As soon as I returned to the cabin, I locked the door behind me and stacked all of the junk back up. Somehow this netted me another level in the Fortification skill.
The second after I read the notification, I could see some weak spots in the way I arranged the bed frames and tables at the door. Someone who didn’t even have to know what they were doing could just crash the door open and the whole thing would fall like a tower of cards.
Even more worryingly, I became aware of a major weakness in my shoddy fortification of the cabin.
“The fucking windows,“ I cursed. “You’re dumber than a bag of rocks, Dee.”
The cabin windows, all wooden frame and single pane, were at least thirty years old. They didn’t offer much protection against their elements or burglars, and not against any monsters.
“I’ll put it on my damned to-do list, I guess."
This apocalypse stuff was beginning to be very labour-intensive.
I made my way to the couch and plopped down unceremoniously. Then I proceeded to have a nice, ugly cry. I let the feeling of hopelessness take me over completely.
“I could just give up,“ I said to nobody in particular.
The thought of giving up wasn’t that appealing and I knew I wasn’t that kind of person. And also, giving up wasn’t a part of the Plan. I had to keep up with the Plan.
The crying did make me feel a bit better, however. I poured myself a glass of water. I had to review the new information I gathered from my little yard adventure.
First of all, I was surrounded by these damned bushes. Thankfully, they didn’t seem to be very strong and they didn’t deal a lot of damage. Still, they could get me if I wasn’t careful and I could end up like that poor bunny. I shuddered at the mental image and moved on to the next thing.
My cabin was a little better than sleeping in a tent. A more motivated monster could easily get in here and I would be done for. But I had some ideas on how to go about making it a little safer. I’d probably have to shutter the windows. I’m sure there were some nails in the shed, but I’d be hard-pressed to find any planks lying around. This assumption could also be false as Grandpa was one of those people who would pick up a loose screw he’d found on the ground and bring it home. I didn’t know the full contents of the shed, other than the seeds and gardening tools.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, I guess. ”
Next, I learned, almost lethally, that wielding two weapons at a time is a truly dumb way to fight. Especially when the person wielding said two weapons at the time wasn’t particularly good at fighting with either of them. Apropos that, I had to figure out a way to make a better weapon.
Finally, I had to figure out a way to get power back on, or at least get some water. All the stress and sweating made me stink to the high heavens, and I wasn’t going to sacrifice any of the potable water I had for the cause. My vanity wasn’t that bad. Yet.
Sighing, I knew what had to be done first. I had to take care of the Vineslashers, as they were the most pressing issue on the list of my problems.
There was the spear problem though. I picked up the offending weapon and inspected the damage. The knife was still mostly attached to the broom handle, albeit at a wrong angle. There had to be a better way to keep it in place.
I looked around the cabin, but I knew I wouldn't find anything useful. All of the possible tools that I could use were in the shed in the back, and I couldn’t get to it without clearing the bushes first. It was a real chicken and egg situation, so I grabbed the roll of electrical tape, and put more layers around the knife. It would have to do.
Skill unlocked: Weapon repair, level 1
The notification made me pause. How did I gain these skills? And what were the recognised skills in the System’s database? After all, I did make myself a few sandwiches since I got the System and I didn’t get the cooking skill. Perhaps making sandwiches wasn’t actually cooking, but sandwich-making was too niche to be recognized as a skill.
Maybe there’s only so much you can learn about making sandwiches. But I have had some really bad sandwiches in my life.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Sandwich-making aside, it seemed that I had to put in a token effort at doing something, and I’d get the skill. It was simple enough, at face value and getting another level in Reinforcement was proof that upgrading the skill was helping me be better at it. To be fair, my previous experience in fortifying a log cabin against monsters was minimal, so it was no surprise that the learning curve seemed steep.
Aside from that bitter thought, the notification had helped me steel my resolve to follow The Plan. I was making some progress in this strange new world. A part of me still refused to believe that I hadn’t gone insane. Perhaps if I wasn’t alone and I had someone else going through the same thing alongside me, I would have accepted it more easily.
