"We're supposed to be a team," Hank Fowler said, his brow furrowing with a hint of annoyance. "Sticking together means we can help each other. Why can't I build here?"

Willow Frost's expression was as cold as a winter storm. "We're three women, and you're the only man. What if you get any funny ideas and try to sneak into our hut at night?"

"What? I'm not that kind of guy!" Hank felt a surge of indignation. He was a paragon of virtue, a man of unwavering righteousness! To be accused of being some kind of creep who'd try something like that was an insult to his very being.

Willow merely curled her lip. "You can't judge a book by its cover. How do we know what you're really like?"

Hank gave Willow a once-over, his gaze lingering just a tad too long for politeness. "Honestly," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "you really don't have to worry. Even if I was that desperate, you wouldn't exactly be my first choice."

"What did you say?" Willow's chest heaved, her eyes flashing with icy fury. She was used to being considered a great beauty. How dare this Hank treat her with such disdain?

"Oh, are we getting offended now?" Hank shot back. "You were pretty quick to dish it out a minute ago. Can't handle a taste of your own medicine?"

"You..." Willow sputtered, her jaw trembling. She looked like she was about to throw a punch.

Sensing the escalating tension, Zara Vance quickly interjected. "Hank, it really might be better if you built your shelter a little further away. It would just be more... comfortable for everyone."

"Fine," Hank huffed, turning on his heel. "I wouldn't want to cramp your style anyway." Some team they were. So much for sticking together.

As Hank stormed off, Luna Lovelace watched him go, a flicker of concern in her eyes. "Do you think we were too harsh on him?" she mumbled. "He might be really mad."

"Good riddance," Willow muttered, crossing her arms. "He was getting on my nerves anyway. Let's just focus on building our shelter."

Zara nodded, eager to change the subject. "Right. Let's get to work."

Having separated from the three women, Hank began to explore the island. If he was going to build a shelter, he needed to find the perfect spot.

After surveying the island for about fifteen minutes, he finally stopped in front of a massive boulder. Building a shelter next to a large rock wasn't usually the ideal choice, but this boulder had a unique feature: a small pool of water, about a foot (30.48 cm) in diameter, nestled beside it. The water was crystal clear, with tiny bubbles rising to the surface.

In any survival situation, water was the most precious resource. The system had only provided three bottles of water, which, even if rationed carefully, would only last a day or two. If this pool was drinkable, he wouldn't have to worry about water anymore.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

That was the big question, though. Was it safe to drink? What if it was poisonous?

As these thoughts raced through his mind, his gaze drifted to the pool. Suddenly, a voice echoed in his head.

[Don't worry, I'm perfectly pure. I'm even packed with minerals, totally up to drinking standards. Just a heads-up, though, I can only produce about ten bottles of water a day.]

"Perfect!" A grin spread across Hank's face. Ten bottles might not seem like much, but it was more than enough to meet his daily needs.

He pulled out the blueprint for the thatched hut, found a suitable spot, and placed it on the ground. With a flash of light, a modest dwelling materialized, about ten feet (3.05 meters) high, sixteen feet (4.88 meters) long, and eight feet (2.44 meters) wide. It was a simple structure, with the roof, walls, window frames, and even the door all made of thatch.

Hank stepped inside. Apart from the little pool, the hut was completely bare.

Just then, the hut's voice spoke in his mind. "I know I'm a bit basic, but I'm not completely useless. At least I can keep you out of the wind and rain. Plus, I can be upgraded! Just get me some more thatch, and I'll become sturdier. I can even make you a thatch mat, a thatch bed, a thatch table... Don't underestimate me!"

Hank's mind started racing. The hut was empty. Where was he supposed to sleep? On the ground? He needed a bed, or at least a mat.

But first things first. He needed to install the wooden fence and plant those seeds.

He exited the hut and pulled out the blueprint for the wooden fence. Another flash of light, and a three-foot (0.91-meter) high fence sprang up, encircling the hut. The shelter was starting to take shape.

Hank approached the fence, giving it a once-over before reaching out to touch it.

Suddenly, a voice shrieked in his head. "Have you finished your inspection? Can you not touch me? Don't you know I have a cleanliness issue?"

Hank paused, "...". So, the fence had a germ problem?

"Take your filthy hands off me! You're disgusting me!" the fence whined again, its voice filled with disgust and anger.

A mischievous glint sparkled in Hank's eyes. He pressed both hands against the fence and started rubbing vigorously.

"Noooo!" the fence wailed. "I'm not clean anymore! I want to die! Just destroy me already!!!"

"Learn some respect," Hank growled. "Or I'll keep touching you until you beg for mercy."

He then strode over to an empty patch of ground and, using the engineering shovel, began digging.

Soon, ten bowl-sized holes dotted the ground, each about eight inches (20.32 cm) apart, perfectly aligned. Hank had never farmed before, so he wasn't sure if the depth was right. He pulled out the bag of unknown seeds.

"Yo! This guy actually knows how to dig!"

"We're finally going to be buried."

"What are you so excited about? Look at those holes! They're at least twelve inches (30.48 cm) deep! Is he trying to bury us alive?"

"Yeah, two inches (5.08 cm) would have been enough. This guy really doesn't know what he's doing."

"He's obviously a newbie. Be grateful he even managed to dig holes. Don't expect too much."

Hank paused, a thoughtful expression on his face. He then grabbed the shovel and started filling in each hole until they were all about two inches (5.08 cm) deep.

"What's going on with this guy?"

"I'm starting to think he can actually hear us."

"That's impossible! I told you, only a god can do that!"

A sly smile crept onto Hank's face as he looked at the ten seeds. "I... am God!"

The ten seeds: "....."

Next Chapter Free on Patreon