"So, what are we gonna do?"
Emma asked, her voice a little too loud in the morning quiet. She stood with her hands on her hips, a splash of vibrant pink against the endless green, staring at a cluster of feathery-eared rabbits nibbling on wildflowers.
"Seriously, are we just going to murder these innocent creatures?"
Michael, who had been methodically sharpening his longsword on a flat river stone, didn't even look up. "They are your lunch and your dinner," he said, his voice as cold and flat as the steel he was honing. The sympathy he possessed for Emma's moral dilemma could fit on the point of a pin, with room to spare.
"But these rabbits are so cute and fluffy!" Emma protested, scratching the back of her head in frustration. "Look at their little twitchy noses! It feels wrong. Like kicking a puppy."
Riley stood a little ways off, the bone-white pistol held loosely in her hand, its weight a familiar comfort. Andy stood near her, his own gaze fixed on the placid, shimmering goats. She had to admit, Emma had a point. They did look innocent. They weren't breathing fire or trying to tear out her throat. The thought of gunning one down felt less like a heroic act of survival and more like something a cartoon villain would do. Riley wasn't the kind of person who would just walk up and attack a creature that posed no threat.
But, at the moment, Riley figured that was a luxury she couldn't afford.
Priorities, she reminded herself. The first was survival, and they had a tenuous grasp on that. After that, maybe they could start a post-apocalyptic animal preservation society. For now, there was a more pressing matter. Those cute, fluffy, innocent-looking creatures were walking, hopping, jiggling bags of Coins, and her new kingdom wasn't going to build itself.
So, she raised the pistol, the barrel glinting in the clean sunlight, and took aim.
Emma saw the movement and let out a long, dramatic sigh that ruffled her pink bangs. "Okay, okay, it's fine!" she said, throwing her hands up in surrender. "I'll do it. Just… let me have a moment to say goodbye to my innocence."
The moment right after she spoke, the world held its breath, and then it broke.
The sky didn't darken, it twisted. The placid blue ripped open like fabric, and from the tear, a spear of interwoven black and crimson energy screamed from the heavens. It didn't fall so much as it lunged, striking a patch of meadow a few hundred yards away with a soundless, concussive force. The impact was so sudden and so violent that it threw the four of them back a step, their ears ringing from a sound that hadn't even happened.
A furious wind erupted from the impact point, a localized hurricane that flattened the grass and sent a storm of loose petals and soil into the air. The gale howled, whipping Riley's hair across her face like a stinging curtain. She threw an arm up to shield her eyes, squinting into the chaos, her heart hammering a frantic, panicked rhythm against her ribs. Every docile creature in sight bolted, the rabbits becoming brown blurs, the goats scattering with bleats of terror, the blue slimes jiggling away with surprising speed. A deep, grinding rumble vibrated up from the soles of her feet, the sound of the world itself groaning in protest.
Where the beam of dark energy had struck, the earth began to swell. It wasn't an explosion, but a sickening, unnatural growth, like a tumor of soil and rock pushing up from below. The ground churned and rose until the rumbling subsided, and a great, ugly mound of earth stood where flat meadow had been just seconds before. It looked like the entrance to a cave, a dark, gaping maw that had been violently birthed into the world.
But the entrance itself wasn't dark. It was filled with a shimmering, hypnotic vortex of sapphire blue light that swirled and pulsed with a slow, steady rhythm.
The four of them exchanged a single, wide-eyed look that spoke volumes, a silent conversation of 'what the actual hell was that?' Then, as one, they broke into a sprint, closing the distance to the strange new landmark. They skidded to a halt before the portal, a palpable energy washing over them, a static charge that prickled their skin and made the small hairs on their arms stand on end.
While the others stared, their weapons held at the ready, Riley's mind was already working. She focused on the swirling blue anomaly, her internal command sharp and clear. Appraise.
A window of clean text bloomed in her vision, and her breath caught in her throat. She lowered the pistol, her voice a soft, awe-struck whisper that was almost lost in the hum of the portal.
"This is… a dungeon."
Emma, Michael, and Andy tore their eyes away from the mesmerizing sight and snapped their heads toward Riley, their expressions a mixture of confusion, alarm, and a dawning, terrible excitement.
Lucky for Riley, the others didn't get a chance to ask how she knew. The system's voice, as impersonal as a tombstone, chimed in their minds, a clean, holographic script blooming in their collective consciousness.
[You have discovered the F-Grade Dungeon:
[Upon entering the dungeon, you will face the challenges within. Completion will result in a reward.]
[Good luck, players.]
Riley's brow furrowed, her gaze fixed on the hypnotic, swirling portal. Emma slapped her hands together, a spark of gamer-glee in her eyes. "Okay, I've played a few games. Dungeon means we go in, smash stuff, and get shiny things, right? Simple."
Andy bit his lip, his voice a nervous tremor. "I… I hope it's not one of those dungeons with complicated puzzles."
And Michael? Well, Michael looked about as worried as a boulder in a stream. He glanced from the shimmering vortex to the faces of his companions, his expression unreadable. "We have to go in," he stated, his voice a simple declaration of fact. "It's only F-Grade. It shouldn't be too difficult."
