Bai Mu pulled out his last pack of cigarettes from his pocket, moved a small stool over, sat under the eaves, lit a match, and took a deep drag.
In the concrete yard sat the armored vehicle, armed with steel plates and spikes, its plates stained with dark blood.
He silently stared at the steel beast before him; only looking at this vehicle that had been with him for so long brought him some comfort.
Hunger gripped his body; food was running low, though he still had a considerable amount of water, but water alone couldn't sustain a human.
He never imagined that after ten years of surviving the apocalypse, the greatest crisis wouldn't be the roaming zombies, but this drought.
Bai Mu exhaled a smoke ring, sat blankly for a while, then went inside to fetch the fuel
tank
. he'd converted into a war machine, and stuffed his machete, gun, and the last of his bullets into the passenger seat, along with his homemade incendiary bombs and improvised explosive devices.
Of course, he couldn't forget the old radio. Thankfully, it wasn't broken. He plugged in a cassette tape, tucked a childhood photo of himself and his grandmother into his pocket, played one of her favorite operas, and drove
the war machine away from him and his grandmother's home.
familiar old road. The village was silent and empty; he'd cleared out the zombies here ten years ago. Ten years ago, after many hardships, he returned to his hometown, only to be greeted by devastation.
Passing the wheat field at the village entrance, he burned paper money for the two small mounds—one large, where his grandmother was
buried
; were everywhere, and zombies with rotting flesh exposing their stark white bones crawled along the desolate highway.
Ten years ago, the zombies were all full of energy, comparable to sprinters, but now even they were old. The scorching sun had dried out their bodies, leaving them charred, emaciated, and resembling starving ghosts. Only a very small number of zombies still
retained the ability to run and walk; Bai Mu called them mutants.
sweltering as the huge red sun sank below the horizon.
The roar of engines attracted all the zombies and mutants in the surrounding area. These monsters were most sensitive to sound and smell; the slightest noise or a drop of blood would send them swarming like starving hyenas.
Bai Mu gripped the steering wheel with one hand and extended the barrel of his shotgun out the window with the other.
Any mutant that tried to approach was shot in the head, its dark gray brain matter splattering onto the road. The
nearby zombie horde wasn't too large; he could still break through.
He had been driving on the highway for days, and now, as evening fell, his mind was foggy.
He had stumbled into unfamiliar territory, surrounded by a horde of zombies and mutants.
He didn't know if he could break through the encirclement. At this point, he could no longer use bullets strategically; he could only fire
indiscriminately
. of zombies, flames turning blood red, accompanied by the hissing of the fuse, sending zombies flying.
An eyeball shattered against the car window with a thud, viscos liquid flowing with the wind.
His nostrils were filled with the stench of rotting corpses and burning gasoline; he was used to this smell, feeling nothing.
As the last rays of the setting sun faded, he reached for the passenger seat, then froze.
The seat was empty. He had finally reached the point of running out of ammunition and supplies.
The road ahead was blocked by abandoned cars; hundreds of vehicles had collided at the bend.
Drawn by the engine noise, zombies surged towards him like a tidal wave.
It was an expected ending; he had a premonition before setting off that this would likely be the final moment of his life.
In the dim world, listening to the dense footsteps behind him, Bai Mu recalled the days he rode on the back of his grandmother's tricycle to the market
. sky, counting the clouds.
Those carefree days were so nostalgic; he missed the scent of wheat fields and earth, the smell of ashes emanating from the earthen stove, and the wisps of smoke rising from chimneys under the golden sunset.
Those peaceful and stable days were gone forever; Bai Mu could only cherish them in his memories.
He slammed on the brakes, took out his crumpled cigarette case, lit the last cigarette, and took a deep drag with all his might.
Countless zombies surrounded the vehicle. A window rolled down, and a glowing cigarette butt sizzled in one zombie's eye. Bai Mu tore open the dial and lit a fuse.
