The most important thing you can learn from one of the top players is how to become like them. And once you become one, think of ways to go even further.

— What would you change if you started your journey on the islands over again? What would you do first?

— First of all, I will acquire capture points, develop the training room, and I won’t just sit back; I’ll immediately fly to all the nearby islands, using all the accumulated energy. I advise you to do the same.

— I’ve already upgraded the room to a cultivation hall, I boast.

— Cultivation hall? I’ve never heard of that. I’ve heard of the magical hall where people learn to throw fireballs and lightning and such. I know about the training camp where they learn to use various weapons, but cultivation is new to me. So, people on the islands can have different development paths. On one hand, it’s great; I’ll be able to surprise my opponents once I become strong enough. On the other hand, I could be surprised by everyone else.

— Second, I would upgrade the biolaboratory. Perhaps I got a bit carried away saying I regret my choice. As long as I can turn the purchased meat into the death of any Nightmare I encounter, I’m on top. You can buy food, but you can’t buy overwhelming power.

So, that’s settled.

— Tell me, what ways are there to protect your island?

— Weak artifacts are eventually found by anyone who has lived in this world for a certain time. Strong ones are only found on islands with powerful Nightmares. Ideally, on gigantic islands the size of a shopping mall in Moscow, which you simply can’t capture. Those islands can be approached together — there’s a real dock there. You have a protection tab. As soon as you obtain an artifact, you can place it in storage, and through this tab set up your protection. Some use a necrotic artifact, and the dead monsters guard the island. Others prefer “drones,” or force fields.

This is also clear. I need to find protective artifacts for myself.

— By the way, why do those who have leveled up in the biolaboratory and actively cleanse the islands starve? You must have built farms long ago.

— You don’t understand how farms work. First of all, seeds here are a rare thing. If you come across some peasant hut on the islands, all the food there is fossilized by time. The person who got lucky enough to obtain seeds that even sprouted on their farm won’t sell them at auction — they’ll sell the ready-made food, fried or boiled, for a fortune. As you can understand, planting some boiled corn is a foolish idea. Secondly, you need to regularly monitor the farm. During the day, you need to water the plants every couple of hours, which grow like yeast. Trim branches, cut excess sprouts. In short, it’s easier for me to hunt and buy meat, which is more calorically dense than some potatoes, than to become a farmer.

— Alright, we’ve clarified that. And what were you saying about the appearance? — I recalled his first messages. — What is it?

— It’s a thing that will make you much stronger and give you super abilities. But it will take quite a bit in return. Basically, when you learn to stay here at night and kill a strong monster at night, some minor thing will be left behind. A bracelet, a brooch, a little stone, a piece of clothing. This thing will hold all the magic that the monster possessed. Put on the ring or bracelet, and you can utilize that magic. But the more borrowed power you spend, the greater the backlash will be. You’ll find out for yourself if you reach that point.

— Alright… Tell me, until recently, did people really not remember in reality what was happening to them in this world?

— Free advice: don’t consider this world unreal. It’s the same life, just a bit different. As for your question — yes, until recently, people who fall asleep here didn’t remember this world in reality. And before you ask: no, I don’t know anything about those who sleep and can’t wake up. One thing I can say for sure — wherever they are and whatever happens to them, it’s not good.

— Is it possible to transfer things to the native world?

— I haven’t heard of such a thing, — admitted Crown. — But here’s the thing. I heard about a guy who broke down a steel door with a blow. Or not a blow, but with magic that witnesses might not have noticed or thought it was just their imagination. If there’s a possibility to transfer superpowers to that world, maybe you can also drag things over.

Makes sense. If there are all sorts of abilities, maybe some crafter will create a portal to Earth, or vice versa — from Earth here.

— What do you get when you capture the island of another survivor?

— Dangerous question. You better drop such thoughts, Nightmarish. I wouldn’t want to later hunt you down with other concerned people.

So, Crown is a man of honest rules. Alright, I’ll ask someone else. Or find out empirically.

— I just asked out of interest; I don’t intend to rob anyone. Tell me, can you create blueprints for the workshop yourself? And is there a way to add new buildings to the island?

— You can create blueprints if you’re skilled in some 3D renderer. At the first level, you can’t create anything, but if you upgrade the workshop to the second level, you can. I personally didn’t figure it out — I looked at hundreds of tabs, menus, and names, and realized it’s not for me. How can I figure out the "blender" without training courses? I can whip up a spear, the most basic one, but a bow, shield, or something similar — no. As for other buildings — I haven’t heard of them being unlocked, but you can acquire them. If you find and capture an island with a building like a workshop, it will appear for you.