Riley took a deep, slow breath. She didn't argue, but a cold, sarcastic thought slithered through her mind. Oh, yeah. F-Grade. Wasn't it just yesterday that an entire city was thrown into a meat grinder by a plague of F-Grade monsters? Yeah, she wouldn't be getting complacent. Not for a second.
But… it was a dungeon. It was a challenge, a signpost from the system. And in this new world, challenges were just another word for opportunities. Were they really going to just walk away from an opportunity?
Obviously not.
One by one, they stepped forward, plunging into the rippling curtain of sapphire light. The world dissolved for a moment, a brief, dizzying sensation of being pulled through a straw, and then reformed around them.
[You have entered the dungeon:
Before them lay a meadow, but not the kind of lush, vibrant sea of green they had just left behind. This meadow was a landscape of impossible alabaster. Every single blade of grass, every delicate petal on the scattered flowers, was a stark, ghostly white. The air was still, sterile, and silent.
"Whoa," Emma breathed. "So this is, like, a different dimension?"
"Probably," Riley murmured, her hand tightening around the grip of her pistol.
The system's voice cut through the eerie silence once more, its tone as clinical as a surgeon's scalpel.
[Objective 1: Exterminate 100 Mutated Horned Rabbits.]
The four of them instantly snapped into a defensive formation, their backs to each other, a small island of grim readiness in the sea of white. A low, thrumming vibration started under their feet, accompanied by the faint, scratching sounds of something digging, fast and furious.
In a heartbeat, a grey shadow exploded from the ground, a furry missile aimed directly at Riley's throat.
It was impossibly fast. Riley's brain had barely registered the threat before a black-clad shadow materialized in front of her. Michael moved with a speed that defied his size, a blur of motion. A long leg snapped out, and the crack of boot meeting bone echoed in the quiet air. The grey blur was sent tumbling, end over end, through the white grass.
An icy prickle of adrenaline shot down Riley's spine. Her heart did a frantic tap-dance against her ribs. That speed… she wouldn't have had time to raise her gun, let alone fire. She would have been skewered.
The grey shape skidded to a halt, righting itself with a furious snarl. Now they could see it clearly. It was a rabbit, but it bore as much resemblance to the feathery-eared creatures outside as a shark does to a goldfish. This thing was a predator. Its fur was a matted, dirty grey, its body twice the size of a normal rabbit, corded with wiry muscle. A single, wickedly sharp horn, black as obsidian, jutted from its forehead, and its eyes burned with a malevolent, ruby-red light. Most importantly, it was the first thing they'd encountered in this new world that had attacked without a single shred of provocation.
Riley's eyes narrowed, her
[Monster: Mutated Horned Rabbit
Grade: F
Description: A fiercely aggressive creature found in low-level dungeons. Possesses extremely high speed and agility. Its horn is capable of piercing solid rock…]
She didn't even get to finish reading. The rabbit, undeterred by Michael's kick, lowered its head and charged again, its horn aimed like a lance.
This time, it wasn't alone. The ground around them erupted. All at once, the soft, white earth was torn asunder as dozens of grey shapes burst forth, a chittering, snarling tide of horned death. The thrumming vibration became a deafening roar as the meadow itself came alive with monsters, all of them turning their burning red eyes on the four intruders.
But, also, this time, they were ready. Well, at least Emma and Michael were.
Michael was a silver blur in the sea of white and grey. His longsword scythed through the air with a sound like tearing silk, and with every pass, rabbit heads tumbled through the ghost-white grass like macabre bowling pins. He made it look so damn simple, so infuriatingly easy, which, for Riley, who was currently busy executing a rather undignified sidestep to avoid being impaled, was just a little bit annoying.
Emma, on the other hand, adapted with the ferocity of a cornered badger. There was no finesse, only brutal, beautiful efficiency. Her fists and feet became hammers, each blow landing with a wet, percussive crunch. She pivoted, driving her fist into the side of a charging rabbit's head, the force of the impact sending it sailing through the air to land in a motionless, broken heap.
Even the youngest one, Andy, was finding his footing. His eyes glowed, and crimson beams lanced out into the fray. His control was a bit clanky, the beams wobbling like a fire hose with a mind of its own, but every time a rabbit exploded into a shower of gore and steam, it was one less furry missile for the others to deal with. He was a huge help.
And Riley? Well, aside from the occasional sharp CRACK from her pistol that dropped a rabbit mid-leap, she had a different, far more important job to do.
With every rabbit that fell to Michael's sword or Emma's fists, a tiny, satisfying ding of a notification bloomed in her mind's eye. Her Coin balance was ticking upward, a slow but steady stream of phantom income. She also had the luxury of time to finish reading the
So, she did the only logical thing a budding post-apocalyptic land baroness with a pocket dimension could do: she started collecting the bodies.
Yeah, they were a bit gruesome, their red eyes staring blankly at the white sky, but meat was meat. And, more importantly, there was probably a Grade F core inside each one, and those cores were the bullets for her only reliable weapon. While the others were a whirlwind of combat, Riley ducked low, her movements quick and economical. She grabbed a dead rabbit by its ears, and with a mental command, it vanished in a shimmer of blue light, safely tucked away in her
A flush of awkwardness heated Riley's cheeks, the feeling of being caught doing something weird, even in the middle of a battle for their lives. But the man just smirked, a quick, fleeting thing that barely creased his face, before turning his attention back to the next wave of charging monsters without a word.
