Ethan ventured deeper into the forest along the winding path. Every muscle was coiled with tension, his eyes darting between the ashen trunks, scouting for the dangers the system had warned of.
Fortunately, the silence remained unbroken.
At the end of the path, deep within the heart of this spectral White Forest, clusters of fruit trees appeared. They bore peculiar, spherical white fruits that stood out against the grey bark.
So, this is the harvest of a Collection Station?
Ethan approached a tree, used his dagger to slice through a tough, fibrous stem, and caught a fruit. He brought it to his nose. A fragrance—intoxicatingly sweet yet underscored by a sharp, musky bitterness—wafted over him. It was a scent unlike any fruit from his old world.
Gulp.
Looking at the fruit in his palm, Ethan felt a sudden, primal salivation.
"It smells... incredible."
A sudden, irrational hunger clawed at him. He felt an overwhelming urge to sink his teeth into the pale flesh.
Just as his jaw opened, a cold spike of alarm shot through his brain. His survival instinct screamed, and he violently hurled the fruit away.
"!!"
"Haa... haa... What the hell was that?"
[Stamina: 93][Spirit: 72]
Ethan broke into a cold sweat. His Spirit had been at maximum just moments ago; in the few seconds he had held that fruit, it had plummeted. He wasn't even short on food or water—there was no logical reason to be that desperate to eat an unknown, potentially poisonous forest growth.
The rate of Spirit decay was terrifying. Even high-intensity Sublimation didn't drain his mind this quickly.
There's something wrong with these fruits.
He backed away, narrowing his eyes at the ashen-white clusters. The fact that he had to return to the train to use the Appraisal function was proving to be a dangerous logistical hurdle. But these were clearly the prize of the station; in fact, Ethan realized the "danger" of this station likely was the fruit itself.
"Did that scent trigger a hallucination? If I don't breathe it in..."
He hesitated, but he couldn't leave empty-handed. He needed to get them back to the Train System to identify them properly before making a final call.
Rip—
He sliced a strip of cloth from his shirt with his dagger and tied it firmly over his nose and mouth. It was a crude filter, but better than nothing.
He opened his backpack. Aside from his meager rations, there was plenty of room. "Man dies for wealth, birds die for food"—even facing mind-altering fruit, Ethan wasn't about to abandon a potential goldmine.
The forest remained deathly still, save for the new, industrious "farmer" stripping the trees of their white bounty.
Once his pack was heavy, Ethan wiped the sweat from his brow.
"Thank god for this dagger. These stems are like iron."
He hauled the load back to the train and immediately slammed a fruit onto the console for appraisal.
[White Forest Fruit] (Level 3) [Description: A fruit unique to the White Forest. Raw, it emits a hallucinogenic aroma that drains Spirit. Consuming it raw causes a permanent reduction in maximum Spirit.] [Processed: Restores Spirit rapidly and provides a minor permanent resistance to illusions.] [Processing Method: Soak in cold water for five minutes.]
"I knew it. No wonder I wanted to eat it so badly. It really was the smell."
Ethan leaned against the wall, his chest heaving as he exhaled a breath of relief. He felt like he had just walked off a ledge and stepped back just in time. It was a sobering reminder: he thought he was being cautious, but "caution" in this world had a much higher floor.
He didn't waste a second. He dumped the entire haul into his water reservoir. After five minutes, he watched as the fruit transitioned from a dull ash-grey to a brilliant, translucent pearl-white. He picked one up and bit down.
A burst of exquisitely sweet juice exploded in his mouth.
"Unbelievable! I've never tasted anything this good!"
His eyes lit up. Compared to this, the dry bread and compressed biscuits were like chewing on cardboard. It was hard to reconcile such heavenly flavor with such a grim, ghostly environment.
He dumped his non-essentials out, grabbed his guns and dagger, and headed back out. A round trip took twenty minutes, and filling the pack took another ten. With four hours of docking time, he only had enough for a few more trips. He couldn't afford to dally.
As he stepped off the train, he noticed his External Waste Collector was finally active.
"So that's how it works."
A small, cuboid robot, no higher than his mid-calf, was scuttling between the white trees and the train, occasionally bringing back a handful of dry leaves or a strange stone to toss into the bin.
"Seems a bit useless, honestly," Ethan sighed. But it was already built; he let it be.
In the orchard, Ethan's dagger moved in a rhythmic blur. Bag after bag was filled. Finally, the docking timer began its final descent.
[0:32:16]
"A shame. Who knows if I'll ever find fruit this good again."
In three and a half hours, he had harvested over fifty kilograms of White Forest Fruit. If they didn't rot, he'd be set for a long time. He decided to stay on board for the final stretch; greed wasn't worth missing the train's departure.
He sat in his new chair, eating a fruit as he opened the chat room. By now, most people should have finished their second stations.
The moment the screen flickered on, his eyes locked onto the population count.
[8,721 / 10,000]
Over a thousand people were gone. And this was only the second station.
Even worse, the number was still ticking down.
["Does anyone have medicine? I just took one sip of lake water—why does my stomach feel like it's being ripped out?!"]
["Serves you right. Drinking unboiled water? Do you think you're a superhero?"]
["Damn... those wild buffalo gored me through the lung. Brothers, I don't think I'm making it. If anyone sees my wife, tell her her husband went down fighting a bull."]
["Rest in peace, man. I'll take care of your wife for you."]
["Waaa... it hurts so much... Does anyone have medicine? I remember someone found 'Golden Sore Ointment' earlier. Please, I'm begging you, save me!"]
["So hungry. The starter bread and water aren't even enough for a snack."]
In the modern world, even a severe injury could be managed with proper medical care. But here, the environment was the enemy. Even those who found the courage to explore were met with sudden, lethal crises. A minor wound, left untreated, was a slow death sentence.
The pressure of survival—the raw, gnawing lack of food and water—was beginning to crush the survivors' spirits.