Leon bent down, collecting a few fallen branches and stacking them in his arms.
[Collected: Branches (x5)]
[Resource Quality: Low - Suitable for kindling or basic construction.]
The notification appeared in his vision, hovering slightly to the side like a transparent screen. Leon paused, staring at it for a moment.
"Alright… this is going to take some getting used to," he muttered.
[System Feature Unlocked: Resource Management Interface. Accessible with 'Inspect' command or direct interaction with resource logs.]
Curious, Leon said, "Inspect."
A holographic overlay appeared in his vision, displaying a list of gathered resources.
The branches he'd picked up were categorized neatly, complete with details about their potential uses.
Resource Log:
Branches (x5): Low-quality wood suitable for small fires or temporary shelter supports.
Available Actions: Store, Discard, Process.
"This is something else," Leon said, a faint grin tugging at his lips. For once, his life felt like a strategy game he had a chance to win.
[Suggestion: Establish a Temporary Base.]
[Objective: Locate a safe clearing, construct a fire pit, and scout nearby resources.]
[Reward: Basic Blueprint: Lean-To Shelter.]
"Blueprints?" Leon asked. "You mean I don't have to figure this out on my own?"
[Explanation: Blueprints simplify complex tasks by providing step-by-step guidance for constructing structures, crafting items, or developing technology. Basic Blueprints are automatically unlocked as you progress. Custom designs require Leadership Level 2 or higher.]
"Well, that's helpful," Leon admitted. The idea of having guidance, even minimal, gave him confidence.
Leon pushed wandered deeper into the forest, his eyes scanning for a suitable clearing. A small break in the tree canopy ahead caught his attention. The patch of sunlight spilled onto a flat area surrounded by sturdy trees—a natural boundary for a potential camp.
"Looks perfect," he muttered, heading toward it.
[Location marked: Clearing Alpha. Suitable for temporary or long-term settlement development.]
Clearing Options:
Temporary Shelter: Fast to build but minimal protection.
Storage Pit: Secure area for resources.
Campfire: Essential for cooking and warmth.
"Let's start with the basics," Leon said, selecting the campfire.
[Resources Required: Branches (x5), Stones (x3)]
[Current Inventory: Branches (x5), Stones (x0)]
[Task Reminder: Gather Stones (x3).]
Shaking his head, Leon set the branches down in a pile and began searching for stones near the forest edge. His military training kicked in as he moved quietly, scanning the ground and his surroundings with practiced efficiency.
System Features Unlocking
By the time he had a handful of decent-sized stones, another prompt appeared.
[Feature Unlock: Tribe Management.]
[Details: Manage population growth, assign roles, monitor loyalty levels, and control resource distribution through the Tribe Management Panel. Available only upon recruiting members.]
"Recruiting people, huh?" Leon muttered.
[Campfire construction complete! Stamina recovery increased.]
[Next objective: Scout for potential recruits. Priority: Identify abandoned villages, wandering individuals, or local refugees.]
[Side Quest Unlocked: First Recruit.]
Objective: Persuade one individual to join your cause.
Reward: Small Supply Cache + Leadership Skill: Inspire (Level 1).
As Leon returned to the clearing and set up the campfire, the glow of the flames brought a strange sense of comfort. He sat back on the ground, staring at the fire.
"Alright, system," he said softly. "Let's see what's out there. Show me my map."
A grid-based map appeared in his vision, with the surrounding area marked as unexplored. Beyond the forest was an icon marked "?"—a possible point of interest.
"There's no time to waste," he said. Rising to his feet, Leon grabbed his M4. He might not have had recruits yet, but he wasn't walking into the unknown unarmed.
As Leon pushed deeper into the forest, he stayed alert, his M4 in hand. His gaze flicked between his surroundings and the map overlay projected in his vision.
Then, in the distance, he heard the unmistakable sound of creaking wheels and low murmurs. Dropping low, Leon moved quietly toward the noise, using the undergrowth for cover.
