Right then, the strange voices echoed in his mind again.

"Do you think he heard us?"

"He's just a human, not a god. How could he possibly hear us?"

"But he looks like he actually understood."

Hank Fowler's eyes widened, his gaze filled with shock. "It's not a hallucination!" he muttered.

This time he was absolutely certain. The voices were coming from the seeds.

But that raised a question.

Why could he hear the seeds talking? And if he could hear them, could he hear other things too?

His eyes flickered, and he turned his gaze to a large boulder nearby.

Suddenly, a gravelly voice rumbled in his mind. "What are you staring at, kid? I'm just an ordinary rock. Useless. Don't even think about getting any ideas."

Hank narrowed his eyes, a thought striking him. The System had mentioned that each survivor would awaken a random talent.

Could this be it? Hearing the thoughts of seeds and rocks? Seemed a bit niche, but hey, he wasn't complaining.

He focused his mind, and a transparent screen, about half a meter square, materialized before him.

This was the game panel.

It was divided into five sections: World Channel, Regional Channel, Trading Hall, Stat Panel, and Private Chat.

Hank's eyes scanned over them, finally settling on the Stat Panel. He tapped it.

Survivor: Hank Fowler

Region: 10086

Level: 1

Experience: 0/100

Physique:

Strength: 8 (Below the cosmic average. Seriously?)

Agility: 10 (Cosmic average. Mediocre.)

Defense: 5 (Far below the cosmic average. Ouch.)

Spirit: 11 (Slightly above the cosmic average. Small victories, I guess.)

Overall Assessment: An utterly unremarkable physique. Nothing stands out. Plain as plain can be.

Talent: Healing (Talent will improve with level. At least there's that.)

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Hank stared at the panel, scratching his head.

His talent was… healing? Then what was this whole 'listening to inanimate objects' thing? A bonus feature?

He decided not to dwell on it. Whatever the reason, it was a good thing. An extra ability meant an extra edge in this dangerous world.

Taking a deep breath, he closed the panel and took out the two blueprints. He was about to examine them when a female voice called out, "Hey, you! Come over here for a second."

Hank looked up and saw three women standing under a large tree some distance away.

These must be the other three survivors.

He casually strolled over, taking the opportunity to size them up.

The one on the left looked to be under twenty, with a petite figure and light-yellow curls that shimmered like sunlight on water. A slight smile played on her lips, revealing two dimples that made her look exceptionally cute. Her most striking feature, however, was her chest. It was… impressive. Like two ripe melons threatening to burst free from their confines.

"Good lord," Hank muttered under his breath before shifting his gaze to the other two.

The woman in the middle was older, probably around thirty, with a voluptuous figure and a pretty face. Her long black hair cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall, and a subtle, enigmatic smile graced her lips. She exuded a mature charm, like a perfectly ripened apple, alluring and fragrant.

The woman on the right looked to be in her early twenties, tall and slender, with delicate features that were marred by a hint of coldness. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, giving her a sharp, capable look. Like a rose with thorns.

After a moment, Hank spoke up. "Hi everyone, I'm Hank Fowler. Nice to meet you."

"I'm Luna Lovelace!" The curly-haired girl giggled, tilting her head as she looked at Hank. "You're really handsome, Hank!"

"I guess," Hank mumbled, rubbing his nose, a mix of emotions swirling within him. It was because he was too handsome that he'd been sentenced to 1,000 years of hard labor by the System! The thought still rankled.

"I'm Zara Vance," the long-haired woman said with a smile.

"Willow Frost," the ponytail woman added, her voice flat.

With introductions out of the way, Zara spoke up. "Now that we've been transported to the survival area, we need to face reality. The priority is to build a shelter."

"How do we do that?" Hank asked. Building a shelter wasn't easy, even a simple wooden hut required a lot of wood. And this island didn't exactly have a surplus of trees.

"It's simple," Zara said, a slight smile playing on her lips. She opened her backpack, took out a blueprint, and placed it on the ground.

Then, an astonishing scene unfolded.

The blueprint began to glow, emitting a soft, warm light like the first rays of dawn.

And from within that light, a simple thatched hut began to take form.

At first, its outline was blurry, like a phantom. But as time passed, the hut became clearer and clearer.

Finally, when the light faded completely, a real thatched hut stood before them.

It was simple and rustic, but it gave off a sense of peace and tranquility.

"Zara, how did you conjure up a hut?" Luna asked, her eyes wide with amazement.

Zara smiled. "That blueprint was for a thatched hut. Just place it on the ground, and it automatically generates one."

"That's incredible," Hank said, raising an eyebrow. He quickly opened his backpack and examined his own two blueprints.

One of them clearly depicted a thatched hut. The other showed a wooden fence.

"Zara, I'm a bit of a scaredy-cat," Luna said, looking at Zara with pleading eyes. "Can I build my hut next to yours? I'll feel safer with you around."

Zara smiled warmly. "Of course."

"Yay!" Luna cheered. She quickly took out her blueprint and placed it next to Zara's hut.

In moments, another hut sprung up.

Willow, after a brief look, placed her blueprint next to the two newly built huts.

Hank, following their example, walked up with his blueprint.

But just then, Willow's voice cut through the air. "You can't build your hut here!"