I spun around, instinctively placing a finger to my lips, urging Jayden to be quiet. Here I was, trying to stealthily navigate the stairs, but my best friend seemed to possess the grace of a bull in a china shop with his armor clanging about.

"You're going to wake up the entire village, dude," I hissed in a harsh whisper, my frustration evident.

Jayden flashed me an apologetic grin, but it carried a hint of mischief. Deep down, I knew he wasn't truly sorry. If anything, it seemed like he was becoming even louder as we made our way through the taproom. I couldn't help but fear we would be unable to leave without rousing the entire village. When I cautiously pushed open the tavern door, the darkness of the night still enveloped us. There was a faint glow on the eastern horizon, but the village remained shrouded in darkness.

That's why, when a voice unexpectedly pierced the silence from the darkness, I couldn't help but jump in startled surprise. "What the hell, guys? Where are you going?"

Emerging from the shadows, a figure stepped forward. It was Steve Jr., arms crossed defensively across his chest. His face was a study in contrast, lines of worry etching his forehead, while his eyes sparkled with an almost childlike curiosity.

My words came out in a garbled rush, a tremor running through my voice, highlighting the nerves I was desperately trying to hide. "I, uh, we're just going for an early morning stroll. Anything interesting happen during your watch?"

Steve Jr. let out a chuckle, clearly seeing through my feeble attempt at deception. "Yeah, right. Two jackasses tried to sneak out of town. Don't bullshit me, Cade. I know you're going to try to find your dad."

I didn't want this conversation with Steve Jr. There was no way I would let him or anyone else stand in my way of uncovering the truth about my father. "Please, Steve, don't tell anyone, especially your dad. It's important."

He smirked at me, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Dude, how am I going to be able to tell anyone if I'm going with you? No way I'm letting you two have all the fun."

The weight of Flacco Huerta's recent burial still lingered heavily in my mind. Going out to find my dad wasn't about fun; it was a need to know the truth. "Steve, this isn't a game. It's dangerous out there. Please, go home. I can't be responsible if you get hurt... or worse."

His expression hardened, and he shot back with a hint of defiance. "I can take care of myself, Cade. Besides, either I'm coming with you, or you can try explaining to my dad and Wesley why you're sneaking out."

I weighed my options and let out a frustrated sigh. "Fine. But remember, this isn't some adventure. We're risking everything. We need to watch each other's backs."

As we reached the gatehouse, dawn was just beginning to break. Its first rays were casting a faint, ethereal glow over the village. As we lifted the bar that secured the gate two figures emerged from the shadows. It was Hanna and Sarah, their eyes reflecting a mix of determination and curiosity.

Hanna stepped forward, her impatience palpable. "What took you guys so long? We've been waiting here for ages."

Her eyes widened in surprise when she caught sight of Steve Jr. standing beside us. "Steve? What are you doing here?"

Steve Jr. flashed a cheeky grin, unfazed by Hanna's hardened expression. "Hey, Hanna. Can't let Cade and Jay have all the fun, can I? Besides, someone's gotta watch their backs."

Hanna's skepticism gave way to a mixture of annoyance and begrudging acceptance. "Well, fine. The more the merrier, I guess. But let's not waste any more time. We have a mission to accomplish."

With that, we slipped out the gate, ready to find my dad, or find the truth.

The sun had begun its ascent over the eastern skyline, casting long shadows as we trekked westward, our boots crunching on the fractured, decaying asphalt of the farm-to-market road. We had barely begun when a sound from behind pricked at my ears. Swiveling around, I spotted Wesley's figure making ground, his strides methodical and determined.

As he closed the gap between us, a rush of anger welled up from within me. My voice was fiery, "I have no intention of going back, Wes. Don't even try to stop me."

He returned a regretful smile, acknowledging the futility of his pursuit. "I recognize a lost battle when I see one, Cade. If we're going to do this, let's get a move on. We're burning daylight."

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As the scorching sun hung overhead, its relentless heat served as a reminder of my hunger. For three hours, we had trudged along the monotonous highway loop, only leaving it a few minutes before. Just when my stomach growled in protest, I spied something that brought a glimmer of hope amidst the decaying landscape. Adjacent to the road, a sturdy wooden palisade stood.

Hanna's sharp eyes caught sight of it as well. Breaking away from the road, she veered towards a gate. A sense of cautious anticipation filled the air as her voice carrying through the stillness, "Hello? Anyone inside?"

For a moment, silence hung heavy, broken only by the hot summer breeze rustling nearby leaves. Then, a voice resonated from within, its echo reaching our ears. "Hold your horses. I’m coming."

We stood there, as another minute ticked by. Finally, with a creak, the wooden gate swung open, revealing a man of middling years. Gripping a sword tightly, he surveyed our group, his eyes scanning each face.