As much as Riley had braced for another life-or-death struggle, Michael had been right. They were just F-Grade monsters. The sheer overwhelming presence of him and Emma on the front lines was more than enough to handle the horde. With Andy providing covering fire from the back, and Riley occasionally picking off a straggler, the process became less of a desperate battle and more of a brutally efficient harvest.
The slaughter was... disturbingly efficient. To Riley, whose most violent act prior to the apocalypse had been aggressively unsubscribing from junk mail, it felt like it should have taken an eternity. Instead, it was over in what felt like minutes. The ghost-white grass was now painted with splashes of crimson, a grotesque art installation in this sterile, silent dimension.
Michael, a calm island in the sea of carnage, pivoted on his heel. His longsword, a flash of silver against the white, drew a final, perfect arc through the air. The last Mutated Horned Rabbit, mid-charge, was neatly bisected, its two halves tumbling in opposite directions.
The moment the body hit the ground, the system's voice chimed, clean and crisp in all their minds.
[Objective 1 has been completed.]
[Reward: 200 Coins for each participant.]
Now that was a sound Riley could get used to. A jolt of pure, unadulterated greed, sharp and delicious, shot through her. She immediately checked her internal balance, and sure enough, the sad, meager number that had been haunting her had swelled by a beautiful, plump 200. She could build a tent! Maybe even two!
But her brief, beautiful moment of financial solvency evaporated before she could even properly savor it, as the system, with the impeccable timing of a bad comedian, chimed in again.
[Objective 2: Exterminate 200 Mutated Horned Rabbits.]
And with that, the ground began to tremble again. The same thrumming, scratching sound echoed from beneath the white earth, but this time it was deeper, angrier. All around them, fresh geysers of soil erupted, and a new, even larger tide of grey, red-eyed death burst forth. The battle was back on.
"I'm not complaining, but… this is getting a little repetitive, you know?" Emma yelled, her voice punctuated by the sickening crunch of her fist connecting with a rabbit's skull. She sent the creature flying with the ease of someone punting a football. "There's only so many ways you can punch a rabbit before it loses its charm!"
As if the dungeon itself had heard her plea for variety, the system's voice cut in, this time with a hint of something new.
[
A streak of molten gold, faster than anything they had seen before, zipped across the battlefield. It wasn't just a blur, it was a living sunbeam, weaving through the chaos with an impossible, liquid grace. Unlike the other rabbits, which were locked into their ramrod-straight charges, this one leaped, juked, and changed direction on a whim, a golden phantom in the white meadow.
"What the hell was that?" Emma shouted, momentarily distracted.
[Due to the appearance of
[Due to the appearance of
"Oh, crap," Riley whispered, the words snatched from her lips as she threw herself sideways. A grey blur, moving with a speed that was noticeably, terrifyingly faster than before, shot past where her chest had been, its horn gouging a deep furrow in the pale earth.
The system wasn't lying. The rabbits were stronger. Their charges were more ferocious, their movements quicker, the red in their eyes burning with a fresh, more potent malevolence. The casual harvest was over. This was a real fight again.
The others had no time to process the change, their bodies reacting with pure instinct. Emma's complaint about boredom was answered with a vengeance, and she met it with a savage, joyous grin. She wasn't just punching anymore. With a roar, she leaped high into the air, then brought her boot down with the force of a falling anvil. The ground buckled, sending a shockwave rippling outwards that sent a dozen nearby rabbits stumbling, their footing lost. Before they could recover, her fists were a blur, each punch a bone-shattering thunderclap that sent the staggered creatures flying.
Michael's sword became a phantom. His hand moved so fast it left afterimages, the air whining with the passage of the blade. He didn't need grand movements, a flick of the wrist here, a slight turn of the shoulder there, and he wove a silver tapestry of death, clearing entire sections of the horde around him with chilling precision.
Even Andy had found his rhythm. The wild, uncontrolled sprays of energy were gone. Now, his eyes glowed with a steady, focused light, and precise, deadly lances of crimson energy shot out, each one finding its mark, turning a charging rabbit into a cloud of steam and ash.
Riley, however, had no time to admire their prowess. Her new, lucrative side hustle of corpse-collecting was officially on hold. She was too busy dodging, her entire world narrowed down to the next grey missile aimed at her vitals. She certainly had no desire to find out what one of those obsidian horns would feel like skewering her insides.
Compared to the other three, a brutal brawler, a master swordsman, and a human laser cannon, her own combat power felt laughably inadequate. But that didn't mean she was helpless. She refused to think that way. She refused to be dead weight.
The CRACK of her pistol became a steady, rhythmic punctuation to the chaos. An azure beam would lance out, dropping a rabbit mid-leap, giving her a precious half-second to breathe before the next one charged. Her focus was absolute, her movements economical. Dodge, pivot, fire. Dodge, pivot, fire. The crimson core in her gun flickered and died, turning to dust. Without missing a beat, her hand shot to her pocket, slapped a fresh, glowing crystal into the slot with a practiced click, and resumed the barrage.