Seconds later, a deafening roar erupted, and the entire vehicle exploded in smoke and flames.
The sun dipped below the horizon, and the world returned to silence.
...
[Body transfer in progress. Player's body severely damaged. Repair program initiated...]
[10%, 20%, 50%, 100%, Repair complete.]
[Player K8107, welcome to Endless Paradise.]
In the pitch-black world, a strange voice reached Bai Mu's ears—a neutral voice, devoid of emotion.
[Player detected as a first-time player. Randomly drawing a beginner's scenario.]
[Draw complete. You are currently playing Single Player Mode (Beginner).]
[Scenario Name: Desert Island Survival.]
[Current Script Danger Rating: F.]
[Script Synopsis Coming Soon.]
The pitch-black world suddenly lit up, and a movie-like scene appeared before Bai Mu's eyes.
It was a raging sea, a cruise ship bobbing in the waves like a leaf tossed about in a flood.
The salty smell of seawater and the cold sea breeze hit him in the face, thunder rumbled, and Bai Mu had the illusion of being on the high seas.
[This was supposed to be a happy and enjoyable sea voyage. A private cruise ship carried you to the azure sea. You could have a big party on the cruise ship, enjoy the sea breeze on the deck, and enjoy your vacation.]
[But a tsunami and typhoon struck. When you woke up, you found that the terrible natural disaster had washed you to a deserted island. The worst part was that you had nothing but a shirt and shorts on you. No cell phone, no internet, no food, no tools.]
[You couldn't contact anyone and could only survive like Robinson Crusoe on this isolated island, far removed from human society.]
[Main Mission: Survive for 30 days. ]
When the sound rang out, Bai Mu's eyes lit up, his senses returned to normal, and he could control his limbs freely again. First
, he felt the salty sea breeze. Before he lay the shimmering sea, the azure ocean rolling wave after wave, white foam churning at the shore.
Bright sunlight shone on the sea; he was standing on a beach, or more precisely, under a coconut tree.
Seagulls flew low overhead, waves crashed against the rocks, soaking his shoes. His toes felt cool, but the fine sand made his soles uncomfortable.
Hermit crabs crawled across the sand, the coconut leaves rustling. He looked down at his clothes—a brightly colored short-sleeved shirt and shorts
. in the tank—a bomb he'd prepared long ago. He should have perished in the explosion, taking a bunch of zombies with him. But when he awoke, he found himself on a...
well, a peaceful and beautiful beach.
Bai Mu scratched his head. He'd heard those strange voices and understood the meaning of their words.
But it was all too unbelievable, too far-fetched to accept.
He found his body had become younger; he was back to his peak condition. should have been there were gone. He was in exceptionally good shape.
In any case, he was alive.
A magical and incomprehensible force had brought him to this island and allowed him to survive.
It felt like a dream, a real dream.
In the dream, a voice told him he was playing a game, the game of surviving on a deserted island for 30 days.
What was on this deserted island?
Were there zombies?
It didn't seem like there were.
Bai Mu looked at the lush trees and the birds leaping among them, and a long-lost sense of relaxation washed over him. He
'd almost forgotten when he'd last seen a live bird; it had been so long since he'd felt such vibrant life.
casually climbed a coconut tree and knocked down a few plump coconuts.
As he picked one up, text suddenly appeared before his eyes.
[Name: Fresh Coconut]
[Type: Plant]
[Quality: Common]
[Note: Coconut trees are known as the Tree of Life in many places. It is said that in a faraway land, a strange coconut juice drink is popular. Before drinking it, people there would strike a strange pose, considered a prayer to the coconut god.]
Bai Mu took a few seconds to process and read the text. He wasn't an expert in games, but he knew this kind of item description was common in video games.
"So, can I glean some useful information just by looking at it?" Bai Mu pondered, holding the coconut. "This seems quite useful." "Besides coconuts, do other things also have written descriptions?"
Bai Mu picked up a hermit crab from the beach. Startled, the hermit crab retreated into its shell. Bai Mu observed it closely, and more text appeared.
