When he did, three menu options popped up:
Regional Survivors Chat Channel
Regional Survivors Trading Channel
Personal Private Chat
A fourth option, Group, was there too but was disabled.
Logan chose the Regional Survivors Chat Channel, and a stream of messages appeared:
ImYourFather: "What is going on? I was in the shower and suddenly I'm here, no clothes! If anyone can spare something, I'd be grateful!"
FlowersYesterday: "Oh man, that's awful. Still, I keep picturing it in my head. Sorry, can't stop laughing…"
BatmanKillsSuperman: "My kid is injured. Does anyone have any medicine, like antibiotics?"
AngelInWhite: "I'm a doctor. But we should all have enhanced bodies now. Even broken legs might heal faster. Are you sure you need meds?"
TaroHonda: "I was exercising… not dressed. If this is some Western scheme, tell me now!"
GirlPower: "I was doing my makeup. My eyebrows are only half drawn. This is nuts."
Ironman: "Well, I guess I don't need to pay my mortgage anymore."
HitlerAgain: "Like +1."
ElonTusk: "Like +1 too!"
Some people sounded scared, others joked to stay calm.
Reading these messages made Logan chuckle despite himself. Somehow, he felt something was amiss, as though there was a chunk of memory missing. Trying to recall it gave him a splitting headache, as though repressed by an unknown force.
Everyone only had three chat messages per day, and Logan didn't want to waste them. Now that he was stranded on this little island, it was time to adapt.
Shaking off that uneasy feeling, he focused on survival.
Apart from the stone pillar (the island's anchor), the only other thing here was a single evergreen tree. No sand, no gravel—just bare rock. And inside his backpack, all he had was a bottle of water, a small loaf of bread, and a fishing net with a seven-day lifespan.
Survival was his priority. That fishing net allowed him three casts per day, for seven days. He had to try to gather enough supplies quickly. He also needed to build a small storage area or maybe even a shelter, because the backpack's capacity was limited.
Logan withdrew the fishing net and peered into the dark sea stretching out all around him. It was daytime, yet he couldn't see anything below the surface. It felt more like an endless black abyss.
It made sense the system had to boost everyone's physical stats and luck—this was going to be a shot in the dark. In his past, Logan had briefly stayed in a fishing village before being pulled here by some mysterious power, so he at least knew how to cast and retrieve a net. He flung the net wide in a perfect arc, letting it sink into those inky depths.The net fanned open, then disappeared beneath the surface.
Suddenly he heard a sound, "Ding Dong!"
Logan Lane heard this voice very clearly, as if the metal ball of the fishing net touched something. It had just been put down—was there already a catch?
Logan gritted his teeth and immediately began to close the net. Worst case, he would waste an opportunity. The fishing net was quickly retracted under his pull, and soon he felt a surge of excitement in his heart. It truly had snagged something; otherwise, it wouldn't feel so heavy.
Slowly, Logan felt that something was very wrong. It was far too heavy. He knew his current strength was fifty percent greater than before arriving here, yet even he could barely move it.
It took two hours, inch by inch, to pull the net up. He didn't have time to see what was in the net before collapsing to the ground.
When he looked at what he caught, he was dumbfounded.