Sunday morning in the UI camp was deceptively peaceful. Kael sat on the steps of a lecture hall overlooking the main field, nursing a cup of weak, bitter coffee. It was just past 9:30 AM. His entire body was a symphony of aches, a harsh reminder of the claustrophobic battles in the ventilation shafts the day before. But underneath the soreness was a hum of power, a quiet confidence he'd never known.
Yesterday had been a blur of fire and screaming metal. The Spore-Mite Matriarch had been a terrifying foe, its heat-resistant carapace shrugging off his simple fire trick. He remembered the desperate moments, his newly enhanced mind racing as [Data Analysis] fed him information. He'd found the flaw not in the armor, but in the creature itself.
// Hidden Attribute: Susceptible to high-frequency sonic resonance.
It was an obscure detail, a one-in-a-million weakness. He'd told Joko and Siti he had an idea to "disorient it with sound." Then, he had dragged his rusty blade against a metal support beam, not for a spark, but for the sound—a high-pitched, piercing screech. He had used his [Code Perception] to subtly modulate the vibration, forcing it to match the resonant frequency his skill had identified.
The Matriarch had convulsed, its neural system overloaded, and collapsed into a twitching heap, allowing Joko and Siti to deliver the final blows. He'd claimed the impressive loot—a large, iridescent piece of chitin—by saying it was a "resonating plate" he needed to repair his focus. They had been too exhausted and impressed to question him.
Now, sitting in the morning sun, he examined it through his perception.
// Item: [Matriarch's Carapace] // Quality: Rare // Attribute: Lightweight, High_Heat_Resistance, Moderate_Physical_Resistance // Note: A prime crafting material for light armor.
He had the EXP. He had a rare material. But it was just a material. His plan, which had seemed so distant just two days ago, now had clear, tangible steps.
Step 1: Turn resources into gear. Step 2: Gather more information on the "Sentinels of Science" expedition. Step 3: Get strong enough to leave this sanctuary and head to Cibinong.
He finished his coffee and headed for the workshop, the camp's industrial heart. He bypassed the area where Adi was working on the angkot and went towards the forge, a section of the building where the rhythmic clang of a hammer on steel rang out.
The man at the anvil was a legend in the camp, known only as Empu Hardi. He was an old master smith, a [Master Craftsman] whose hands knew the language of metal. He was hammering a piece of leaf spring into a wicked-looking machete.
"Empu Hardi," Kael said respectfully.
The old man finished his hammer stroke before looking up, his eyes sharp. "What do you want, boy? I'm busy."
Kael didn't waste words. He pulled the [Matriarch's Carapace] from his backpack and placed it on a workbench. The iridescent material seemed to drink the light.
Hardi's hammering stopped. He put down his tools and walked over, his expert eyes scanning the carapace. He ran a calloused finger over its smooth, unnaturally hard surface.
"Where," he said, his voice a low rumble of awe, "did you get this?"
"Ventilation shafts of the med bay," Kael replied.
"The Spore-Mite Matriarch... I heard that thing had driven back two other teams," Hardi mused. He looked at Kael with new respect. "This is high-grade material. Strong as steel, but a fraction of the weight. What do you want for it?"
"I don't want to sell it," Kael said. "I want you to make something from it. A chest piece. Something light I can wear under my jacket."
Empu Hardi nodded slowly, already seeing the armor in his mind's eye. "A custom job. It will cost you. My time isn't free."
"I have cores," Kael said, pulling out the small bag of [Lesser Monster Cores] he'd collected. He had twenty in total.
"Ten lesser cores," Hardi stated, not as a question but a price. "And it will take me a day. Come back tomorrow."
"Deal," Kael said without hesitation. It was a steep price, but worth it.
He left the forge feeling a sense of accomplishment. He had a plan, and it was in motion. He was turning his secret victories into real-world strength. As he stepped out into the main yard, a familiar voice called his name.
"Kael."
It was Rina. She stood with her arms crossed, her [Pathfinder]'s gaze fixed on him.
"The whole camp is talking," she said, her tone direct and analytical. "About the 'Miracle Lamplighter' who cleared the sewers with a kick and the vents with a 'lucky guess'. You seem to have a knack for being in the right place with the right trick."
Kael's heart beat a little faster. "I just do what I can."
"Good," she said, a small, unreadable smile touching her lips. "Because I have a mission for you, and it doesn't involve slime or fungus." She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in.
"We need to talk."