[Name: Hermit Crab]
[Type: Arthropod]
[Quality: Common] [Note:
Given
that this hermit crab is grayish-white and its left claw is slightly larger than its right, please determine the species and location of the hermit crab based on the given information. No prize for a correct answer.]
When he shifted his gaze elsewhere, the text disappeared. He put down the hermit crab and picked up a rock from the beach.
[Name: Rock]
[Type: Item]
[Quality: Common]
[Note: An ordinary rock. If it were a bit larger, it would be perfect for weighing down a kimchi jar.]
...
After a few minutes, Bai Mu conducted some tests.
He believed this was a unique ability possessed by the "players" group.
As long as he grasped an object and concentrated, he could see similar descriptions.
He felt he had completely figured it out. As a survivor who had lived in the apocalypse for ten years, his adaptability was strong. A crucial factor in his survival was that he rarely asked "why" and spent more time thinking about "how."
Holding a freshly picked green coconut, Bai Mu went to a shady corner and forcefully smashed the coconut against a rock twice. Then, following the crack, he broke the green coconut open with his bare hands.
He gulped down the clear, sweet coconut juice, scooping out the coconut meat while watching the sea and listening to the waves.
The cool coconut juice moistened his throat, and the natural plant aroma made him feel a surge of vitality.
After enjoying this natural green coconut, Bai Mu stood up, stretched, and did some stretching exercises.
He faced the sea, gazing at the horizon.
As an inlander, he had never had the opportunity to go to the seaside. His family was very poor, and he relied on government loans to attend university. But before he finished university, the apocalypse arrived.
"This must be the first time in my life I've ever seen the sea with my own eyes."
His exposed arms and thighs didn't have particularly defined muscles, but his body was very strong, thanks to his daily work and exercise.
He was confident he wouldn't lose to any bodybuilder as strong as a bullfrog.
Fighting zombies and mutants wasn't enough with just guns and machetes; a sufficiently strong body was crucial.
After a short warm-up, Bai Mu suddenly wondered if he could use that "special ability" to observe himself.
"Let's try it." Bai Mu looked at his hands and focused his mind.
A panel appeared before his eyes:
[Player Name: Bai Mu]
[Sequence: K8107]
[Rank: F]
[Title: Vacant]
[Occupation: Not Obtained]
[Bloodline: Not Obtained]
[Points: 0]
[Health: 100%]
[Stamina: 99%]
[Strength: 16]
[Spirit: 20]
[Agility: 14]
[Passive Skills: Automotive Repair Proficiency, Firearms Proficiency, Hand-to-Hand Combat Proficiency, Incendiary Bomb Making Proficiency, Bomb Making Proficiency...]
[Active Skills: Vacant]
Bai Mu saw his stats directly for the first time, a rather novel experience. There were over a dozen passive skills, but he didn't click on them one by one.
He knew exactly what abilities he possessed. In the ten years he had survived alone in the apocalypse, he had faced various emergencies. Besides working, he
spent his time alone reading and studying. He had dabbled in all sorts of books—medicine, agriculture, electrical repair, automotive repair, and so on.
He hadn't expected to accumulate so many skills over time.
What kind of person would he have become if there hadn't been an apocalypse?
Bai Mu missed the world before the end of the world. Come to think of it, when he was little, he seemed to have told his grandmother that he wanted to be a policeman when he grew up.
With a slight sigh, he closed the control panel and looked up at the sky.
Judging from the sun's position, it was probably noon; it would be dark in about six hours.
"There are coconut trees, so at least we don't need to worry too much about drinking water."
"This island seems to have a rich ecosystem, so food shouldn't be scarce. We can always go fishing."
"What I should worry about most are the other animals on the island."
"I wonder if there are any primitive tribes or wild beasts."
"Let's find a good vantage point to observe the island first, and find a place to sleep and rest before dark. It would be best if we could also make some tools and weapons."
