Myles wanted to move closer to the vortex to see what truly lurked beyond the swirling mass, but his instinct warned him that it’s not the time.
His Perception only picked up fractured currents of energy inside that fluctuated wildly but nothing clear enough to tell if it was monster, human, or something entirely different.
In this new world, that uncertainty was usually dangerous.
Footsteps followed quietly behind him. Nadine’s voice broke the silence.
"What is that?"
Myles turned and saw that she had come alone. He gave the vortex one last glance before stepping back up toward the surface.
"I don’t know," he admitted. "And right now I don’t plan to find out."
Nadine’s gaze lingered on the vortex. She frowned. "Do you think a strong monster was inside?"
"Could be. But who knows." Myles forced himself to release the pull gnawing in his chest and the hunger to dive in to uncover its secrets. That could wait. "For now we need levels first. Let’s keep killing."
They returned to the shattered streets and the hunt resumed.
The hours bled together in a rhythm of fighting, scavenging food and clothes, and dragging supplies into the shadowed corners of ruined buildings.
By midday, the group finally rested and ate the foods they found while hidden in a half-collapsed office.
The new recruits sat close, still pale but they looked far steadier than before.
They glanced at each other. Their hands no longer tremble.
They all now had climbed to Level 3.
Myles studied them in silence. He gave a single nod to himself.
"They can be strong. They just need a push and they’ll adapt to this world. But they still haven’t seen a strong monster yet so their real strengths are not fully tested yet."
The thought faded as one of the recruits cleared his throat. The broad-shouldered man with the rusted machete raised a hand slightly.
"I... got something earlier. This text said it was a skill."
The five experienced survivors turned their heads immediately.
"What did you get?" Myles asked.
The man then called up his status window. A faint glow flickered on his vision as he read. After a few seconds, he spoke.
"It’s called Forgemind. Rank: F."
"Read the description," Myles said.
"Forgemind, Rank F. It grants the ability to sense structural flaws in weapons and crude materials. The user can reinforce or repair broken weapons temporarily and reforge basic equipment with scavenged scrap. Durability bonus: +10% to reforged weapons," the man explained.
A silence hung over the group. Even Ryan’s hollow stare seemed to sharpen.
Myles’s lips curved into a smile. "A crafting skill. It will be very useful for us."
"It’s not just that," the man added quickly, still reading the faint text hanging before his eyes. "It says I can upgrade this skill the more I use it and raise its rank."
That last piece of description lit up the eyes of not only the five experienced survivors but also the newer recruits.
Excitement stirred through the room like a spark catching dry leaves.
Everyone understood what that meant. There will be fewer broken weapons, the chance to repair and reforge their weapons, and eventually the possibility of creating better weapons and armor altogether.
They might not match the sharpness of Myles’s black blade but even crude reforged weapons would be far better than swinging junk that can easily break when they are in the middle of a fight.
"You got a nice skill, George!" the younger man said with a grin, patting the broad-shouldered man on the back.
For the first time since they had arrived in this nightmare, the group’s mood lifted.
Even Ryan’s hollow stare carried a faint glimmer of interest.
They finished their scavenged meal with more energy than before, determination hardening in their faces.
When they stepped back into the ruins of the streets, their blades moved with sharper intent.
The hunt resumed and blood painted the streets once more.
By the time they returned to the shattered university campus, the change was clear.
The new recruits had climbed to Level 5, Nadine and Victor stood at Level 9, Kade had reached Level 7 almost pushing into 8, Even Ryan who was in a depressed state had risen to Level 7 catching up to the others, Myles himself now stood at Level 16.
Their clothes were torn and their bodies streaked with blood and sweat, but their eyes shone brighter.
For the first time since the world had collapsed, these people carried themselves not just as survivors but something similar like maybe hunters.
The people crammed inside the hall turned their heads the moment Myles and the others returned.
Their eyes followed the blood-stained and steady steps of those who had gone out and come back alive.
No one dared to ask for food this time. Hunger pressed into their thin faces but silence held their mouths shut.
Myles knew they were starving. He didn’t even glance their way.
Mercy had no place here and thankfully, there were no children among them. If there had been, he might have faltered.
Maybe the children had already died. Maybe that was for the best in this kind of world. But he kept those thoughts locked inside his mind.
At least the water still ran in this building. No one knew how long the pipes would last before drying out but for now it was a blessing.
They washed themselves, scrubbing gore and sweat from their skin until the stench of blood faded and changed into the new clothes they scavenged.
Afterward, the survivors dispersed, each retreating to their chosen corner of the campus.
Some into empty classrooms, others back into the cracked hallways.
Myles sat in his classroom, wiping his blade clean in silence.
He could still feel the faint pull of the vortex deep below, calling to him like a whisper he wasn’t ready to answer.
Not yet.
They needed more strength. They needed to sharpen themselves into true hunters before facing what waited beyond. But he would surely go there.