WebNovels

Chapter 4 - Chapter 4: Land Owner

The sun peeked over the eastern horizon, a shy, hesitant sliver of gold that spilled across the world. It was a clean light, a gentle light, utterly devoid of the bruised, malignant red that had stained their reality for the past twenty-four hours. A breeze, cool and soft as a sigh, whispered across the clearing, carrying with it a scent so fresh and pure it felt like an apology. It smelled of damp earth, sweet grass, and the impossible fragrance of a million flowers blooming at once. A chorus of birdsong erupted from a copse of trees nearby, a sound so cheerful and mundane it was utterly alien. The rustle of leaves was a soft, soothing percussion.

In front of them, where the cracked, oil-stained ribbon of the highway should have been, there was nothing. Not a trace. The asphalt, the painted lines, the discarded trash - it was all gone, erased as if by a divine hand. In its place, stretching out to meet the horizon in every direction, was a single, unbroken expanse of the most vibrant green Riley had ever seen. They were standing at the edge of an endless, rolling meadow, a sea of emerald grass dotted with wildflowers of impossible blues and radiant yellows.

The meadow was not empty. Grazing peacefully in the morning light were herds of… things. There were rabbits, but their ears were long, feathery antennae that twitched at the air. There were sheep, whose fleece shimmered with a faint, pearlescent light. There were goats, one of which Riley could see with a faint, harmless-looking spark of electricity arcing between its two short horns. And then there were the slimes. Jiggling, translucent blobs of sapphire-blue jelly, about the size of a small dog, oozed placidly through the grass, leaving a trail that glittered for a moment before fading.

These were monsters, all right. Riley's skill confirmed it in a flash of mental text - Spark-Horned Goat, Grade F, Docile - but they were clearly not the same kind of ravenous, hate-filled horrors that had turned the city into a slaughterhouse. They were just… life. Part of the landscape.

In less than a day, they had witnessed the world end. And now, standing in the clean morning light, they were witnessing its rebirth. This world, with its impossible flora and fauna, had well and truly become a fantasy. A profound, stunned silence fell over the group, their four figures small and stark against the vast, green canvas. Michael's hand rested on the pommel of his sword, his jaw tight. Emma's mouth was hanging slightly open, her bright pink hair a shocking splash of color against the natural backdrop. Andy just stared, his young face a mask of pure, unadulterated wonder.

And Riley… she would probably never admit this to a single living soul, but a part of her, a deep, hidden part, felt a profound sense of relief. The air here felt easier to breathe. The gray, soul-crushing static of her old life had been replaced by a terrifying, vibrant clarity. She took a deep, greedy breath, filling her lungs with the sweet, clean air. She was going to miss the conveniences of the modern world. God, she was going to miss hot showers on demand, microwavable meals, and the mindless distraction of the internet more than she could possibly articulate. But she was alive. That had to count for something. Better to look forward and keep moving.

"So what…" Emma's voice was a rough whisper, breaking the spell. She ran a hand through her hair, scratching her head in confusion. "Did the earth, like, actually get 'purified' or something?" She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out her phone, its screen dark and lifeless. She jabbed at it uselessly. "Crap. The battery's dead." She held the inert black rectangle up to the sky with a look of genuine mourning. "I'll miss you, phone!" she wailed with theatrical despair. "You were my window to the world! My source of endless cat videos! My… my everything!"

A small, weary smile touched Riley's lips. She reached up, tucking a stray lock of brown hair behind her ear, the gesture feeling strangely normal in a world that was anything but. The sight of Emma's ridiculous, over-the-top grief was a bizarre anchor to reality.

But then, Andy's small voice cut through the moment, sharp and fragile. "What… what do you think happened?" he asked, not looking at any of them, his gaze fixed on the distant, beautiful horizon. "To the people who didn't get into the safe zones?"