And all the while, as she fought and dodged, her eyes, that one perfect, 20/20 vanity from her old life, were constantly scanning. She wasn't just looking for the next threat. She was hunting the golden blur.
The world became a high-speed ballet of violence, and Riley, to her own profound astonishment, was dancing.
Everything was moving too fast, a frantic, lethal blur. Yet, somehow, she was keeping up. A cold, analytical part of her brain, a part she never knew existed, marveled at the absurdity of it all. Just the previous morning, she had been an office worker with zero interest in anything that required physical activity. Climbing three flights of stairs was enough to leave her winded and gasping like a landed fish. Carrying a week's worth of groceries from the entrance to her apartment was an ordeal that made her want to lie motionless on her bed for the rest of the day.
But now? Now, it was unbelievable. She dodged, she moved, she fired her weapon with a precision that felt instinctual, and at the same time, her eyes never stopped tracking the golden phantom that was tearing chaotically across the white meadow.
Oh, no. Not chaotic.
Riley's brow furrowed. She took two swift steps to her left, the obsidian horn of a charging rabbit whistling past her cheek, and in the same fluid motion, she pivoted, lowered her pistol, and shot the creature in the leg. It stumbled, its momentum carrying it forward, and she put a second azure beam straight through its head. A flicker of suspicion flashed in her sea-blue eyes as she continued to trace the golden rabbit's path. It wasn't random. There was a method to its madness, a pattern hidden in the frantic zig-zags.
She kept moving. Dodge, shoot, dodge, shoot. The rhythm became a part of her, a deadly metronome. But while her body was a whirlwind of reflexive action, her mind was moving at a thousand miles per hour, a frantic, silent calculation that no one else could see. She feinted left, drawing two rabbits in, then rolled right, coming up in a crouch behind another. CRACK. One down. She wasn't just fighting anymore. She was positioning.
She dodged a few more attacks, then another, and another, the series of movements looking like a desperate, harried retreat. But with each sidestep and every roll, she was putting more distance between herself and the others. And then, in a spot that felt strangely exposed, a spot with no cover and no allies nearby, she stopped.
In this field of motion, a stationary object was a bullseye.
A chorus of furious shrieks tore through the air as a dozen, then two dozen, rabbits locked onto the perfect, unmoving target. They lowered their horns and charged, a grey tidal wave of pure aggression, churning the white grass into a frenzy.
The others saw it instantly. "Riley!!!" Emma's roar was a raw, panicked thing, and she, Michael, and Andy immediately broke off their own fights, charging towards her with desperate speed.
But at the exact moment the rabbits were about to turn her into a fleshy pincushion, Riley saw it. A flash of gold, moving faster than anything else, rocketing straight towards her location.
A corner of her mouth quirked upwards in a cold, triumphant smirk.
A filigree of pure, honey-gold energy erupted from her body, not a shield, but a weapon. It expanded in a silent, violent shockwave. The rabbits closest to her didn't even have time to scream before they were disintegrated, their forms collapsing into clouds of fine grey dust that settled on the grass, leaving behind a scatter of glittering, ruby-red cores. The ones further out were blasted backward as if hit by a physical wall, their bodies tumbling through the air, broken and dying from the sheer force of the barrier's activation.
And inside the golden dome, alone with her, was a single, stunned, golden figure. The golden rabbit. A faint red light flickered above its head, a mark of vulnerability. Riley stood calmly, her pistol already raised and aimed, the weapon appearing in her hand as if it had been there all along.
CRACK.
The barrier vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, and in the sudden silence, a cascade of notifications bloomed in their minds.
[
[Player Riley has slain
[Due to the slaying of
It all happened so fast. By the time the others skidded to a halt beside her, it was over. How long had it been? Thirty seconds? No, probably twenty, or even less.
"Damn, girlie," Emma gasped, bending over and bracing her hands on her knees, sucking in deep breaths from her sprint. "You scared the hell out of me." She straightened up, a wide, incredulous grin spreading across her face as she clapped Riley hard on the shoulder. "But you are good. Great job, girlie. I've gotta hand it to you."
Both Michael and Andy nodded, giving her a thumbs-up. Andy's eyes were practically shining with hero worship, which, to Riley's surprise, made a hot flush of embarrassment creep up her neck.
The golden-haired man raised a single, appraising eyebrow at her. "Well done," he said, his voice a low note of approval. The simple praise from him, the strongest fighter she'd ever seen, made Riley immediately pout and turn her head away, a flimsy attempt to hide her own awkward pride.
She cleared her throat, her voice coming out a little rougher than she intended. "So," she said, gesturing with her pistol towards the remaining horde of now-glowing, frenzied rabbits. "How about we handle the rest?"
The others needed no further encouragement. With a collective roar that was part battle cry and part gold-rush fever, they charged back into the fray. Michael gave a sharp, affirmative nod, his golden hair catching the sterile white light of the dungeon. Emma just cracked her knuckles, a wide, bloody grin splitting her face. "Let's get paid!" she bellowed.
