**If you read Chapter 6 prior to this chapters release, make sure to re-read it due to plot changes**
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The creature that burst through the underbrush turned out to be something between a bear and a boulder, with moss for fur and tree bark for claws. Under normal circumstances, Max would have been fascinated by its unique mineral composition. Current circumstances, however, required more immediate action.
He dove behind a tree, mind racing through his new inventory. Three hours of wandering the forest had filled his endless bag with... well, everything he'd seen. Now was the time to use it.
```
Current Inventory Contents (Partial):
- Various Rocks (487)
- Suspicious Mushrooms (73)
- Unknown Plant Matter (216)
- Misc. Forest Debris (∞)
- Premium Dirt Samples (22 varieties)
```
The moss-bear-boulder thing roared, its breath smelling like wet stone and old leaves. Max grabbed the first thing from his inventory that came to mind—a handful of those glowing mushrooms he'd collected earlier.
"Please be poisonous, please be poisonous, please be poisonous," he muttered, then threw them directly into the creature's open mouth.
The monster paused mid-roar, making a sound like grinding gravel. Its moss-fur began to glow with the same eerie light as the mushrooms. Then, with a confused whimper that shook several leaves from the trees, it turned and stumbled away, leaving a trail of softly glowing moss behind it.
Max made a mental note: Glowing mushrooms = effective monster repellent.
```
New Knowledge Acquired:
- Local fauna can be affected by regional flora
- Glowing things are usually useful
- Still alive
```
Over the next few days, Max developed a system. Every morning, he would empty out specific sections of his endless bag, sorting through what he'd absent-mindedly collected the day before. Most of it was useless—he really needed to stop grabbing every single leaf that looked "historically significant"—but some items proved surprisingly valuable.
The sticky sap he'd picked up because it "might be magical" turned out to be excellent for waterproofing the small shelter he'd built. The strange fibrous plants he'd collected for their "unique texture properties" made decent rope when twisted together. Even his habit of grabbing random rocks paid off when he discovered some of them were flint.
His shelter, while not exactly comfortable, reflected his peculiar approach to survival. The walls were packed with his premium dirt collection (now expanded to include thirty-seven varieties, each with supposedly distinct properties). The roof was thatched with carefully selected leaves arranged by what he still insisted was "mystical resonance" but was actually just good drainage. His bed was lined with the softest mosses he could find, categorized by squishiness.
One morning, about a week into his isolation, Max sat cross-legged in his shelter, performing his daily inventory review. He'd learned to keep certain items readily accessible:
- Glowing mushrooms for defense
- Flint and dry tinder for fire
- His most promising "magical" stones (still waiting for them to do something magical)
- Emergency dirt samples (you never know)
The rest could stay in the endless bag until needed. It was during this review that he made an interesting discovery. Items in his inventory didn't spoil. The berries he'd collected on day one were just as fresh as when he'd picked them. The leaves didn't wilt, the mushrooms didn't decay, and even the suspicious meat from something he'd rather not remember encountering stayed... well, edible was a strong word, but it didn't get any worse.
"Infinite storage AND preservation," he mused, popping a week-old berry into his mouth. "Now if I could just figure out how to organize everything better. Maybe by potential usefulness? Or by theoretical magical properties? Or by—"
A distant explosion interrupted his cataloging, followed by the sound of breaking trees and what might have been cursing in a language that made his ears itch. Something was happening deeper in the forest, something that definitely wasn't natural.
Max looked at his shelter, at his carefully organized collections, at all the systems he'd put in place to survive alone. Then he looked in the direction of the explosion.
"I should probably investigate that," he said to himself, already grabbing handfuls of his most promising rocks. "For specimen collection purposes, obviously."
He set out through the forest, his endless bag considerably fuller than when he'd arrived but somehow feeling lighter. He had resources now. He had experience. He had an entire inventory of potentially useful items, even if he wasn't quite sure what most of them did.
What he didn't have was any idea that he was walking toward a meeting that would change everything—a chance encounter with someone who would find his peculiar habits either charming or completely insane.
But that was fine. He had plenty of premium dirt samples to make a good first impression.
He just hoped whoever it was appreciated properly categorized rocks.