Through the dense trees, he spotted them: a caravan of carriages moving along a dirt trail. Something felt off. The men surrounding the carriages were armed, their faces marked with cruel indifference. The lead carriage was covered with a heavy cloth, but its uneven edges occasionally revealed what lay within—bars.
Leon's breath hitched when a gust of wind pulled back a section of the cloth, exposing the cage beneath. Inside, huddled figures—men, women, and children—cowered in fear, their faces pale and resigned.
Slavers, Leon realized. His jaw clenched, a surge of anger rising within him. His military training kicked in, cataloging their positions, equipment, and demeanor. This wasn't just an unfortunate scene to avoid; it was an atrocity he couldn't ignore.
For a moment, he tightened his grip on the M4, staring at the scene. Then he made his decision.
"No hesitation," Leon muttered under his breath. He wasn't going to stand by while innocent lives were sold like commodities.
Dropping back into the foliage, he positioned himself for an ambush. His suppressor ensured stealth. He surveyed the group: five armed guards patrolling on foot, plus two more in the lead carriage.
Leon exhaled slowly. Aim. Fire.
The first guard dropped without a sound, a clean headshot piercing the silence of the forest. The second barely had time to react before Leon's bullets found their mark. The others scattered, shouting in alarm, but their formation dissolved into panic as Leon continued his methodical assault.
One by one, they fell.
The last man standing was the leader, seated at the reins of the lead carriage. He scrambled to grab a hostage from the cage for leverage, but Leon was faster. A precise shot to the shoulder disarmed him, sending him crumpling to the ground.
Leon approached cautiously, his weapon trained on the whimpering man.
"Please! Don't—don't kill me!" the leader pleaded, clutching his bleeding arm.
Leon's gaze was cold. "You lost the right to beg when you put those people in cages."
Without a second thought, he delivered the final shot.
[Combat Outcome: All enemies neutralized.]
[Objective Updated: Free captured individuals and secure caravan resources.]
Leon lowered his weapon, stepping over the bodies scattered around the dirt road. The metallic tang of blood was heavy in the air, mixing with the dry smell of dust. He glanced at the cages ahead. The people inside shifted back instinctively, their wide eyes fixed on him.
"Stay calm," he said evenly, keeping his tone steady. "I'm not going to hurt you."
The captives didn't respond, their fear too ingrained. Most looked away, some holding onto each other. Leon frowned, his military training kicking in as he scanned the scene. Five cages. Nine prisoners. Most of them were malnourished and covered in grime. They wouldn't last long under these conditions.
He approached one of the cages, his boots crunching softly over the dirt. When he got closer, something caught his eye—a girl. She was sitting in the corner, her hands wrapped around her knees. Her hair was a dull silver that caught a bit of the sunlight, and her sharp blue eyes locked onto him for a moment. Then, just as quickly, she turned her head to the side.
Leon crouched down by the bars. "You're safe now," he said. "I took care of them."
She didn't move or respond, her face a mask of stubbornness. He sighed, not in the mood for this kind of resistance. "What's your name?"
The women stayed silent for a long moment before muttering, "Elys."
"Elys," he repeated, trying to sound reassuring but firm. "The door's open. You can either sit there or get up and stick with the rest of us."
She shot him a glare that said 'Don't tell me what to do', but after a few tense moments, she stood up and shuffled toward the open cage door.
The Women—Elys—didn't look at him again as she stepped cautiously out of the cage, but he caught the tension in her movements. Like most of them, she probably had no idea if she could trust him. Leon didn't take it personally; he'd been in too many high-pressure situations to expect gratitude right away.
The others started filing out as well—slowly, nervously. They were in bad shape—most wore tattered clothes, their faces were gaunt, and they avoided eye contact. Some clutched at each other for support, limping or stumbling out into the open air.
Leon adjusted his grip on his rifle and raised his voice just enough to command attention. "Alright, listen up! I'm not going to sugarcoat things. If you stick with me, I'll do what I can to keep you safe. I know this place isn't kind. But if you wander off, I can't guarantee you'll last long out there."