The rest of the fight wasn't a battle, it was a piñata party, and the piñatas were conveniently filled with Coins. The remaining Mutated Horned Rabbits, their eyes now glowing with a frenzied, suicidal rage, were no match for the group's renewed vigor. With the promise of a five-times multiplier dancing in their heads, every swing of Michael's sword, every bone-shattering impact from Emma's fists, every crimson blast from Andy's eyes was delivered with a certain capitalistic glee. The white meadow became a whirlwind of grey fur, crimson splashes, and the satisfying, imaginary cha-ching of a cash register.
Riley continued to fire, the CRACK of her pistol a steady, calming rhythm in the chaos. But this time, something was different. With every rabbit she dropped, a strange, unfamiliar warmth spread through her chest, a feeling she hadn't experienced in years, if ever. It was pride. A deep, resonant pride that had nothing to do with meeting a deadline or successfully navigating office politics. This was real. This was earned.
Yes, she had done it. Somehow, in the high-speed chaos of the battle, her mind had found a pocket of impossible calm. She had seen what the others had missed. The Golden Rabbit's movements had looked like a frantic, random panic, a blur of unpredictable motion designed to confuse. But they weren't. Riley, with her freakishly sharp vision and a brain now hardwired for pattern recognition, had seen the truth. The rabbit wasn't just running, it was tracing a path, a complex, looping circuit across the battlefield, like a skater on an invisible rink. She had watched it, mapped its trajectory in her mind's eye, and then, with a gambler's certainty, she had walked to a point on the track she knew it would have to cross.
Her
And that was it. The beautiful, life-affirming result of that gamble was now sitting in her mental bank account: 2000 Coins. A fortune. After this dungeon was cleared, she had so much to do. Tents to build, defenses to erect, a whole new life to construct from the ground up.
The entire encounter had been a lightning strike of pure adrenaline, a jolt so potent it had rewired her very soul. She had said it, hadn't she? She had promised herself she wouldn't be dead weight, a rock dragging the others down. And she had kept that promise.
She knew, with a cold, clear certainty, that in a straight-up brawl, she was a featherweight in a ring of champions. She couldn't punch like Emma or wield a blade like Michael. But that didn't matter. In the right circumstances, with the right plan, she could hold her ground on the exact same level. She could change the entire battlefield with a single, perfectly timed thought.
The Riley who would have cowered and waited for rescue was a ghost, a shed skin left behind in the rubble of a dead world. She had no intention of ever playing the damsel in distress, of waiting for a shining knight to solve her problems. Her problems were her own, and so, goddammit, were her solutions.
And maybe… it was time to stop thinking of herself as a side character. Her entire life had felt like a story written in beige ink on grey paper, a narrative in which she was, at best, a supporting cast member. A footnote in someone else's quarterly report.
But not anymore. The plot of this new story was a terrifying, unwritten void, a book with a thousand blank pages. She had no idea where it would lead, what horrors or wonders lay in the chapters ahead. But for the first time, she was absolutely certain of one thing: she was the one holding the pen. She was the protagonist.
Yeah, she thought, the ghost of a real, confident smile touching her lips as she coolly reloaded her pistol with a fresh crimson core. She liked that idea a lot.
The last rabbit's frenzied shriek was cut short by a silver arc of Michael's blade, its body tumbling to the stark white ground in two distinct, twitching halves. And just like that, it was over. The sudden silence was a physical thing, a heavy blanket that smothered the echoes of battle.
Then, the voice, clean and grand as a cathedral bell, resonated in their minds.
[Congratulations, you have successfully conquered the dungeon:
[Teleporting players out of the dungeon...]
With that, pillars of brilliant white light erupted from the ground, enveloping them in a blinding, serene glare. There was no time for a witty retort from Emma, no moment for a sigh of relief from Andy. The light was absolute, pulling them apart molecule by molecule and flinging them back into reality.
The moment Riley opened her eyes, the sterile white was gone, replaced by the familiar, vibrant green of the endless meadow. The air was sweet and alive again, the sun warm on her skin. Emma stumbled beside her, shaking her head as if to clear out the lingering light. Michael landed on his feet as silently as a cat, his sword already sheathed. Andy just looked around, blinking in the sudden brightness.
In their shared, stunned silence, a low grinding sound drew their attention. The ugly mound of earth, the gaping maw that had served as the dungeon's entrance, began to collapse in on itself. It didn't explode or crumble, it just… sank, the dirt and rock flowing like sand in an hourglass, until the ground was flat once more, leaving not a single trace that it had ever been there.
Emma scratched her head, a confused frown on her face. "Huh. I thought for sure there'd be, like, a big boss. A giant, mega-rabbit with laser horns or something."
Andy nodded vigorously in agreement, his expression one of a gamer who had been denied the final, epic showdown.
"Maybe it depends on the dungeon," Riley mused, shrugging her shoulders. She scanned the now-peaceful landscape, an undeniable feeling of anticlimax settling in. "Is that it? I thought we'd get some kind of reward. Didn't the system say we would?"
As if her words were a magic password, the system's voice immediately chimed in, polite and efficient.
[Calculating rewards… Beginning distribution. Thank you for your patience.]
