His stomach bloated first, popping a few buttons from his clothes. If he hadn't been wearing oversized garments, they'd be in tatters by now. Blood vessels bulged across his face, turning his once-handsome features into a grotesque mask. Over several minutes, his neck, arms, and legs elongated, while waves of agony nearly made him black out. Yet his careful dosage kept him from exploding outright.
Base Attributes:
Divine Strength: 17
OverSpeed: 15
(1 point Divine Strength = 10 Strength, 1 point OverSpeed = 10 Agility)
Divine Strength: 20, OverSpeed: 19
Divine Strength: 27, OverSpeed: 21
Divine Strength: 33, OverSpeed: 30
…
Constitution: F (mid-level)
Then a system prompt rang out:
"Congratulations to survivor Logan Lane for reaching mid-F-rank and activating level authority. Main ranks: F, E, D, C; Half-Incarnate Spirit: B, A; Spirit: S, SS, SSS; Beyond Spirit: ??? (active upon surpassing SSS).
Each mortal rank has four stages—early, mid, late, peak. Each half-incarnate spirit rank has nine sub-stages: moving mountains (1–4) and melting seas (5–9). Each spirit rank has three phases: Xuan Realm, Earth Realm, Heaven Mirror.
Any survivor reaching SSS automatically causes all others to vanish; the remaining 5% population is sacrificed to open the unknown."
Logan's bloodshot gaze narrowed, then his stats stabilized near Divine Strength: 39 and OverSpeed: 35. Extra energy still crackled within him, but he sensed a talent-limited bottleneck. The transformation had taken an hour.
When it ended, he was drenched in sweat, as if gallons of water had poured off him.
He looked down at the black sludge coating his skin, stripped off the remnants of his clothes, and filled the D-rank boiler with several wooden buckets of rainwater.
A minute fraction of a Fire Spirit Stone heated it to a boil. He poured that into a D-rank large bath bucket and sank in, ignoring Kevin Lake's wide-eyed disbelief.
In the cramped hut, Logan realized it might be time for an upgrade. The next step, a Cabin, wasn't large enough to matter, and the hut was cozier anyway. Two sequential upgrades—straight to a small villa—would probably be needed.
He briefly imagined sending Kevin to room with the two women, but that would risk them hooking up instead. "I didn't buy them so they could entertain each other," Logan muttered. Glancing at Kevin, he saw the man still looked pale. Probably in shock.
Kevin mustered his courage, addressing him, "Island Master, I—"
Logan cut him off. "Kevin Lake, you're on watch tonight," he said bluntly. "Obey the rules. Don't pry where you shouldn't, don't touch what isn't yours. And from now on, you can call me Island Master Logan or simply Island Master."
"Yes, Island Master. Understood." Kevin forced calm, standing by the hut's door to guard it.
Logan soaked for an hour before emerging to slip into fresh clothes, then sat cross-legged to meditate. Kevin Lake still felt unsettled at the sight of Logan's self-inflicted torture. If he'd do that to himself, Kevin thought, who knows what he'd do to someone else? All he could do was remain loyal, hoping to spare his wife any future risk.
After everyone introduced themselves, they began roasting crab meat. Logan Lane sat to one side, eyes closed, recovering his mental energy. Soon the fragrant aroma of barbecue filled the thatched hut, and Logan opened his eyes.
Using his newly enhanced strength, Logan cracked the crab shell, placed the meat on a plate, and sprinkled salt over it. He took the largest portion for himself—about three pounds—and divided the remaining three portions, totaling around 600 grams, among Kevin Lake, Anna Young, and Rena Dane.
All three were extremely nervous. They'd heard of "rank-grade food" since arriving in this world, but none had tasted it before.
Getting to eat it on their first day under the new "island master" seemed almost too good to be true.
Especially Kevin, who understood how precious rank-grade food was—so valuable that, on the open market, it could trade for a beautiful, untainted girl.
Logan gave two-thirds of his own three-pound share to Bella, the little wood spirit. She happily pecked at the roast meat in small bites while Logan patted her tiny head.
Then Logan ate his remaining piece. Kevin, Anna, and Rena waited for Logan to start eating before devouring their portions by hand—there was only one plate, one pair of chopsticks, and no extra utensils.
They didn't complain, only feeling a surge of excitement. For them, F-rank Icelandic Crab meat felt like molten fire in their bellies.
And because they were Logan's slaves (or subordinates, in name), their attribute panels appeared in Logan's mental view, letting him watch the data increase in real time.