Great. I think that if I capture the island of someone who has such a building, it will be transferred to my island.

— Can a blueprint be created independently?

— I think it’s possible. But you need the right tools or the right workshop. So far, I haven’t heard of anyone doing such a thing, and no one constantly trades blueprints at auctions… That’s about it, unless you completely wear me out. I’ve definitely paid for five kilograms. Are you going to extend?

I didn’t extend — I had run out of questions. We ended our conversation, agreeing that next time I could message him at any time, as long as he wasn’t busy; he would reply. But for meat.

After the conversation, I looked at the storage and was pleasantly surprised. Three lots closed that I had listed without much hope.

Now I had gray pants made of coarse fabric resembling burlap (they turned out to be small and ended ten centimeters below the knee, but fortunately, they were wide enough at the waist), a belt, and a gray sleeveless top that the system called a "shirt." All this cost me seven kilograms of meat, which I now had plenty of.

But no one had exchanged the water bottle for containers yet. So, I returned to the island with the body of water, washed my clothes (or rather — my only dirty item), cleaned myself up, dressed in clean clothes, and set off from the island, leaving it for others in need of a bath. However, before that, I ripped out all the thickets from the shore and put the plants up for auction, leaving a couple in storage. Maybe someone will buy them.

As soon as I sailed away from the island with the puddle, it slowly drifted away from me. I occupied myself with the next thing.

“Exploring this island is a great idea. There are two rock dogs, but both are weak after a recent skirmish. There’s a chest with a lot of food on the island; a short battle and little danger will pay off.”

I didn’t particularly need food, but while it was priced at least silver, I could exchange it for other resources. Sighing, I pulled the lever towards the island. I had already warmed up and gone through my daily hardening and meditation, so there was no point in delaying.

After inspecting the island from all sides, I didn’t see anyone except the dogs lying in the shadow of a flimsy awning. The dogs were exhausted and merely followed me with their mournful gazes.

I expected that as soon as the islands touched, the dogs would pounce on me, but they remained under the awning. They merely growled warningly, baring their yellow fangs.

The Nightmares didn’t look too good. I noticed a couple of cut wounds, and the dogs looked abnormally skinny. Clearly underfed, but they had no forum to sit on the ears of sympathetic gatherers.

Aside from the dogs under the awning, there was a chest, and someone’s bloodied bones lay scattered around. A faint smell of blood lingered in the air. Did they accidentally kill a seeker? And if so, where’s his island?

I waited until the islands were connected and jumped across the narrow gap.

The dogs barked at me but didn’t charge. I had to approach them, but they didn’t let me get close. As I closed the distance to about four meters, the dogs jumped up and slowly moved to either side, closing in on me. Both moved slowly, but suddenly — dashed!

I stepped aside and struck without the slightest hesitation. The dog tried to dodge, but the short spear struck its neck. My hand jerked, but I didn’t release the spear — I pulled the shaft back.

The dog lay on the ground howling, digging in the dust with its paws. In the meantime, I sliced through the air, driving away the second dog. The dog didn’t attack — it tucked its tail and ran towards my island.

Oh damn…

The hunt for the second dog dragged on. I had to injure it with a knife throw to catch up, as even wounded, the Nightmare ran faster than I did.

But it was over — the spear found its way into the dog’s side. The Nightmare squealed thinly.

I stepped back, pulling out the spear, then — struck again, piercing its ribs. The dog died.

That’s eight kilograms of meat for a short fight. It should total eight kilos, right?

The dog's carcass disappeared, but I had to go after the second one myself. This time, I also got four kilos for each dog, as if they were the same as the one that the snakes had strangled. Though these were even plumper than the old man.

“Rock dog meat — 8 kg”

— Where’s the rock dog’s skin? Where are the rock dog’s bones, damn it? — I grumbled. — Where are the dog’s entrails? Where’s everything that can be sold besides the meat?

I returned to the island and approached the copper treasure chest. First — I gave it a light tap on its side, just in case. Making sure I wasn’t facing a mimic, I pried open the lid with my spear.

Inside the chest, I found three food bricks and a liter bottle of water. Well… there’s your heap of food.

Now — for the improvement. I needed to create a laboratory for myself.

Two capture points disappeared, swallowed by the greedy island.

The stones in the ruins trembled. One flew off from the pile, loudly snapping against larger stones, and landed on the remnants of the foundation. Following it, another rolled down, and then — a third flew through the air. The pile of stones and remnants quaked, and a shard of wall peeked out from beneath it.