Before each of them, the air shimmered like heat haze, and a simple, unadorned wooden chest materialized from nothing, settling softly on the grass.
The others turned to look at her, their expressions a mixture of awe and suspicion. Emma pointed a finger at her. "Girlie, your ability to predict this stuff is getting seriously creepy."
Riley gave a delicate roll of her eyes and knelt, flipping the simple latch on her chest. The others followed suit, a shared, nervous excitement hanging in the air. Inside Riley's chest, nestled on a bed of what looked like spun morning mist, was a small, leather pouch tied with a simple string. The moment her fingers brushed against it, it dissolved into a shower of golden motes of light that flowed into her.
The system's voice was a private whisper in her ear.
[You have received 500 Coins.]
Well, that was good. More than good, it was exactly what she needed. She could have used a new weapon, or maybe a fancy piece of armor, but at this stage, cold, hard cash was the most practical reward she could have asked for.
And then, a cold wave of horror washed over her, so potent it made her forget all about her newfound wealth. Oh, god. The rabbits. She had forgotten to loot the rest of the rabbits.
In her moment of tactical brilliance, in the smug satisfaction of outsmarting the golden blur, she had completely, utterly forgotten her primary duty as the group's designated corpse-collector. She quickly pulled up the interface for her
Live and learn, she thought, a grimace twisting her lips. And next time, loot first, feel proud later.
The others, blissfully unaware of her internal crisis of capitalism, seemed more than happy with their own rewards. Emma was admiring a pair of sturdy-looking leather gauntlets, and Michael was inspecting a small, ornate whetstone that seemed to hum with a faint energy. Riley didn't ask. Maybe someday she'd feel the need to pry into her members' inventories, but today was not that day.
With the dungeon cleared and their pockets metaphorically heavier, they made their way back. The moment they crossed the invisible threshold into the Safe Zone, a collective sigh of relief seemed to pass between them. The tension in their shoulders eased, the constant, low-humming anxiety of being in the wild fading away into a profound sense of peace.
"Right, I am absolutely covered in rabbit guts," Emma announced, wrinkling her nose. "Andy, you coming? I'm going to the river to wash my face before I start to smell like a butcher's shop." The boy nodded eagerly, and the two of them trotted off towards the gentle sound of running water.
That left Riley and Michael. Of course, neither of them were the type to initiate small talk for the sake of it. A comfortable, professional silence settled between them. Michael walked over to the magical campfire, which still flickered merrily, and sat down cross-legged, closing his eyes to rest.
Riley found a spot a little ways off, sinking to the ground and leaning back against the solid, reassuring frame of the SUV. The world outside her head fell away as she focused inward, pulling up the cool, glowing interface of her
Now, with a fresh, heavy bag of Coins burning a hole in her virtual pocket, she could finally do something.
The first thing Riley did was check her Coin balance. The numbers glowed in her mind, solid and beautiful, a testament to a job well done. It was the most money she had ever had, virtual or otherwise. For a moment, she just basked in it, a dragon luxuriating on a fresh pile of gold. But the feeling of accomplishment was fleeting, quickly replaced by the cold, hard reality of their situation. The magical campfire was a nice touch, a cozy little beacon in the vast wilderness, but it was just that: a fire. They couldn't really sleep out in the open, could they? Not forever. They needed proper shelter.
Her gaze drifted to the build menu, the simple grid of four blueprints looking back at her. A tent. It cost 100 Coins each. She could build two of them, one for her and Emma, and one for Michael and Andy. It would be a start, a tangible step towards creating a real home here. Her eyes then flicked to the wooden fence blueprint. That was another necessity. A physical barrier, no matter how flimsy, would be another layer of security, another guarantee for their safety. It would give them a little more peace of mind, a space to breathe without constantly scanning the horizon.
Yes, that was the plan. Tents first, then a fence to enclose their little camp. It was a solid, practical, sensible plan.
And then, a different thought, sharp and intriguing, cut through the sensible one. Wait a minute. She had been so focused on spending her new fortune that she had almost forgotten. Before she started building anything, before she laid a single virtual foundation, maybe she should try something else first. Maybe she should invest in the land itself.
Her focus shifted on the
She selected it. A new window popped up, clean and brutally straightforward.
[Safe Zone Level: 0
Level Up Requirements:
- 100 Coins
- 1 Registered Member]
Riley's eyebrow shot up. That was it? A hundred Coins and one member? She had thousands of Coins and three members. She didn't just meet the conditions, she blew past them like a freight train. Without a second of hesitation, she pressed the button.
[Leveling up the Safe Zone will consume 100 Coins. Are you sure you wish to proceed?]
A small, confident smile touched her lips. She had never been more sure of anything in her life. Yes.
The ground beneath her feet hummed, a low, resonant vibration that seemed to emanate from the very core of her territory. A wave of golden light, soft and warm, pulsed outwards from where she sat, sweeping across the entire football field-sized area before fading away.
[Congratulations! Your Safe Zone has reached Level 1.]
