Upon reaching the cafeteria, the survivors' excitement was swiftly tempered.
Night had fallen, cloaking the campus in an ominous darkness that carried unknown threats.
The leaders urged everyone to lower their excitement, their voices firm but tinged with caution.
As the group filed inside, they ate a modest meal of scavenged rations, their conversations hushed. Most collapsed into makeshift beds, exhaustion overtaking them. But for Jon, sleep was elusive. Lying on his thin mattress, he stared at the cracked ceiling, his mind churning with the weight of the past weeks.
The message from his parents haunted him, their cryptic words looping in his thoughts.
They'd sent him money just before the fall, a sum that almost remained untouched when the world collapsed.
'They abandoned me,' he concluded, the thought bitter but unshakable. The stadium, where the chaos began, was another enigma. He didn't fully grasp the cause of the fall, some cosmic rift, perhaps, or a system unleashed upon humanity, but he felt a fragment of understanding, like a puzzle piece just out of reach.
Then there was Alex's death, a wound that cut deeper than he'd admitted. Though Jon had killed Joe, he had still been a friend, meaning they shared moments that became tainted by betrayal and blood. The weight of that choice gnawed at him, testing the limits of his Composure skill.
Even Tunde's death, a fresh loss, added to the burden.
Jon's gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, his silence a shield against the emotions threatening to spill over. Speaking felt dangerous, as if words might unravel his control.
In desperation, he retreated to his Mind World where he could process his turmoil. Perhaps it was the intensity of his emotions or his refusal to cast blame, but that night, something shifted within him.
A new skill unlocked, its presence a quiet spark in the darkness, though he wouldn't discover its details until morning.
The next morning, the cafeteria buzzed with renewed energy. Smiles adorned most faces, fueled by the prospect of escape, but Jon's expression remained distant, his eyes shadowed.
A meeting was convened to organize the final preparations, dividing the fighters into two groups: one to finish clearing the path to the gate, the other to ready the buses. Volunteers could choose their task, and the room thrummed with eager voices.
Laura, her mind sharp with innovation, proposed a bold idea. "Why don't we use the hard parts from the monsters to cover the buses? Like makeshift armor to protect against zombies or stray monsters." Her suggestion was met with enthusiastic nods, the practicality of it undeniable.
Each bus would head to a different destination, with supplies allocated based on the number of passengers per region. The discussion focused on the tasks for those staying behind to check the fuel levels, engines, and mechanical details to ensure the buses were roadworthy.
Jenny and Cynthia, tasked with leading the gate-clearing group, nodded in agreement. All eyes turned to Jon, expecting him to join them, but his response stunned the room. "I'm staying back," he said, his voice flat, his face an unreadable mask.
"Huh…"
"Y-You…"
"Eh…"
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd, Jenny and Cynthia exchanging worried glances. Jon's indifference was jarring, a stark contrast to the leader they'd come to rely on.
"What happened to you?" Jenny asked, her voice soft but insistent, searching his face for answers. She'd noticed a change in him, a distance that hadn't been there before.
'Was it that bad?' Cynthia thought, piecing together the recent losses, Tunde, Joe, and Alex. But she sensed something deeper, a fracture she couldn't fully grasp.
Jon met Jenny's gaze, his expression unchanged. "What are you talking about?" he asked, his tone devoid of warmth.
"I'll stay…" the Beast Lord rumbled, stepping forward, his towering frame a silent pledge of loyalty.
"M-Me too," Ronald stammered, his round face resolute despite his nerves. Their decisions caught Jon off guard, though his face betrayed no surprise.
"N-Nothing…" Jenny sighed, shaking her head. The tension was palpable, the other leaders holding their breath, wary of crossing an invisible line. It felt as if a single misstep could unleash something dangerous, though none could pinpoint what.
The meeting adjourned, and the groups dispersed to their tasks.
Jenny and Cynthia led the fighters to the gate path, their weapons gleaming with purpose. Jon remained behind, overseeing the bus preparations.
