The System didn't rush him.
That was the second thing Rook noticed.
After the claim, the valley didn't erupt into chaos or spawn threats to "test" his ownership. The air remained calm. The trees didn't shift. The stream kept flowing, indifferent to the fact that it now ran through controlled territory.
The System waited.
Rook opened the Construction tab.
A list unfolded—short, unimpressive, brutally honest.
— Crude Wooden Cabin
— Watchtower (Basic)
— Campfire
— Storage Rack
No stone keeps.No steel walls.No miracles.
Yet.
Rook selected the cabin.
A translucent blueprint snapped into place at the center of the clearing, lines drawn cleanly over dirt and grass. Measurements appeared automatically. Required materials listed themselves with cold precision.
Wood. Stone. Time.
He got to work.
There was no dramatic montage.
He chopped fallen branches first, then standing trees once he confirmed the System's rules about sustainability. Each swing of the axe drained stamina but restored something else—focus. Familiarity. Control.
When he placed the first log into position, the System chimed softly.
[Construction Progress: 3%]
[EXP Gained.]
Rook paused.
He checked his status.
His EXP bar had moved.
Barely—but unmistakably.
He kept building.
Logs stacked into walls. Stones reinforced the base. The roof went up crooked, then corrected itself slightly as the System validated structural integrity.
Every action counted.
[EXP Gained.]
[EXP Gained.]
Minutes passed.
Then an hour.
When the cabin finalized, the blueprint faded, replaced by a structure that was… serviceable. Rough walls. A low ceiling. A door that creaked when opened.
Shelter.
The System pulsed again.
[Crude Wooden Cabin Completed.]
[EXP Gained.]
[Level Up!]
Rook froze.
He opened his status window slowly, as if the numbers might vanish if he startled them.
Level 4.
He hadn't fought anything.
No blood.No risk.No chaos.
Just work.
He looked toward the tree line, imagining the city—people charging monsters, screaming, dying for fractions of progress.
Then he opened the Construction tab again.
"Watchtower," he said quietly.
The blueprint appeared near the perimeter, angled toward the valley's widest approach.
More wood. More stone.
More time.
He built until his arms ached and his stamina dipped dangerously low, pausing only long enough to drink from the stream and eat scavenged rations. The tower rose slowly, each level granting a clearer view of the land beyond his borders.
When it completed, the System didn't celebrate.
It rewarded.
[Basic Watchtower Completed.]
[Vision Range Increased.]
[EXP Gained.]
[Level Up!]
Rook let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
Level 5.
He sat on the steps of his cabin, dirt-streaked and exhausted, staring at the numbers hovering in front of him.
He'd gained more levels building a shoddy cabin and a wooden tower than most people would gain throwing themselves at monsters all day.
And he hadn't risked his life once.
The realization settled heavily in his chest.
This wasn't slower.
This wasn't safer.
This was better.
Rook leaned back against the cabin wall and looked up at the watchtower silhouetted against the darkening sky.
"Let them fight," he murmured.
The valley remained quiet.
And for the first time since the world ended, Rook felt ahead of it.