His gaze swept over the group. A few heads nodded slightly, while others looked away, unsure of what to do. "Take a minute, get yourselves together," he added. "We'll move soon."
Turning back to the wagons, he began sorting through the scattered supplies. Bags of grain, crates filled with tools and basic provisions—more than enough to help him establish a starting point for survival. He mentally cataloged what was useful, pulling out things they'd need immediately, like food and spare clothes.
Elys remained near the cage, watching him cautiously. Leon noticed her studying his every move as if trying to gauge his intentions.
When he found a jug of water, he turned and held it out in her direction. "Here," he said, his tone calm but insistent.
She hesitated, her jaw tightening for a moment before she took a few tentative steps toward him. Her fingers brushed against the jug as she took it, her blue eyes locking with his.
"You can hate me later," Leon said evenly. "Right now, you need to drink."
Elys didn't reply but lifted the jug and took small sips. Leon nodded before looking back at the rest of the group. They were still clustered around the cages, too wary to organize themselves.
He sighed, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and walking back toward them. "Alright," he said firmly, "if you're coming with me, you're going to pull your weight. That means sticking together, moving quietly, and helping each other." He pointed at the supplies near the wagons. "Grab what you can carry. Food, water, anything useful. We'll figure out the rest later."
It wasn't a rousing speech, but it got a few of them moving. Hesitant hands reached for supplies, and the group began to form a loose, ragged line.
Leon glanced back at Elys, who had finished the water and was standing by the cage, still watching him like a hawk. "You too," he said, motioning toward the supplies.
Leon led the small group of freed captives down the dirt path, the air growing cooler as the sun began to dip behind the hills. Despite their exhaustion and wary demeanor, they followed him, lugging bags of supplies salvaged from the slaver caravan. He occasionally glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was falling behind and, just as importantly, that no one was sneaking off. He had made it clear—stick together, or face the wilderness alone.
Elys stayed near the back of the group, silent but watchful. Her sharp blue eyes darted between the others, rarely lingering on Leon for more than a second. He pretended not to notice, though her suspicion wasn't surprising. Trust wasn't built in a day, and he didn't expect it here.
After nearly an hour of trudging through uneven terrain, they arrived at the site his system had marked as Alpha.
It was a natural clearing surrounded by dense woods. The centerpiece was a shallow, rocky pit for a campfire, with a few sturdy logs arranged around it for makeshift seating. A nearby stream provided fresh water, and the overhanging canopy of trees offered some protection from the elements.
Leon dropped his pack beside the campfire pit and gestured for the others to gather. "This is where we'll stay for now," he said. "It's secure enough to rest, and there's a stream just over there for water." He pointed toward the sound of running water. "Settle in. I'll handle food."
One of the men, middle-aged and wiry, stepped forward hesitantly. "You… you were planning this?"
Leon shrugged. "Not exactly, but I know how to prepare for bad situations."
The group exchanged nervous glances before settling down in awkward clusters. Leon scanned their faces, silently counting. Nine, just as the system had indicated earlier. No one had wandered off, and no one seemed eager to challenge his authority. Good.
He turned his focus to the supplies they'd brought and began sorting through them—prioritizing items they'd need immediately. A sack of potatoes, a few dried herbs, a hunk of salted meat. Primitive, but serviceable. Leon grabbed a knife from his belt and began prepping the food with practiced efficiency.
Elys lingered near the edge of the camp, leaning against a tree. She made no move to join the others or help, instead watching him like a hawk. He met her gaze briefly, then returned to his work.
"Hope you're okay with stew," Leon called over his shoulder to the group.
A young boy, probably no older than ten, perked up at the mention of food. "Real food?" he whispered, his voice cracking.
"Real enough," Leon said, tossing the diced potatoes into a pot. "It's not fancy, but it'll keep you going."
He worked quickly, lighting a fire in the pit and setting the pot to boil with water from the stream. As the aroma of the cooking stew began to fill the air, the tension in the camp visibly lessened.