The first task was harvesting monster scales for armor, a grueling but necessary job. With a borrowed dagger from the Beast Lord and his experience as a soldier, Jon sliced through the tough shells with practiced precision, his movements fluid and efficient.
Reaching the fleshy interior of a carcass, Jon paused, struck by the meat's surprisingly fresh appearance.
Days had passed since the creature's death, yet it looked edible, its aroma oddly enticing. 'Can we eat this?' he wondered, tempted but cautious. He couldn't risk poisoning himself or others. As he prepared to discard it, Ronald approached, his eyes glinting with curiosity.
"J-Jon, why were you about to throw it away?" he asked, eyeing the meat eagerly.
"It's edible," the Beast Lord added, his deep voice confident.
Jon raised an eyebrow, activating his Moon Gaze to scan the meat for clues. "How do you know?" he asked, skeptical.
"Smell," the Beast Lord said.
"Looks," Ronald replied simultaneously, their answers oddly complementary.
Jon considered their words. The Beast Lord's animalistic instincts likely gave him a keen sense for such things, and Ronald's skill was possibly tied to consumption and might enhance his judgment. The likelihood of their accuracy was high.
"Alright, we'll test it later," Jon decided, setting the meat aside.
For now, he focused on the task at hand, slicing through five more carcasses with meticulous care.
As he worked, a notification flickered in his vision:
[YOU HAVE OBTAINED SKILL: "CUTTING"]
[CUTTING (UNRANKED REALM): IMPROVES PRECISION WHEN USING A SHARP OBJECT. EFFECT: INCREASES CUT/SLASH DAMAGE BY 5%.]
Jon's eyes widened, his thoughts racing.
'A new skill?' The discovery was monumental, hinting at a deeper mechanism of the system. Before he could process it fully, another notification appeared:
[YOU HAVE FULFILLED THE REQUIREMENTS TO EVOLVE "INSTANT CALCULATION" (FIRST REALM) LEVEL 5 ➔ "BRILLIANT MIND" (SECOND REALM) LEVEL 1]
[BRILLIANT MIND (SECOND REALM) LEVEL 1: ENHANCES CALCULATION SPEED BY 25%. PASSIVE SKILL (FOUNDER): DURING INTENSELY FOCUSED TIMES, THERE'S A 10% CHANCE OF FORMING A NEW SKILL.
Jon stared at the notifications, his mind whirling. 'So that's why it required a new skill.'
The ability to create skills organically was a game-changer, reducing his reliance on rare orbs. He glanced at the others, wondering if they could replicate the process.
"If you have a dagger or anything sharp, take it out," he called to the group. They looked puzzled, but the Beast Lord and Ronald promptly drew their blades, prompting others to follow with kitchen knives and orb-granted tools.
Jon demonstrated the technique on how to grip the blade, where to slice, and how to handle the shells. Some questioned his sudden instruction, but they complied, mimicking his movements. After several failed attempts, a young woman gasped on her seventh try. "I got it! It says 'Skill: Cutting'!" Her face lit up, sparking excitement among the others.
Jon hadn't revealed the potential for a skill, wanting to test the system's mechanics.
The success confirmed his theory: others could learn skills through focused effort. The group's enthusiasm surged, and they attacked the carcasses with renewed vigor, hoping for their own notifications. When the shelled beasts yielded no skill, they moved to other monster types, their determination unwavering.
Seeing their determination, Jon shifted his attention to fitting the buses with the harvested scales, a crude but effective process. Strangely, the shells adhered to the bus frames without adhesives, as if the system itself facilitated the bond.
By noon, some buses had been likened to armored beasts, their patchwork exteriors ugly, but it mattered because it saved lives.
Seeing the progress, the group's efficiency skyrocketed, with many acquiring the Cutting skill, it then accelerated the armoring process of the vehicles.
Inside the buses, volunteers dismantled seats to create storage for food and provisions, while others conducted thorough mechanical checks to prevent breakdowns. The work was methodical, driven by the shared goal of escape.
...
Meanwhile, on the path to the gate, Jenny and Cynthia battled a new threat. Creatures erupted from the ground, their forms twisted and grotesque, clawing through the earth with unnatural strength.