In a voice that carried a hint of weariness, he said, "Y'all might want to move on along. We're not in the business of handing out charity."

Wesley stepped forward, “No need for charity. We’re just passing through and saw your village.”

The man took a step back and made as if to shut the gate, “Well, you’ve seen it. Don’t let me stop you from getting on your way.”

Before he could close the gate, another voice from within the compound called out, “Hey, Bill, we haven’t heard anything for more than a week. Let’s hear what they’ve got to say.”

Several people crowded around the gate, pushing it open, despite Bill's attempt to close it off. One man with silver streaks in his hair stepped forward, waving a hand in greeting. "I'm Jim. You've already met Bill. Come on in and rest for a while."

Bill shot him a venomous glare, but Jim remained unfazed, his friendly demeanor intact. Ignoring Bill's disapproval, Jim turned to our group and motioned for us to enter the village. "Don't mind him. He's been carrying the weight of the village on his shoulders ever since he founded it."

As we followed Jim, we were joined by several villagers who were curious to meet the newcomers. Jim guided us to a central area of the village, where a makeshift gathering spot had been arranged. Simple cabins surrounded a crackling cooking fire and sturdy tables.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Apologizing for the modest accommodations, Jim gestured for us to take a seat. "We're sorry for the poor hospitality. Times have been tough since the System turned our world upside down."

While Wesley and Bill fell into conversation, two boys, Tommy and Mitch, approached and perched on the table beside me. Tommy extended his hand, introducing himself and his brother. His gaze focused on my Sharps rifle, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "How did you manage to keep the rifle working?"

It was all I could do to not grip the barrel of my rifle possessively. I shook Tommy's hand and explained, "I used a token on it. Luckily, my rifle is based on a design from over a hundred and fifty years ago, and the System allowed it."

Tommy's eyebrows raised in surprise. "We tried systemizing some of our rifles, but it didn't work. Bill made it work with his revolver, but his ammo ran out after one of the goblin attacks. How are you managing?"

I nodded, keeping my class as a hexslinger to myself. "Fortunately, my family had stocked up on ammo for the rifle before the chaos began. I also managed to systemize the ammo."

As I diverted the conversation to Tommy, I asked about his own class. His hand rested on the rusty knife at his belt. "I'm a warden."

Curiosity piqued, I inquired further. "How did you obtain that class?"

Tommy shrugged, a hint of pride in his voice. "I believe it's because of my background as an Eagle Scout. The warden class focuses on wilderness survival and being in tune with nature."

Turning my attention to Mitch, I extended a question his way. Mitch cupped his hands together, causing an ethereal ball of energy to form in his palm. "Arcane mage."

Impressed by the display, I asked, "How did you become an arcane mage?"

Mitch grinned, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "I've always been fascinated by magic, and when the System arrived, it seemed to recognize that. I guess it's just in my nature."

"Wow," I exclaimed, leaning closer to get a better look. "What else can you cast?"

Mitch closed his fist, causing the energy to dissipate. "Just an arcane bolt for now. I can focus it on a single target. It proved useful during the goblin attacks."

Our conversation continued, and I discovered that their village had started with nearly forty residents. However, in just ten days, they had already lost a third of their population to the relentless threats of monsters and wild animals. Bob, their mayor, remained within the walls, seemingly disconnected from the harsh realities they faced. Perhaps it was a mistake on my part, but I couldn't help sharing how our own village had expanded, with several buildings and even Systemized farms.

As our discussion drew to a close, Wesley stood up and shook Jim's hand. "Thank you for exchanging information, Mr. Bridger. However, we should continue on our journey if we want to reach our destination today."

Once we hit the road again, leaving the village to shrink in our wake, I sidled up to Wesley. 'What's your take on them?

Wesley paused, his gaze fixed on the distant wooden walls. "They won't survive another week. Their mayor seems clueless."

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As the afternoon sun hung low in the sky, we found ourselves arriving at a small town, nestled on the fringes of the state park. The first indication of the town's presence was the remnants of a trailer park. Hanna, taking the lead, signaled for us to veer off the road. As we made our way through the ruins of the trailer park, the extent of the devastation became apparent. Every structure had been set ablaze, yet nothing seemed to be incorporated into the system, despite signs pointing to goblins or other monstrous creatures as the culprits.

Glass crunched underfoot as we followed Hanna’s lead through the ghost town. Not a single window was spared the wrath of the destruction. The sound of buzzing flies hit me at the same time as a sickly sweet odor hit my nose. Hanna quickly retraced her steps, declaring, "Nope. I'm not going any further down this street. It's been hit by kobolds."