However, this thinking wasn’t getting me any closer to kicking some plant ass, so I pushed it aside for more useful things.
The clock on the cabin wall told me that I had several hours before nightfall. If I was quick enough, I could get rid of most of the Vineslashers, and leave a few for the morning.
“Wait a minute,” I said and shifted my focus to the clock. “Why is the clock still working?”
The other technology that is now completely useless was powered by electricity and to some extent digital. The clock was analogue. There were no chips or little electronic components in it. My theory about EMP being the cause of this failure was looking more promising.
Putting the thoughts of the effects of electromagnetic pulse on electronics aside, I changed out of my sweatpants into jeans. They were getting frayed from the vine thorns, and I hoped that the jeans would provide more protection as they were rather thick. I briefly contemplated having the hatchet hang from the belt loops on my jeans, but that idea had disaster written all over it. One nasty fall was all it would take for me to bleed out like nobody’s business.
I couldn’t just carry it in my hand again, alongside the spear. Deciding to just leave it behind, picked up my spear.
“I can’t put it off any longer. ”
I went through the motions of breaking down my barricade and checking if the air was clear before I made a beeline for the closest of two Vineslashers in front of the cabin. I didn’t wait for its creepy vine tentacles to come for me and I just started stabbing with my spear at its centre. Less than a minute later, the now-familiar green hue of a loot-able monster corpse and notification ding confirmed that the thing was dead. I got 10 EXP and some loot that I decided I’d inspect later, alongside the loot I got from the first bush I killed.
The plant’s dying shrieks were still ringing in my ears when I approached the second one. This one put up more of a fight than its comrade. Its vines wrapped around my legs and squeezed hard, the thorns digging into my thighs. Somehow I managed to stay on my feet, as I stabbed at the plant and soon it also died a screaming death.
I fell on the ground hard and stayed down. I was exhausted. I checked my HP and saw that this little altercation had shaved 6 HP off my total 30 points. I had to find a way to get my total HP up because if I messed up - which, let’s be honest, will happen - I was toast.
As if it was reading my thoughts, the System notification went off and let me know that due to my actions, I’ve earned an increase in an attribute, and added a +1 to my Constitution, raising it to 4. Consequently, my total HP grew by 10.
I got up from the dirt, feeling very much energized. I guessed that this particular stat was trained by getting hit a lot.
“Not something to look forward to,” I sighed and picked up my spear again.
The front of the cabin was now cleared from Vineslashers. Encouraged by the increase in my HP, I felt good about my odds of clearing the perimeter from these damned plants. I felt like I could safely attack two or three more before I had to retreat to heal.
With that thought, I confirmed that my spear was still in usable condition and moved to the side of the cabin with the well. I made short work of the two plants, only taking a few minutes to catch my breath and check for other threats between them. I was down 13 HP, which would take me about two hours to regenerate if my math was correct.
“You’re not so bad at this, Dee,“ I said to myself, almost cheerfully. It paid to be nice to yourself, especially when there was no one else around.
I made my way over to the corner of the cabin and gave a little peek to see what was waiting for me behind it.
“Well, fuck. ”
I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before when I was checking out the condition of the generator through the window, but to keep on the theme of being nice to myself, I have been going through some shit.
The plant behind the cabin was huge, at least three times as wide and twice as tall as the bushes I had taken down until that point. Instead of the three tentacles, it had eight, their thorns looking very sharp.
Vineslasher, level 4
The daddy of all the little Vineslashers, this monster controls the lesser versions of itself around it.
There was no way I was going against that thing with just my shitty spear. I had to change my strategy.
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Diana's CS
Name: Diana Mond
Age: 25
Class: N/A
Level: N/A (55/100 exp)
Strength: 3
Constitution: 4 (+1)
Intelligence: 4
Wisdom: 3
HP:27/40
Points to distribute: 0