Rico had chopped down more than a dozen coconut trees, storing thirty coconuts and fifty-six logs in his backpack. His body, however, was drained—his stamina had dropped to a mere 12 points.

He ate another coconut, then selected the [Manufacturing] function on the virtual interface before him. Navigating to the [Building] section, he found the option to transform logs into wood, and with a swift motion, he clicked [Manufacture All].

A green manufacturing bar appeared before his eyes, its progress bar crawling from left to right. With each moment that passed, one log became four pieces of wood. It took time to craft all fifty-six logs, but at last, he had 224 pieces of wood. The material was simple, square and flat, yet its weight seemed nonexistent as he held it in his hand.

Place it!

Rico’s heart surged with understanding as he held the wood in his palm. His hand moved to the designated position, and in a blink, the wood appeared on the ground before him. He tried pushing and pulling it but found the block unyielding, firmly rooted to the earth. The wood resisted all attempts to move it, yet with a strike from his dagger, its durability began to drop. Once its durability reached zero, the block would return to his backpack.

Just like the game…

With a satisfied smirk, Rico proceeded to build a 5x5 foundation with the wood, stacking it higher until a simple square shelter emerged, sealed with a roof. The final touch was adding a wooden door, crafted from the remaining logs. His first shelter stood before him—a basic structure, but one that would protect him from the elements.

However, it was clear that more was needed. A simple campfire was required to dry his clothes and restore warmth. He gathered the necessary materials: four pieces of wood and three plant fibers, though he had plans for something more permanent.

The stone bonfire, a creation of eight stones and four woods, was his next goal. Rico had already found the stones along the beach and collected them with ease. Plant fibers were easily harvested from the dense grass in the nearby forest. After gathering the materials, Rico returned to his shelter, the firewood and stones packed tightly in his backpack.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

As the wind howled around the beach, Rico set to work crafting the stone campfire.

[News]: The stone bonfire was successfully made, stones -8, wood -4!

He placed the bonfire in the room, and flames burst forth, warming the air. Rico sank into the comfort of the fire, the cold retreating as his body temperature returned to normal. His wet clothes were spread out beside him, drying in the warmth.

The robe he wore, rough and crudely made, was little more than a makeshift garment. As he undressed and laid beside the fire, he felt the warmth seep into his bones. The fire was essential—without it, survival would be impossible in this harsh world.

Rico, exhausted from the day's labor, decided to sleep. He crafted a sleeping bag using twenty plant fibers, a simple yet effective item to keep him warm during the night. His eyes grew heavy, and soon, he was fast asleep, the blue sun sinking beneath the horizon and the world around him darkening.

The night was long, but Rico’s body recovered quickly. By the time he woke, his stamina was restored, and his body temperature had normalized. He crawled out of his sleeping bag, his immediate need for relief pressing upon him. The campfire had gone out, and the room was dark.

With no time to waste, Rico stumbled toward the location of the campfire, lighting it once more with a few pieces of wood. The flame danced, and from it, a piece of coal was produced.

Charcoal turns into coal so quickly—it’s almost absurd! Rico thought to himself. It was strange, but the system was not bound by the rules of reality. As long as he could survive, he had little room to complain.

The warmth of the fire made it easier to focus. He grabbed a torch made from coal and wood, and with the light in hand, stepped outside. The night was eerily quiet, but the sound of distant rustling caught his attention. His eyes narrowed as he followed the strange noise to the beach.

"Ka La, Ka La…" The sound was sharp, like bamboo boards knocking together.

Curiosity urged him forward, but then his scalp prickled with unease. A skeletal figure emerged from the shadows of the beach, its snow-white bones glowing with blue flames from its empty eye sockets. The undead creature advanced, its mouth moving rapidly, as though it were speaking—yet no words escaped.

It was alive—at least, in a way.

Rico’s heart raced. What manner of beings had he awakened in this new world?