The fragile bubble of humor popped. The three adults fell silent, the weight of the unspoken answer pressing down on them. Riley could imagine it. She could see the black, roiling clouds from the night before, not dissipating, but descending, consuming everything, a tide of shadow filled with hungry red eyes. She saw the faces of the people shoving and clawing at the pillars of light, their panic turning to abject terror as the darkness swallowed them. She shoved the images into a deep, dark box in the back of her mind and slammed the lid shut.

Michael, predictably, was an unreadable mask of stone. He offered no words of comfort, his green eyes simply continuing their ceaseless scan of the perimeter. He was not a man built for platitudes.

Emma was the one who moved first. The bravado melted from her face, replaced by a look of genuine, if clumsy, sympathy. She stepped over to the boy and put a heavy, comforting hand on his shoulder. "Hey. Kiddo." Her voice was softer now, all the boisterous energy gone. "What happened, happened. It sucks. It sucks more than anything. But we can't… we can't carry it with us. Better to leave it behind."

The boy sniffled, a wet, hiccupping sound. He wiped his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie and gave a small, jerky nod.

Michael broke the heavy silence, his voice a practical, grounding rumble. He shouldered his sword, the movement fluid and decisive. "How about we take a look around?"

Yeah, that sounded infinitely better than standing around and sulking, Riley thought, a flicker of her old pragmatism cutting through the awe.

The sheer scale of this new world was daunting. The emerald meadow stretched in every direction, a vast, open space that was both beautiful and terrifyingly exposed. In this state, with almost zero intelligence on their surroundings, they couldn't risk splitting up. A lone human was an easy meal, no matter how docile the local wildlife seemed. So, of course, the SUV became their mobile base of operations, a small metal island in a sea of green. Good thing she'd had the presence of mind to keep it inside the barrier when the world went dark.

The monsters dotting the landscape paid them little mind. They weren't just non-aggressive, they were actively timid, scattering like nervous birds as the SUV rumbled past, its engine a rude interruption to the pastoral silence. They drove east, chasing the morning sun, for nearly an hour. The rolling hills of the meadow gradually gave way to a flatter, more open plain, the soil darker and richer.

Emma, her hands steady on the wheel, suddenly squinted, leaning forward against the dashboard. Her voice, when it came, was a bark of disbelief. "Is that a fucking river ahead?"

She brought the car to a halt, and the four of them scrambled out. Sure enough, there was a river. It wasn't a raging torrent, but a wide, gentle ribbon of water, its current slow and lazy, its depths so clear they could see the smooth, colorful stones on the riverbed. The sight of clean, running water after the filth and fire of the city was like a balm for the soul. Emma, Michael, and Andy let out whoops of relief and sprinted towards the bank, eager to splash the cool water on their faces.

Riley, however, stayed by the car, a thoughtful frown on her face. And in that quiet moment of contemplation, the system chose to speak directly to her, its voice a clean, melodic chime in her mind.

[Your item is now usable.]

Riley froze, her brain taking a moment to process the words. Land Deed? What the hell was that? Then it clicked, a memory from what felt like a lifetime ago. Oh, yeah. The first golden chest, on the rooftop. Amidst the chaos, she'd grabbed a heavy, golden card with a matte black border. She hadn't given it a second thought since.

Her hand dove into her , the mental command instantaneous. The card materialized in her palm, its weight solid and real, the intricate engravings seeming to shift in the morning light. She didn't even have to use , the system volunteered the information, a clean window of text blooming in her consciousness.

[Item:

Description: Allows the user to claim ownership of a designated area, becoming its Land Owner. The owner has full rights to the land and can permit or forbid entry to others. The owned area can be expanded by spending Coins.]

Riley's eyes widened until they felt like they were going to pop out of her skull.

Claim ownership of land? Become a Land Owner? What in the fresh hell was this? Was this some kind of cosmic compensation package? Had a bored god looked at her previous life - a slow, gray death by spreadsheet - and decided to just start dropping ridiculously overpowered cheat codes on her head?

But whatever the reason, Riley was fucking ready. Because why not?

