy Siphon Activated: +0.0003 Cultivation Essence (Impure) | +1 SP][Raw Energy Siphon Activated: +0.0015 Cultivation Essence (Impure) | +4 SP]
The notifications popped up relentlessly, a silent stream visible only to Ren. The amounts were still minuscule, barely enough to register, but they accumulated. Ren watched the Cultivation Essence counter, a tiny, flickering decimal number, and the Salvage Points (SP) tally slowly tick upwards. It was slow, agonizingly slow, like trying to fill a bucket with a single drop of water at a time. But it was progress.
A faint hum vibrated within the translucent interface, drawing Ren's attention. A new tab had appeared, labeled [Salvage Shop (0/1 Unlocked)]. Curiosity overriding caution, Ren focused on it. The interface shifted, revealing a dizzying array of ethereal icons, most of them greyed out and marked with impossibly high SP costs. Their current 10 SP felt utterly pathetic. But one item, a glowing, faintly pulsing orb, was dimly active:
[Minor Healing Salve (Temporary): Costs 5 SP | Heals minor external injuries, reduces fatigue. (Can be crafted or purchased from Salvage Shop)]
Ren stared at the description. Heals minor external injuries? Reduces fatigue? The aches in their joints and the gnawing emptiness in their stomach screamed in protest. This wasn't some grand cultivation technique, but it was practical. It was survival. The sheer, simple utility of it sparked a warmth in their chest that hadn't been there in years. It was enough to know that their scavenged "trash" could actually yield something tangible, something that could help them today, not just in some distant, impossible future.
The sun began to dip towards the horizon, painting the perpetually hazy sky in muted oranges and purples. Most scavengers would be heading back to Thornhide now, huddling against the evening chill. But Ren felt no desire to leave. The ruins, once a place of soul-crushing despair, now felt like a vault of hidden treasures, waiting to be unlocked. Their stomach still ached, but it was a distant throb, overshadowed by the intense focus this new reality demanded.
Ren pushed deeper into the ruins, towards a section notorious for rockslides and unstable ground, a place even other desperate scavengers avoided. Their enhanced Perception now picked up faint traces, subtler auras, that they would have entirely missed before. It was like seeing the world in a new resolution.
And then, their gaze landed on it. Buried beneath a heap of collapsed masonry, partially obscured by clinging vines and thick moss, lay a dark, unassuming lump. It was larger than most of the debris, its aura slightly stronger, more defined than the faint wisps they'd been siphoning. It wasn't sparkling, or shimmering, or even particularly impressive. It just felt different.
With renewed vigor, Ren began to dig, scrambling through the loose stones and crumbling mortar. Dirt caked under their fingernails, and their muscles screamed in protest, but they ignored it. This lump, this piece of "trash," felt like the most important discovery of their life.