[With your Safe Zone at Level 1, you have unlocked new buildable structures. You may now move any structure freely after it has been built. The
Good, Riley thought, a thrill shooting through her. More things to build was always good. She quickly flicked over to the build menu. The simple four-square grid had expanded, new icons filling the empty spaces, promising things far more interesting than just canvas tents and wooden boxes. And the ability to move things after building them? That was so fucking great. It meant she didn't have to stress about getting the layout perfect on the first try. She could experiment, rearrange, and redesign to her heart's content as their needs changed. A huge weight of future planning anxiety lifted from her shoulders.
But it was the last part of the notification that truly snagged her attention. Now, what was this
She focused on the new tab, and the system, as always, obliged with a detailed explanation. It was a utility skill of the highest order. It could automatically break down a designated target into its component parts. For example, if she took one of the dead horned rabbit corpses from her inventory and used this function on it, the system would automatically separate it into neat, perfectly sorted piles of meat, fur, skin, and bone, and even extract the monster core, all without her having to touch a single drop of blood. Or, if she found a rare medicinal plant,
This was awesome. This was so, so awesome. Riley felt a wave of profound relief. She was a city girl, born and bred. She knew no shit about butchering an animal. The thought of having to skin and gut one of those rabbits with a small dagger made her stomach turn. Please. She would have made an absolute mess of it. Now, she didn't have to. The system would handle the gross parts for her. This level-up was already a spectacular success.
But still… her curiosity, now thoroughly piqued, wouldn't let her rest. Level 1 was great, but what did it take to get to Level 2?
She navigated back to the level-up screen, her finger hovering over the button again. A new set of requirements appeared, and the breath hitched in her throat.
[Safe Zone Level: 1
Level Up Requirements:
- 1000 Coins
- 5 Registered Members]
From one hundred Coins to one thousand. A tenfold increase. From one member to five.
Riley took a long, sharp breath, the air suddenly feeling a little colder. She could already imagine the astronomical costs for the levels beyond that. Ten thousand? A hundred thousand? A million? The path to building a true fortress, a real sanctuary in this new world, was going to be a long, and very, very expensive one.
A weary sigh, a small puff of vapor in the cool air, escaped Riley's lips. The grand, sprawling dream of a multi-leveled, impenetrable fortress would have to wait. First things first. "Okay," she murmured to herself, the sound a quiet note of resignation. "Let's just go with a place to sleep first."
Her eyes scanned the small, cleared area of her domain. The magical campfire still crackled merrily, a cheerful, hypnotic heart to their fledgling camp. She chose a spot a reasonable distance from the flames, close enough to feel the warmth but not so close they'd risk setting the whole thing alight. With a flicker of thought, she mentally selected the blueprint for the Small Canvas Tent, designated two spots side-by-side, and confirmed the build, the 200 Coin price tag a painful but necessary sting. Well, she thought with a mental shrug, I can always move them later if I don't like the placement.
A cascade of golden data, like two rectangular waterfalls of pure light, poured from the empty air and solidified on the grass. In less than three seconds, two tents stood before her, perfectly parallel.
Riley stared. Then she blinked. Then her eyes went wide, a profound, disbelieving shock washing over her.
From his cross-legged position by the fire, Michael's eyes snapped open. The stoic mask he wore so well cracked, his jaw going visibly slack as he stared at the two structures that had just materialized from nothing.
Because they were not, by any stretch of a sane person's imagination, 'small canvas tents'. The name was a lie, a piece of cosmic false advertising of the highest order. Each one was a large, magnificent structure, less like a simple A-frame and more like a miniature, elegant yurt. The fabric was a pristine, heavy white canvas, stitched with intricate, flowing patterns in a soft silver thread that shimmered in the daylight. At the peak of each conical roof, a small, whimsical wooden pinwheel was mounted, its blades catching the breeze and spinning with a silent, cheerful rhythm.
Michael rose to his feet in a single, fluid motion and walked over, his boots silent on the grass. He stopped beside Riley, his gaze fixed on the impossible structures. "This is impressive," he said, his voice a low rumble of genuine astonishment.
Riley could only nod, her throat too tight to form words. Yeah, fucking impressive, she thought, the sheer, unexpected splendor of it all far exceeding any expectation she could have possibly dreamed up. This wasn't a survival shelter. This was a luxury camping experience from a fantasy world.
Without another word, driven by a desperate need to see if the inside was just as ludicrous, she strode forward and pulled back the heavy canvas flap of the nearest tent.
The sight that greeted her made her previous shock feel like a mild surprise. If the outside was a 'wow,' the inside was a full-throated, mind-bending 'the fuck?'
It was a pocket of impossible coziness, a warm, inviting space that had no right to exist just one day after the world had ended. To one side, a wide flap in the canvas could be rolled up and secured with leather toggles, creating a large window that flooded the interior with natural light. There was no cot or bedframe. Instead, the floor was covered by a plush, thick mattress made of some impossibly soft, white fur, piled high with a half-dozen pillows that looked like they were stuffed with clouds. In a corner sat a low, rustic table, sanded smooth and accompanied by two sturdy wooden stools, all of which featured subtle, elegant carvings. A small, full-length mirror stood against one wall, and a cheerful potted plant with bright blue flowers sat on the table.
And then she saw them.