She held the card, a silent question forming in her mind. How do I use this thing?

The instant the thought formed, the card in her hand pulsed with a soft light. Below her, the ground itself responded. A grid of pale blue light spread out from her feet, expanding rapidly until it covered a massive, rectangular area. It was easily the size of a football field. That was the land she could own. Riley, whose entire net worth was previously tied up in a crappy, shoebox-sized apartment, felt her heart, which had already been through a lifetime's worth of stress, hammer against her ribs as if trying to escape.

She forced it down, shoving the giddy shock aside. Her brain, honed by years of data analysis, clicked into calculation mode. This place… it was actually perfect. The terrain was flat, ideal for building on. The local monster population seemed to consist of Grade-F herbivores. And by some miracle, there was a river nearby, a source of fresh water that was literally the foundation of any civilization.

Sure, there might be better, safer, more resource-rich places out there somewhere, but she had no way of finding them, and no guarantee she'd survive the journey. This was a sure thing, a gift horse whose mouth she had no intention of inspecting. So, yeah. This was the place.

Obviously, the plot of land she owned needed to be a safe distance from the river. Being near the river was a massive advantage, but being right on the river felt like an invitation for trouble. Who knew what kind of fanged, tentacled horrors might lurk beneath that placid surface? And what about rainy seasons? Floods? Better safe than sorry.

She jogged away from the riverbank, her eyes on the blue grid that moved with her, until she was at a distance that felt secure but still convenient. Satisfied, she stopped, took a deep breath, and focused her will on the card. Use.

The card shot from her hand, hovering in the air for a moment before plummeting to the earth. The instant it touched the ground, it didn't just grow, it exploded into a sheet of golden data that perfectly covered the blue-lit grid. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the light vanished, sinking into the soil, leaving the ground looking exactly as it had before.

But in Riley's mind, a new, triumphant message appeared, solidifying her new reality.

[Congratulations! You have become a Land Owner.]

A giddy, proprietary thrill, sharp and intoxicating, shot through Riley. Land Owner. The words echoed in her mind, a title so grand and absurd it was almost laughable. She, who had just yesterday been fighting for the right to a cubicle with a non-wobbly chair, was now the sovereign ruler of a patch of pristine, post-apocalyptic grass. A small, incredulous smile played on her lips as she looked out over her new domain, feeling like a little queen surveying her ridiculously green, slightly weird-looking kingdom. It was the single greatest upgrade of her entire life.

She didn't even have time to properly savor the moment. Before the smile could fully form, another clean, crisp notification window bloomed in her consciousness, sliding in right under the first one like a fresh email in an overflowing inbox.

[Activation condition has been met. can now be used.]

Riley's nascent joy stuttered and stalled. A frown creased her brow. Used? What did that mean? She could already use it. She'd used it just last night, a giant golden hamster ball that had saved their collective asses from being consumed by a Cthulhu-esque cloud of nightmares. Was this a bug? A system hiccup? Oh, wait, it was just , and not a whole skill, right?

Before she could even begin to puzzle it out, the system, with the relentless efficiency of a corporate auto-responder, clarified.

Wait a minute.

[You now possess a Land Deed. The skill will automatically apply to the designated territory.]

Wait!

[Your land has been permanently designated as a .]

Wait a fucking minute!

[ has been established. The following functions are now available: , , , , .]

Riley just stood there, completely motionless, her eyes wide and unfocused. The stream of notifications finally ceased, leaving a profound silence in her mind that was filled only by the frantic thumping of her own heart.

"Okay, let's calm down," Riley said out loud, the words a quiet anchor in the dizzying sea of her new reality. She addressed the empty air, and mostly, herself. "Whatever the hell is happening, it's clearly working in my favor."

She took a long, slow breath, the clean air filling her lungs, and centered herself. In the quiet space of her mind, she whispered the command, 'Manage'.