And the ruins began to restore themselves, as if someone turned back time. Stone blocks were being stacked back into walls, cracks were being filled with dust carried by the wind, and the broken window was reassembled from fragments. Only that wasn't where it ended — pieces of stone, glass, and wooden splinters flew inside, restoring something. And when the flow of wind, sand, and glass debris subsided, I walked around the biolaboratory.

The building resembled a cylinder with a single window and door. Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the doorway.

Inside, it was somewhat cramped. Against the wall stood a glass cylinder, and I couldn’t make out what was inside.

In the middle of the room stood a stone pedestal that held a tiny display, and next to it was another glass flask.

I ran my hand across the screen.

“Biolaboratory. Available:

— Low-rank evolution (warning, side effects may occur!).

— Creation of an orc seed.

To generate new options, upgrade the laboratory!”

It seems that this evolution option is the very one Crown regretted. The one that gives great power but in return you’re ready to devour anyone. And I hadn’t heard about the second option.

“Create orc seed? Required for creation: 1 kg of meat.”

— Interesting. What’s an “orc”?

I found a reference there and read:

“Orc — a one-time symbiont that will help you become stronger. Its seed looks like a bunch of roots. You will need to place the seed into the wound of a living (or at least recently killed) creature. The seed will drain the creature and condense all the nutrients and energy of the Nightmare into a pill, which is called orc. Consume it, and it will improve your physical condition.”

A nutritious pill with the taste of rock dog. Only slightly sweeter than a chunk of raw meat.

Maybe for some Korean, it’s normal — not only to eat dog meat but also the eyes, brain, and then snack on a live bat, but I would be repulsed. Though there’s no choice, it’s unlikely there are pig and cow monsters around here to use an orc on.

I messaged Crown.

— Don’t eat it yourself — it won’t do you any good, — I lied. You might as well sell it to me; I’ll throw you a couple of units of iron in return. Though wait, you’re probably still wandering around in your underwear, right? Do you want me to send you some pants with a belt?

After such a proposal, I didn’t hesitate long.

— Create orc seed.

On the other hand, it shouldn’t be such a disgusting thing — after all, it’s not raw meat, right?

Just in case, I looked at the orc seed from the pipe. The description was the same but with a small addition.

“Don’t handle the orc seed with your hands if you have wounds on your palms.”

A chill crawled across my skin, and I nearly tossed aside the dangerous artifact. Will it eat me?

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

But the seed looked like an ordinary tuber, except that the roots of this tuber resembled worms.

Unfortunately, I no longer had dog bodies for the experiment. But I had a whistle that summoned flying snakes.

I entered the training hall, faced the entrance, and summoned the snakes. Over these days, I had already learned to fight them — if you summon them in open space, they will definitely appear from behind, even if you just looked there a second ago and saw nothing — such is the special street magic. Does it teleport them there or something?

The snakes flew slowly but purposefully. Seven slow creatures measuring about one and a half meters. Bigger than usual, and quite a sizable pack.

Alright, we’ll break through and even beat them while we’re at it. Sooner or later, I would have to learn to kill such a pack of creatures. I need to grow above myself every day.

With knives in hand, as soon as they approach — I send them both into the heads of the snakes!

Both creatures managed to dodge — one was pierced in the wing by a knife, the other was slashed across the neck. Both flapped their wings in a panic, but the first fell to the island, while the second went for another round. I managed to throw in two more knives, hitting one in the creature’s mouth — it crashed down and vanished on the rocks, meaning it was killed. I grabbed my spear, and onto the operational space — I wouldn’t hold out against four creatures in the room.

The creatures hissed loudly and swooped down on me, but I was already accustomed — I immediately dashed around the corner. Turning around, I pierced the neck of one snake with the tip. I shook off the snake, and for the next one — I added a blow with the shaft to its head. The blow was unexpectedly strong — like smashing a rotten pumpkin, I cracked the skull.

Backstep!

Just in time!

Three snakes remained in the air, and one of them nearly bit off my face as it peeked out from the flat roof of the cultivation hall. If it weren't for the rustle, it would have definitely bitten me. What a greedy bitch, hungry for flesh…

I struck at the snake’s gaping mouth, noting a bloody stripe on its neck in passing. So that’s where I threw the knife.

I pulled the spear towards me, and the body fell from the roof. I pressed my foot against its neck; otherwise, I couldn’t free the spear — it was lodged firmly. I could dart away; there were still three spears scattered across the island, but I didn’t see other snakes, and I didn’t want to run into them without weapons.

The vertebrae crunched underfoot, and the creature vanished.

I spent an unallowably long time on one snake. I dashed five meters to the side, looking around.

No one.