Tucked away near the fur mattress were a lamp and a fan. They were, unmistakably, modern appliances. The lamp had a simple, elegant design that matched the rustic decor, but its bulb was clearly electric. The fan was a small, oscillating unit, its blades and cage a tasteful matte bronze. Except… there were no wires. There were no power outlets, no extension cords, no hint of a generator humming somewhere outside.
Michael had followed her in, his large frame filling the entrance. He saw them at the same moment she did, his eyes narrowing in confusion. Riley moved forward, her heart thudding with a new, intense curiosity. She knelt beside the fan, her fingers tracing its smooth, cool surface. On the base, near the control buttons, were two small, suspicious-looking knobs. She gripped one between her thumb and forefinger and gave it a gentle twist.
With a soft click, a small, rectangular compartment slid out from the base.
Riley's eyes narrowed. She didn't hesitate. Reaching into the pocket of her cargo pants, she retrieved one of the crimson-cored monster crystals she'd picked up from the dungeon. It was a perfect fit. She slotted the core into the compartment, pushed it shut until it clicked back into place, and then, holding her breath, she pressed the 'On' button.
The fan blades began to whir, a gentle, near-silent hum filling the tent as a cool breeze washed over her face. It worked. It actually, impossibly, worked. She scrambled over to the lamp, found the same mechanism, slotted in another core, and flicked the switch. A soft, warm glow filled the tent, chasing away the shadows.
Riley spun around to face Michael, a look of wild, incredulous discovery on her face. "This is clearly modern tech disguised as fantasy!" she exclaimed, her voice a little too loud in the enclosed space.
A sound she had never heard before escaped Michael's lips: a short, sharp chuckle. It was a genuine sound of amusement, and it made a hot flush of embarrassment creep up Riley's neck. She had let her excitement get the better of her, reacting like a kid with a new toy.
She quickly composed herself, clearing her throat and forcing a more serious expression onto her face. "Right," she said, her voice now a cooler, more analytical tone. "I need to test something."
With that, she turned and darted back out of the tent, her mind already buzzing with a thousand new possibilities.
Outside, she chose a spot a little ways off, not so far that it was inconvenient, but far enough for a modicum of privacy. Her mind buzzed with the new blueprint she'd seen, a simple, unassuming icon labeled 'Wooden Outhouse'. The name was rustic, almost primitive, and a far cry from the luxury yurts she had just conjured. With a mental shrug and a quiet farewell to another 100 Coins, she confirmed the build.
A shower of golden data motes, far less grand than the ones for the tents, rained down and solidified. And there it stood. Well, it wasn't really a room, not in any traditional sense. It was just four plain, windowless wooden walls joined together at the corners, forming a simple square. It didn't even have a roof. It looked less like a building and more like a large, hastily assembled shipping crate someone had forgotten to close.
But inside was a different story.
After stepping through a heavy canvas flap that acted as a makeshift door, Riley found the interior was as simple as the exterior suggested. A single, bare-bulbed lamp was affixed to one wall. Against the other walls stood three objects, all fashioned from the same pale, smooth wood: a large, deep wooden tub, a washbasin with a simple metal spigot, and a… a wooden toilet.
But there was a shared, beautiful detail that made Riley's heart skip a beat. Each one of them, from the lamp to the toilet, had a small, discreet, and very familiar-looking slot built into its base. A place to put a monster core.
With the methodical focus of a scientist, Riley began her experiment. She slid a crimson core into the lamp's base, and with a flick of a small switch, the bulb flooded the small space with a clean, bright light. She moved to the washbasin, slotted in another core, and turned the spigot. A stream of clear, cool water flowed from the faucet, splashing gently into the basin. Then came the large wooden tub, which was clearly meant to be a bathtub. She fed it a core, pressed a small, almost invisible button on its rim, and with a soft gurgle, the tub began to fill itself with pristine, clean water.
And then there was the toilet. Oh, this one was the most important.
It looked like a simple wooden box with a lid, a medieval commode. But upon closer inspection, it was a masterpiece of deceptive engineering. It wasn't just a box. It was a fully realized, modern-style toilet, complete with a flush button on the top of the "tank". And, oh god, attached to the side, sleek and unassuming, was a hand bidet!
Riley pressed the flush button.
With a powerful whoosh, the toilet flushed, a vortex of water swirling in the bowl before draining away with a satisfying gurgle. It worked. It actually worked.
Riley just stood there, her mind reeling from the sheer, beautiful absurdity of it all. "I don't even want to think about where the waste goes," she whispered to the empty, roofless room, a profound sense of both wonder and revulsion in her voice.
Which earned her another chuckle from Michael, who had stepped in silently behind her.
"Well, what can I say," he said, the amusement clear in his voice as he took in the scene. "I'm not going to complain about those things being too modern."
Riley shook her head, then found herself nodding in agreement. Yeah, she wouldn't complain either. As much as a part of her wanted to throw her head back and scream at the open sky, "This is clearly modern technology!", she couldn't bring herself to care. Not really. As long as it benefited her, what could she do?
A toilet. In a fantasy world. With a bidet.
Hell yes.
She turned to look at Michael, the practical, logistical reality of their new luxury crashing down on her. A serious, determined expression settled on her face.
"We're going to need a lot of monster cores."