Luck opened the boxes.
The first item was a syringe. A serum that granted immunity to any deadly virus affecting mortals.
It was perfect for a world crawling with zombies. The idea of turning into one just because he got scratched by a bloody nail? No thanks.
Without hesitation, he injected himself. A brief warmth spread through his veins.
No flashy lights, no dramatic surge of power. Honestly, it felt like getting a regular flu shot. Disappointingly normal for something that could stop a zombie virus.
At the very least, he expected to start screaming in pain while his eyes turned red.
The second item was a small canister. The description stated that throwing it would call in an airstrike—a powerful attack from above. A must have weapon to turn the tide when surrounded by zombies.
’So there’s really gonna be a big wave, huh,’ he sighed
The system never gave out freebies without a reason.
If it thrust a literal bomb into his hands, it meant a storm was brewing.
Time was slipping through his fingers like sand in an hourglass. He had to gear up for the future.
’Think... how can I rake in more EC...’ He squeezed his eyes shut, drowning out the distant clamor outside, desperately seeking clarity.
Then it hit him—gold, diamonds, jewelry, all the shiny crap that meant nothing now.
He couldn’t stray too far from the motel, but that wasn’t a problem.
That’s what the others were for—extra hands, extra legs, and more importantly, extra pockets to loot with.
All he had to do was point, and they’d fetch it—like trained dogs chasing a stick.
’I’m really a genius. Loyalty’s easier to earn when people think you’re their only shot at surviving,’
Rising to his feet to check on the others, an object caught his attention: the logbook.
It felt like it had been silently waiting for him all this time, and only now did he realize he had almost forgotten it existed.
The mere sight of the cover and its familiar pages stirred a memory of Neve within him.
With a gentle touch, he approached and opened it slowly, his fingers brushing across the pages as he longed to see her handwriting once more.
[ Ice Control (Basic )]
[Allows manipulation of existing moisture to form ice base attacks. Scales with emotional focus and combat intent. Cold resistance increased slightly.]
"How is this possible?!" He jerked back like the screen just tried to bite him, eyes locked in disbelief.
[Owner, when Neve first wrote her name, a random skill was granted automatically. It was a minor skill, so no notification was needed.]
[Her new identity as the Snow Princess was registered as a different persona. This triggered a separate reward.]
"So... I can use her skill now?"
[Affirmative. However, your current mastery is at the basic level. To reach her proficiency—approximately peak Grandmaster—you will need to train and develop the skill over time.]
He half-expected that answer, but did not care.
What mattered now was that he could finally control an element, a feat that felt both exhilarating and surreal.
Strangely, his body seemed to act on instinct, as if it had been waiting for this moment.
Closing his eyes, he let the rest of his senses take over.
Soon, a soft, ethereal mist began to gather in his palm, swirling and curling delicately like the vaporous breath of a whisper on a chilly winter morning.
His fingers started to sting. Not painfully, but enough to notice. Like dipping a hand in ice water.
He flexed his fingers, watching with growing fascination as the milky vapor pooled briefly in his palm, then dispersed in pulses that matched the rhythm of his heartbeat.
’I need to test this,’
One hand hovered above the chipped wooden chair. The wood shivered beneath his palm, a faint crackle running through the grain.
He focused, narrowing his thoughts to a single directive: cold.
It was like flipping an invisible switch. Frost bloomed instantly along the chair’s seat, spiderwebbing outward in fractal tendrils.
The old wood compressed, contracting from the sudden cold, then gave a series of brittle snap.
Shards of frozen wood exploded to pieces.
Luck stared at the remains. He wasn’t sure what was more disturbing: the destructive potential, or how effortless it felt.
The only drawback? He had to touch what he wanted to freeze.
Luckily, this was not a challenge for him, given his own considerable speed.
With time to spare, he began practicing.
But it didn’t take long to notice the limits. At most, he could use the ability six times in a row before the dizziness kicked in. His stomach growled not long after, drained like he skipped a full day of meals.
"How did she manage to spawn all that ice?" he grunted, remembering how easy it looked for her.
Compared to that, he felt like someone trying to fill up an inflatable with a tiny straw—
He was trying to inflate a pool big enough for ten adults.
"System, what’s happening here?"
[Owner, you haven’t unlocked your energy channels yet. Until then, using Ice Control will drain your stamina and vitality instead.]
Luck groaned, flopping back on the floor like a dying fish.
"So I’m freezing stuff with my life force? Awesome. Just what I needed." His stomach growled again in protest.
"At this rate, I’ll be dead before I learn to make a proper ice cube."
He exhaled deeply. "By the way, how can I open my energy channel?"
[By acquiring a technique greater than Basic tier. Once learned, it will open your energy channel.]
Luck sighed. "Of course. Can’t just breathe hard and unlock it like in the movies."
[Reminder: Cheap techniques may open the channel, but progression will be slow. Higher-tier techniques offer faster growth, better efficiency, and reduced risk of death.]
"So I really got to cough up 1000 EC, huh? Shit... I’m broke,"
"It’s that damn 50% scam of yours that drained my stash."
[Correction: Limited-time discount. You accepted the terms.]
"Yeah, well, next time shove your terms in your ass"
He stood up, brushing the dust off his pants. The complaints were just him venting. EC could be earned.
If he managed to gather fifty people, that would be 500 EC a day.
’Okay... time to stop killing people and start being friendly,’
Truth be told, he only killed that last group because the system gave a warning.
Left to his own methods, he preferred tricking people into joining him. It was cleaner, and way more profitable.
Unfortunately, caution was still necessary.
Blessings were nice—but they weren’t bulletproof vests.
He tore off a chunk of the protein bar, chewing as he stepped through the doorway.
The taste was dry, slightly bitter, with a hint of artificial vanilla—like someone had mashed up cardboard and vitamins, then tried to fix it with fake sugar.
Outside, Yuna stood near the stairs with her arms crossed, bow resting against her shoulder.
"Boss, we’ve got more survivors outside," she reported.
"Are they hostile?" he inquired.
"No, we actually know them. We traded food with them before. Mostly high school kids. Not troublemakers."
They made their way to the watchtower.
Outside the walls stood six young people—three girls and three young men.
100 power stones reached. As promised, here’s the bonus Chapter.
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