I walked around further. Viewed.

No snakes.

I spent another ten minutes searching for the winged ones. I finished off the one with the torn wing — it barely crawled to the edge of the island. I didn’t find the others. In total — five bodies out of seven. In half an hour, I’d have to check again — who knows, they might be holed up in the roots somewhere at the bottom of the island, preparing to crawl out while I’m here resting.

I summoned all the bodies from the storage, dragged them to the dog island. I carefully examined my palms and took out the orc seed.

The artifact fell onto the wound of the snake. Its pale roots stirred and, with a nauseating crunch, burrowed deeper into the body of the flying snake. But that wasn’t the end of the show: after a couple of seconds, red thin sprouts grew from the wound, feeling around the floor. Discovering the body of another snake, the roots wrapped around it and, with unpleasant ease, dragged the body towards them.

I kicked the third monster towards the orc. The tentacles greedily wrapped around it: pulled it closer and enveloped it, penetrating into the wound, into the mouth, into the nostrils, and eyes. The snake withered away, like a deflating balloon.

The spectacle was as disgusting as it was unnatural. At that moment, I felt very clearly that the world I was in was not a beautiful and colorful place. There are flying islands here, but it is certainly not the world of Floating Islands. This is indeed the world of Nightmares, and there is plenty of repulsiveness here.

I stepped away from the greedy tentacles that had already found the fifth body and settled in the training room, where I couldn’t see what was happening. I sat for at least an hour, trying to calm down. Somehow suddenly and very strongly it hit me that this was definitely not a dream, but another reality. Not a fairyland of cultivation where you become stronger through meditation, but a cruel and at times frightening one.

When I finally returned to the dog island, I felt a wave of revulsion wash over me. The entire space under the awning was filled with blood. Snake skins and bones lay in a heap on the floor: they had turned into a mush of skin scraps, scales, and bone splinters. I walked barefoot across the mixture of blood, dust, and meat until I reached a large pill lying on a bony "bowl" with a meter-long leg, grown from an orsa seed.

The pill was hot. I hope it doesn't start eating me from the inside. I turned around, walked back to the island, leaving bloody tracks, swallowed the pill, and washed it down with water from a bottle. There was no reflection, no thoughts about whether it was right. I understood that I would either become stronger and survive in this world or get stuck on the island, not benefiting from the lab's resources and eventually stop flying to other islands. And that was enough: I didn't want to be a burden.

The taste of the orsa was like a coated tablet. I swallowed it and felt a heat spreading through my body. Additionally, a soft sensation of incoming energy washed over me. The wound left by the snake from the first summon itched. I sat cross-legged and plunged into meditation. The energy from the figure on the wall was not flowing — as soon as the trainer left, the energy flow from the engraving ceased. But now the energy flow came from my stomach, and it was even slightly stronger than from the drawing. Excellent! I have another way to cut the long path to martial arts. Next time, I need to take this before hardening my body — who knows, maybe I'll get through eighteen exercises.

After meditation, it began to get dark. Before bedtime, I checked the forum and hummed in confusion. There were heated discussions on the forum surrounding some Mahan. Scrolling to the first message, I found out what all the fuss was about.

"I thought about whether to tell what happened to me, and then I gathered my courage and started typing," Mahan said. "They tracked me down in reality. In the evening, some guys in uniform came to me. They frightened my wife and under a made-up pretext that I allegedly broke some display, they offered me to 'nicely' get into a minibus. They took me to some building with gray walls, confiscated my phone and wallet. They left my clothes.

There were bars on the windows, barbed wire on the walls, everything like in a prison, only this isn't a prison. I know where the colonies, pre-trial detention centers, and the Federal Penitentiary Service are located, and I definitely wasn’t there. I spent the rest of the evening sitting in a spacious and even comfortable (sarcasm, though it was genuinely comfortable) cell, reading books from the bookcase. Nobody says why I'm here, though nothing good comes to mind.

I told everyone I could about what was happening to me in dreams. I wrote on lucid dreaming forums, used an alias on the real-world forum that sounded like my surname. I even shot a couple of videos showing my abilities and uploaded them online. Now I’ll have to pay for it…

Guys, I don't know what awaits me here, but please be careful. Be cautious. They tracked me down and caught me, but I hope that won't happen to you."

Following that, there was a flood of messages filled with fear and biting irony. Some sympathized, recalling how they themselves tried to stand out, while others called it a stupid prank.

Well, here we go. I can't say I'm surprised. If I were in the authorities' place, like any sane person, I would also try to take control of something new, dangerous, and potentially profitable. And here is an entire new world!