And just like that, a semi-translucent window of crisp, white text materialized in the air before her, hovering at eye level like a ghost's teleprompter. It was clean, minimalist, and terrifyingly real. Riley's eyes scanned the panel, reading from the top down, her gaze widening with every line until she felt they might detach from her skull. The sheer, game-breaking utility of it all was staggering.

Okay. First things first. , just as the name implied, was the central control hub for her new territory. The master key to her own private kingdom.

The primary function listed on the panel was a simple roster system. She could register specific individuals as 'members', granting them full, unrestricted access to the Safe Zone. A little further down, she could also designate others as 'visitors'. Visitors could also move freely within her borders, but only for a duration she set herself. A day pass versus a lifetime membership. The thought was so absurdly bureaucratic that a hysterical giggle almost escaped her.

Of course, this didn't mean her land was surrounded by an invisible, impenetrable wall. That would be too simple. People who were neither members nor visitors could still walk right in. They were just… not on the guest list. And for uninvited guests, the party was about to get a lot less fun, thanks to the next feature.

. This was a passive, always-on effect, a constant, low-humming field of power that permeated every blade of grass in her territory. And its effects were beautifully, brutally straightforward. As the owner, any damage she sustained while inside the Safe Zone was automatically reduced by a staggering fifty percent. Her 'members', in turn, would receive a very generous twenty-five percent damage reduction.

Visitors? They got nothing. A free walk in the park was all the hospitality they could expect.

And for the intruders, the uninvited, the ones who dared to cross her invisible property line with ill intent? The system had a special surprise for them. Any damage they received while trespassing would be increased by twenty-five percent. They were walking into a meat grinder, and they wouldn't even know it until the blades started to spin.

Yeah, this was useful. This was beyond useful. This was a god-tier survival tool. As long as Riley stayed within her borders, she was practically a tank. Her safety was all but guaranteed, provided she had a few loyal 'members' to act as her guards.

Then there was . This was a more… proactive feature. From the manage panel, she could place a bounty on up to five specific individuals. Anyone tagged with this debuff, upon entering her Safe Zone, would not only suffer the twenty-five percent damage vulnerability from , but would also be slapped with a twenty percent reduction to their movement speed and a twenty percent nerf to the damage they dealt. It was the perfect tool for singling out a particularly nasty enemy, turning them from a predator into a slow, clumsy, pillow-fisted target for everyone to punch.

It was a perfect fortress, a haven designed for defense and control. But for the worst-case scenario, for the moment when the walls were about to be breached and all hell was breaking loose, there was the final option: .

She knew this one intimately. It was the golden dome of energy she had already used twice to save their lives. But now, it was on an entirely different scale. When activated, the shimmering, honey-gold barrier wouldn't just form around her. It would erupt to encompass the entire Safe Zone, a football field-sized bubble of absolute sanctuary. And it wasn't just a wall. The activation was a violent, celestial bouncer. It would physically launch anyone who wasn't a member or a visitor clean out of the territory, while simultaneously inflicting a nasty jolt of damage on them for their troubles.

Well, this was good. This was, in Riley's considered and slightly overwhelmed opinion, too damn good.

The functions scrolled on, a laundry list of divine administrative powers that made Riley's head spin. But as her eyes drifted past the security protocols and the bounty system, they snagged on a single, unassuming tab at the bottom of the holographic panel. It was labeled, simply, 'Build'.

Her breath hitched. Build things? The notion was so unexpected, so profoundly out of left field, that she physically rubbed her eyes, half-convinced the exhaustion was finally making her hallucinate. But the tab remained, solid and unwavering in the morning air. With a hesitant, almost reverent mental command, she selected it.

The panel shifted, replaced by a new menu that looked suspiciously like the crafting interface from a video game. It was a simple grid, displaying a handful of blueprints. At present, her options were laughably primitive, the absolute starter pack for any self-respecting apocalypse survivor. She could build 'Campfire', 'Small Canvas Tent', 'Wooden Storage Box', and 'Wooden Fence'. That was it. The sum total of her architectural prowess.