I tried my best to hold my breath, my face contorting with disgust. I longed to rid my nostrils of that repugnant stench. If these kobolds were anything like the ones we encountered on the second day of the System, I dreaded the thought of stumbling upon charred human remains, remnants of the kobolds' gruesome feasts.

Wesley's features hardened, and with a silent gesture, he beckoned us to turn left. We found ourselves trailing onto a gravel road, running like a rugged scar beside the ruined trailer park. Although trees seemed to encroach upon the road, giving it a slightly overgrown appearance, the fact that gravel was pretty low tech seemed to keep decay at bay.

Hanna pointed down the road and remarked, "Looks like a System village."

Less than two hundred paces away, we spotted a wooden palisade just beyond the end of the demolished trailer park. Wesley set off toward the protective walls, stating, "Maybe they'll have some information about the park."

Unlike the earlier village wall we encountered, which provided minimal protection, this one was impressive and sturdy despite being constructed from wood. It stood at least twice the height of the tallest man, with wooden blockhouses resembling those seen in old western forts positioned at each corner.

A voice boomed from the nearest blockhouse, halting our progress. "That's as far as you go, folks. Unless you have business with us, you might as well turn around and go back the way you came."

Wesley responded amicably, raising his hand in a friendly wave. "Just passersby," he explained, "We're headed towards the state park."

A moment later, another voice shouted, filled with skepticism, "You're either really brave or incredibly stupid."

Before Wesley could reply, I took a step forward and shouted back, "Why's that? My dad is there."

The voice from the blockhouse retorted, "There's nothing there but wild animals and monsters."

Wesley’s hand fell onto my shoulder, restraint evident in his firm grip. He whispered, just audible enough for me, "Don't, Cade."

Turning his attention back to the blockhouse, he asked, "Are you folks interested in trading for information?"

A tense silence shrouded us, stretching out to fill the next couple of minutes with raw uncertainty. Just as I began to think we should walk away, a heavy door in the wall creaked open, revealing two men. The first, slightly older than Wesley, sported a sturdy leather chest piece and carried a crossbow slung over his shoulder. However, it was the second man who caught my attention. Clad in a buckskin jacket his hair was graying, he wielded a rifle. It was well-worn but showed no signs of decay, defying the typical degradation of non-systemized firearms after more than ten days.

As the older man closed the door behind them, the younger one scrutinized us, issuing a warning, "Maybe. Just remember, we've got you covered, so no funny business."

I glanced at Jayden, silently pleading for him not to take it as a dare. The mere suggestion of sharp objects aimed in our direction was enough to put my best friend on guard. He positioned himself a few feet behind Wesley, his hand lightly resting on his sword's hilt.

Wesley opened his hands wide, a universal symbol of our peaceable intentions. He proceeded to explain where we came from, how we had formed a village near our old town, and our quest to find my missing father.

The young man rubbed his clean-shaven face, displaying a hint of weariness. "Things are tough enough for us without sending our adventure groups too far out. Your village doesn't seem to have that problem."

Wes shrugged, "Like you, we're simply trying to survive. Sometimes that means searching for our family members from before the System ruined everything."

Both men shared a chuckle and a knowing glance. "Yeah, those who believed the System would bring greatness must have played one too many video games."

The younger man resumed speaking, "Look, there's not much we can do to assist you in finding anyone at the park. It's overrun by powerful animals that would tear you apart without a second thought. However, it's getting late, and you're welcome to camp here for the night. Our walls have held against both monsters and animals for a while now. We keep our blockhouses manned around the clock."

Wesley engaged in a conversation with the younger man, exchanging valuable information. Meanwhile, my gaze kept gravitating towards the older man's rifle. I subtly moved closer to him, hoping for a better view. As he noticed my interest, he raised his rifle, allowing me a clearer look. "Winchester, model seventy-three," he said.

Lifting my own rifle, I drew his attention. He studied it for a moment before nodding in approval. "Impressive. That's the same model from the Quigley movie, isn't it?"

I nodded in response. "Yeah. Did you use your system token on the Winchester?"

His voice carried a gravelly tone, "Yep, until my ammunition runs out. Every day, the cartridges become a little less effective. Perhaps I'll find some on the auction house. Someone's been selling systemized ammo, but it's for two-two-seven caliber. I need forty-four-forty."

I couldn't conceal a smile, but I decided to play it safe. "Ammunition is hard to come by. I'll have to check the auction house. Maybe there's someone selling forty-five-seventy that I can buy. For now, I'm covered."

For a moment, I entertained the idea of offering to infuse some ammo for him. However, considering the lack of assistance this village had provided us, I resolved to keep an eye out for .44-40 cartridges and sell them on the auction house. Let him compete with others for the ammunition. Screw them.