Interestingly, the news from the forum didn't end there. One seeker wrote: "I want to find out what's in the fog. I packed food for two days and flew down." They wished him good luck, speculated on what could be hiding in the fog, and the discussion ended — everyone returned to Mahan. I went into the cultivation hall, lay down on the mats, and closed my eyes.

After the adventures in another world, I slept until eleven, and then Stas, Oleg's brother, woke me with a call.

"Arthur, have you changed your mind about the workshop? We need help here, and Oleg said you were looking for a job and could start at any time. The truth is, I've been trying to reach you since ten, but it’s been unsuccessful."

I didn't want to start.

"Stas, I’m not feeling well. Can you manage without me today?"

The man muttered something incoherent.

"Okay, I’ll ask Oleg to help. But in the future, decide whether you need this job or if I should find another master. The adult life is like that — no work means no money."

There were short beeps on the line. I sighed. Of course, it's a shame that it turned out this way — I asked for that job myself, but I certainly couldn't help in the workshop today. I feel tired, my bones ache, my muscles burn…

I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth, and glancing in the mirror, I suddenly realized that my body had changed.

I had gone to the bars and even jogged when I was in the mood, but I hadn't seriously engaged in sports and had never trained to exhaustion before the Islands. I never worried about every burned kilogram, didn't count calories in food, and was definitely not an advocate of healthy eating. So it was slightly shocking that my almost flat stomach had morphed into sharply defined abs, and my shoulders had broadened. There used to be almost no fat on my biceps, but now the little that was there had disappeared. My posture had changed so much that hunching over became a problem — it felt uncomfortable in that position, my muscles wanted to straighten up.

The transformation wasn't instantaneous — I was surely changing after each cycle of hardening exercises. I just didn't often approach the mirror to notice those changes.

What I didn't like was the unhealthy pallor. I couldn't be called a tanned guy, but it felt as if all the tan had been sucked out of my skin. Combined with the sharp pain in my eyes, it led to unsettling thoughts. Am I turning into a monster?

A call distracted me from my dark thoughts. It was Oleg.

"Kosalapy is looking for you."

There is no one in the world I hated more. Vivid and quite unflattering memories of the cop who had a heavy limp on his left leg surged to mind.

I first heard about Kosalapy four years ago. Oleg's parents had a dog sneak into their yard, dug a hole under a solid fence, demolished the wall of a chicken coop, and killed half a hundred adult turkeys, ready for sale. And a couple of dozen others were injured. They called the police, who arrived, collected hair from the dig, described the damages, and left. Three weeks later, there was a refusal to initiate criminal proceedings (lack of a crime element). Oleg's father found the dog’s owner himself (the neighbors tipped them off), and the owner told him that his friends in uniform had taken the full amount of damages from him and also a "fine" so that he wouldn't get a criminal record. Among those businessmen was also Kosalapy.

That's how I learned about such a person without meeting him face to face.

Then it turned out that either his daughter or a young-looking woman lived in the neighboring house. I saw him in uniform a couple of times, getting out of a white Mark. Then some flask went missing from Kosalapy's car. Apparently, someone told him that my fingers were nimble, and detailed my appearance — a man approached me while I was sitting on the bench with friends and immediately began to pummel me with fists. My friends stood around and shouted for him to stop, but no one thought to pull out their mobile phones or dared to even touch a person in uniform — sometimes you could get detention for just throwing away a cup. I fell off the bench, buried my face in my knees, covering my face with my hands, while the cop kicked my back, even hitting my head a few times.

This happened about a year ago.

And yesterday, Semyonych scared me with the police, after which Oleg mentions Kosalapy.

"Arthur, are you there?"

"Yeah, just lost my thoughts. What does he want?"

"I don’t know. I told him right away: I don’t know where you live, and I don’t have any contact with you. I wouldn’t say anything at all, but my mother was nearby, so I had to play the obedient boy."

"Got it, thanks."

"So it’s probably best if you don’t appear near the house for now. As I understood, he didn’t find your folks at home, so he started bothering everyone near the entrance. But if he interrogates them, they might say you wanted to work at the workshop. You didn’t make a secret of that, did you?"

Got it. Forget about the part-time job, because I definitely don’t want to cross paths with the authorities right now. Not after Mahan’s message. And in general, one night in a holding cell would be enough to understand that my sleep is way too heavy.

I gritted my teeth from the onslaught of helplessness.

You can be a cultivator, earn the reputation of a Nightmarish Merchant, accumulate resources and eat orsas, defeat packs of snakes in the world of Nightmares, but you are nothing before a corrupt and rotten man in uniform. You can't even touch him.