Why only these four? The question had barely formed in her mind when the system, ever the helpful and slightly condescending narrator, provided the answer in a small, parenthetical note at the top of the screen. Her Safe Zone, it turned out, had a level. And at the moment, that level was a big, fat zero. A rookie number. A starting-line statistic. If she wanted to graduate from flimsy tents and basic bonfires to something more substantial, she was going to have to level the place up.

And how did one go about doing that? A familiar, and slightly dreaded, word appeared next to the 'Level Up' button: Coins. Of course. It always came down to money. Even building the basic items wasn't free, each blueprint had a small but non-negotiable Coin cost listed beneath it.

A weary sigh escaped Riley's lips, and she rolled her eyes so hard. "Geez," she muttered to the empty air. It was the great cosmic constant. Whether you were slaving away in a fluorescent-lit cubicle farm or trying to establish a foothold in a new, monster-infested reality, the bottom line was always the bottom line. But what the hell, she couldn't really complain. She couldn't afford to. Not when the universe had just handed her a private, customizable fortress with a built-in security system. This was, all things considered, a pretty fantastic problem to have.

But it was still a problem. She needed Coins. A lot of them. Sure, she could venture out into the great green yonder, play the role of the mighty huntress, and slay every feathery-eared rabbit and sparkly-horned goat she came across. Yada, yada, yada. It was a viable option, but it was also slow, dangerous, and frankly, a lot of work.

Her eyes drifted back to the main  panel, scanning the list of functions again. She had been so captivated by the building and security features that she had glossed over the last one on the list, a function with a name so deliciously sinister it practically dripped with malevolent bureaucracy: .

Now that sounded interesting.

She selected it, and a detailed description bloomed in her mind. It was an automated system, a passive income generator of the highest order. Every registered 'member' who benefited from the protection of her Safe Zone, who enjoyed the damage reduction and the promise of an emergency golden bubble, would be subject to it. Any time they earned Coins, whether it was from slaying a monster just outside her borders or, as the description tantalizingly hinted, from trading with other players, Riley would automatically receive a cut. A tidy ten percent, skimmed right off the top.

Riley's eyebrows shot up. So, trading between players was a thing. That was a game-changer, a piece of information she filed away for later. The more immediate implication, however, was that she had just found her golden goose. Her members would go out, do the dirty work, take the risks, and she would get a steady, reliable stream of income for doing absolutely nothing but providing a safe place to sleep. It was the perfect landlord-tenant relationship, albeit with slightly more monster-slaying and a distinct lack of plumbing issues.

She was about to indulge in a moment of gleeful, capitalistic satisfaction when she read the fine print. And it was in that fine print that the true, staggering genius of the skill revealed itself.

The ten percent tax… it wasn't actually taken from her members.

If, for example, Emma went out and managed to kill ten Grade-F goats, earning herself a respectable 100 Coins, Riley would receive 10 Coins. But Emma would still get the full 100 Coins. Her earnings wouldn't be diminished by a single, solitary copper piece. The system wasn't taxing them. The system was creating the money out of thin air and giving it to Riley as a commission.

Her jaw went slack. A slow, incredulous smile spread across her face. This wasn't a tax. This wasn't steal. This was… a miracle. The name, , was a beautiful, hilarious, and utterly misleading lie. It was a feature designed to sound ruthless and exploitative, but in reality, it was the most benevolent, win-win economic model she could possibly imagine. It was a reward system, a dividend paid out by the universe itself for the simple act of providing a sanctuary.

A low, breathless laugh escaped her.

The joyous shouts from the riverbank pulled Riley from her stupor. She watched as Emma, Michael, and Andy made their way back, their faces flushed and spirits clearly lifted by the cool, clean water. They were laughing, a sound so jarringly normal it felt like a broadcast from another universe. When they saw her standing alone, a good fifty yards from the SUV, their laughter died. A shared look of concern passed between them, and their pace quickened from a stroll to a jog, their boots kicking up tufts of the impossibly green grass.

