The dinner was a sordid affair. He roasted the bits of meat, hoping it won’t give them some new diseases he’d have to go through or die from. His mana stopped replenishing soon after the first screen about needing nourishment for it appeared.
Eating could be death, but not eating meant he had no more mana, and that meant more certain death, so eating he would have to do.
The Goblin satisfied himself with the raw bits it stuffed in his mouth and lied down on the ground to sleep. He hoped it would go away on its own after eating but had no such luck. He was hopeful that the ‘No-harm’ clause of the Party screen he was shown would actually persist for some time and he would wake with limbs intact.
The kitten munched on some of the meat he prepared as a pang of guilt ran through him, but quickly subsided. It was a life and death situation, and this was hopefully a way to make amends with that. At least he won’t leave the small panther to die alone in the forngle, and that would have to do for now.
The meat tasted as bland as unseasoned dishes usually do, but he literally couldn’t complain, namely because there was no one to complain to.
He considered his options, going over what he had so far. His meal was barely filling, but it would have to do. His skills seemed to be rather defensive in nature, and his only option in the offence department was using a dagger he owned and was now left with a single spare unless the Goblin gave its back. By some miracle, he had survived one day, but his surroundings were unnaturally devoid on any major life form. Especially since it was nighttime, it was surprising that there were no distinguishable animal sounds around him.
Everything around him was just a mystery slowly getting larger and larger the more he learnt about where he was put. And he wasn’t even sure if that was the correct phrasing to use.
He eyed the mana bar on his left, that slowly started to climb up from the miserable 9 he had. Maybe sleeping would get it completely replenished.
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He wasn’t sure what he’s supposed to do here. The buzzing and whirring on the back of his head have yet to clue him on something concrete to go for.
He checked the Follower Count number, noting it had increased to a surprising 22 in the meantime, but thought not much of it. He was overwhelmed with a need to lie down and sleep, and he just sprawled across the dirt floor using the crumpled up backpack as a makeshift pillow.
His sleep was stopped sometime later by a screen floating in front of him and a pinging noise going out in his head. He stammered up to a seat, noticed that it was sometime in the early morning considering the colour of the sky above him, then focused on the screen.
[Congratulations! You’ve survived your first day! You’re in the top 68%!]
[Upgrades available for reaching follower threshold]
The ‘shop’ opened up, containing the sold-out backpack from yesterday, along with a new icon he could press to the right of it showing a wrapped up scroll. On the bottom was a text box saying “FREE!” with a smiley.
A sandwich plopped into existence, along with a piece of folded paper. He tucked the sandwich in the confines of the nether that was the Inventory and opened the paper.
It showed a crude map of his surrounding, completely blank on anywhere that wasn’t a few hundred meters around him. He was seemingly situated in the middle of a forest, or a jungle, the map didn’t say, and the only other landmark was the river that he was already following.
The map seemed to be oriented north-side-up, and the river was going eastwards.
On the eastern edge, a small arrow pointed outward with the tag ‘Objective’ on it. It seemed to be where he was needed to go. Or where someone wanted him to go. Either way, it was something and he needed a goal, so it would work.
He decided to follow the river for as long as it would take him in the right direction, then improvise along the way, as that would probably be the safest route.
The map dissolved into the ether, and a new icon next to the ‘Skills’ appeared, showing a crude mark and an X across it.
The mana bar showed to be full, so he at least had some rudimentary means of protecting himself.
He picked up the still sleeping cat and put it into the backpack, figuring that would be the easiest way to transport it, then kicked the Goblin on its shin to wake it up.
“We’re going,” he said and started trekking along the riverbank.
If he survived Day One, could he survive another?