But the moment their feet crossed the invisible line of her new domain, they all stopped dead. It was a synchronous, jarring halt, as if they had simultaneously run face-first into a wall of glass. Andy stumbled, catching himself before he fell. Emma's hands went to her hips, her head tilting in confusion. Michael simply went still, his hand instinctively dropping to the pommel of his sword, his eyes narrowing as they scanned the empty air around them.

They were feeling it. Riley could practically see the sensation wash over them. First, the profound, soul-deep feeling of safety, a warmth that seeped into the bones and promised that here, in this specific patch of dirt, nothing could truly harm them. It was a feeling like coming home after a long, terrifying journey. But it was immediately followed by a second, opposing sensation: a subtle, invisible pressure, a weight on their shoulders that hadn't been there a second before, a constant, low-humming reminder that they were guests in someone else's space.

"What the hell, Riley?" Emma's voice was the first to break the silence. She frowned, patting her own arms and shoulders as if searching for a physical restraint. The pressure was more acute for her, the vulnerability more pronounced. It was the feeling of a predator suddenly realizing it had walked into another's den. "What did you do?"

It was Michael who put the pieces together. His gaze, sharp and analytical, flicked from the ground, to the air, and then settled on Riley, a flicker of dawning comprehension in his green eyes. "You're a land owner now?"

Riley's eyebrow arched in a slow, deliberate motion. A genuine smile, the first she could remember in years that wasn't a strained, polite mask, touched her lips. "You noticed?"

Emma's eyes widened in disbelief, then rolled so hard it was a miracle they stayed in their sockets. "Uh, yeah, I noticed!" she snapped, pointing a thumb over her shoulder at the invisible boundary line. "The system blasted a notification in my head the second I stepped in here! 'You have entered a private Safe Zone.' What's that about?"

"Yeah," Riley said, her voice quiet, almost a whisper against the soft sigh of the wind. "That's my skill."

A light breeze swept across the plain, rustling the grass and lifting a few strands of her brown hair, making them dance around her face. It felt… crazy. After years of selling her soul to capitalism, of molding herself into a compliant, faceless corporate drone whose only purpose was to generate profit for someone else, she was finally something. After the world had ended and been reborn, Riley finally had a purpose that was entirely her own. So this is what power feels like? It wasn't the loud, domineering force she'd always imagined. It was a quiet, unshakeable certainty. A deep, foundational strength that emanated from the very ground beneath her feet.

Whatever it was, it felt incredible. The sensation was a warm, intoxicating rush, a feeling so potent it straightened her spine, making her stand just a little bit taller. The smile on her face widened, real and radiant, a universe away from the soulless, plastic grins she had plastered on for condescending managers and gossiping coworkers. For the first time, standing before a pink-haired brawler who could punch through concrete and a golden-haired swordsman who moved like a demigod, Riley felt like she was standing on the same level. And goddammit, it was the most amazing feeling in the world.

She crossed her arms, the posture relaxed and confident. "Basically," she began, explaining it in the simplest terms she could, "I own this piece of land now. And my Safe Zone skill is permanently applied to it."

To punctuate the statement, she accessed the build menu in her mind. With a flicker of thought and a silent, painful farewell to twenty of her precious Coins, she selected the campfire blueprint. In a swirl of golden data motes, a neat circle of stones materialized on the grass, followed by a perfectly arranged pile of kindling that burst into a cheerful, crackling flame.

The effect was instantaneous. Andy gasped, his eyes wide with wonder. Emma's jaw dropped. Even Michael's stoic expression cracked with a flicker of unconcealed surprise. The minor sting of the expense was immediately soothed by the sheer, unadulterated coolness of the moment.

Riley looked up from the dancing flames, her eyes meeting theirs, her expression open and direct. "So," she said, her voice clear and steady. "Do you guys want to become members of this zone?"

"Yes," Michael said immediately. His answer was short, decisive, and utterly devoid of hesitation. He had already calculated the immense strategic advantage.

Andy, still mesmerized by the magic fire, nodded his head so vigorously he almost fell over.

Emma, still processing the sudden shift in the group's power dynamic, just shrugged, a lopsided grin returning to her face. "Uhm, yes, obviously. I'm not about to be the only outsider in the group. We're a pack, right?"

Riley's smile was warm and genuine. With a few swift mental commands through the  panel, she registered them all.

And just like that, in a field of impossible green under a newborn sun, they became the first three members of her Safe Zone.

The moment Riley's command registered in the system, the invisible pressure on Emma, Michael, and Andy vanished as if it had never been there. The subtle, persistent feeling of being an intruder was replaced by an all-encompassing sense of peace. The warmth from the magically-conjured fire seemed to seep deeper into their bones, the gentle breeze felt more like a caress, and the very air tasted of safety.

Emma let out a long, whooshing sigh, her shoulders slumping in visible relief. She stretched her arms above her head with a loud groan of satisfaction. "Whoa. Okay, that is a huge difference. It feels like I can finally breathe properly in here."

Andy, who had been tensed like a cornered animal, visibly relaxed, a small, genuine smile finally reaching his eyes. Michael's change was less dramatic but no less profound, the rigid, combat-ready posture he constantly maintained eased by a fraction, the hand that had been hovering near his sword now resting loosely at his side. They all took a moment to look around, a shared sense of profound relief settling over them. They were home. Or, at least, something that felt very much like it.

Riley watched their reactions, a small, satisfied smile on her face. But internally, her mind was already racing. She quickly pulled up the  panel again, her eyes zeroing in on her Coin balance. The number staring back at her was painfully, pitifully low. After paying for the barrier extension last night and the token campfire just now, she barely had enough left to build a single tent. It was hard to get anything done, let alone level up her territory, when she was this broke. So, first things first, she needed to earn some goddamn Coins.

She dismissed the holographic panel from her vision and adopted an air of casual confidence. "How about we go hunt for a bit?" she suggested, her voice light as she gestured out towards the rolling meadow. "Those rabbits and goats look like they might be edible."

And that was true. Her  skill had indeed confirmed that the meat of the local fauna was perfectly safe for consumption, a fact that was a welcome relief. Those creatures, with their feathery ears and pearlescent fleece, looked a hell of a lot more appetizing than the demonic monkeys, skeletal birds, and mangy dogs they'd been fighting the day before. But it was the Coins they would drop upon death that Riley was truly after.

The others were quick to agree. The idea of securing a fresh source of food was an obvious and appealing goal.

Riley trailed behind them as they headed out, stepping across the invisible boundary of her Safe Zone. It was still too soon to lock herself away inside her fortress and let others do all the work. She needed to understand this new world, and she needed to be seen as an active, contributing member of the group, not just a landlord hiding behind her magical walls. Soon, perhaps, but not right now. She also had no intention of revealing the finer details of her skill, especially not the part about her phantom ten percent commission. That was a trade secret she would be keeping very close to her chest.

As the warmth and absolute safety of her territory faded behind her, replaced by the wild, untamed openness of the meadow, the easy smile on Riley's face dissolved. Her eyes grew cold, a calculating glint appearing in their depths. Her expression hardened into one of quiet, focused seriousness.

As much as she was starting to enjoy their company, as much as she appreciated their strength, the simple, unavoidable truth was that they had only known each other since yesterday afternoon. As a person with a normal, functioning brain that hadn't been completely addled by the apocalypse, Riley was not about to place her entire trust in them.

Well, let's see how this goes, she thought, her hand slipping casually into the pocket of her cargo pants. Her fingers closed around the cool, smooth, bone-white frame of her pistol. For now, in this beautiful, terrifying new world, she could only truly trust herself.

Surviving the end of the world was a long, brutal journey. And goddammit, Riley would ensure that she, and her Safe Zone, would last until the very end.

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