Having made his plans, Bai Mu headed for higher ground.
He rubbed a handful of sand in his hands and began to climb the rocks with his bare hands.
This wasn't difficult for him. To kill the mutants near the village, he had once climbed a twenty-story unfinished construction site with his bare hands, finally shooting one in the head in the mutant's blind spot.
A dozen minutes later, he reached the highest point of the island.
The view was unobstructed; it was a very small island, floating alone on the sea like a leaf.
Bai Mu had excellent eyesight; he could see very far, and under a cloudless night sky, he could see many stars invisible to ordinary people.
The island's vegetation was fairly lush, but there weren't any particularly tall trees or thickets. Apart from coconut trees, most of the vegetation consisted of low shrubs, offering little cover.
He found no trace of human activity, nor any signs of wild animals.
Island islands generally don't have apex predators like tigers or leopards; the resources of a small island wouldn't be enough to support such predators.
He only saw a bird resembling a pheasant to his right, along with unidentified insects and hermit crabs crawling on the beach.
He remembered the unfamiliar voice rating the danger level of this scenario as F, specifically emphasizing that it was a beginner's scenario. If the danger level was ranked from highest to lowest as A, B, C, D, E, F, then F was the lowest level.
In other words, baby difficulty.
"Just in case, I should remain vigilant."
After observing the general layout of the island, Bai Mu quickly identified his target.
He went to the west, broke off a branch from a shrub, and using sharp pebbles to peel strips of supple bark, crafting three simple stone spears and two small stone daggers.
[Name: Handmade Stone Spear]
[Type: Item]
[Quality: Common]
[Note: The first step to becoming a caveman is entering the Stone Age.]
...
[Name: Handmade Stone Knife]
[Type: Item]
[Quality: Common]
[Note: Archaeological research has determined that this stone knife was made three minutes ago.]
Bai Mu tied the three stone spears to his left waist with bark, tucked the two small stone knives into his shorts pocket, and silently walked towards the south of the island.
He left no trace in the jungle, as if he had completely vanished from the island.-+ Bai Mu lay in wait in the bushes, his eyes fixed on the wild bird in the distance.
It was clearly a chocobo, its wings short and small, incapable of flight, its feathers grayish-brown, much larger than a domestic chicken, and its legs strong and powerful.
This was excellent food; killing just one would mean he wouldn't need to search for food to replenish his energy for the rest of the day or even tomorrow.
With enough food to fill his stomach, he could work with peace of mind, so he immediately came to hunt this unknown island chocobo.
He was absolutely certain that this bird, with its dull color, was edible, and most likely tasted quite good.
From his observations from the high point, this bird was at the top of the island's food chain; there were no larger creatures. There were about fifteen to twenty wild birds scattered throughout the island.
If he could hunt one a day, he could survive most of the thirty days on the deserted island, and even if he ate sparingly, surviving for thirty days wouldn't be difficult.
He couldn't help but marvel at the abundance of resources here. Freshwater came from coconuts, and food consisted of wildfowl, sea fish, and shellfish. Since the world he knew had fallen into chaos, this was the first time he had survived in such a resource-rich environment.
Compared to that ravaged world teeming with monsters, this small island alone in the ocean was practically paradise.
However, even in this "paradise," he had to solve the problem of dinner first.
Bai Mu held his breath and drew a stone spear from his waist.
The wildfowl was completely unaware of Bai Mu's arrival, still foolishly pecking at insects.
It had no sense of danger; on this island, it was at the top of the food chain, and no other creature had ever threatened its position.
It didn't realize that an invasive species had entered its beautiful home and intended to devour it for the night.
In a corner unseen by the wildfowl, Bai Mu bent slightly, his muscles tensing.
He resembled a longbow poised to be drawn, his hands the bowstrings, immense power gathering within his seemingly unremarkable body.
Sensing the wind direction, Bai Mu took a step forward and hurled the stone spear.
The spear trembled violently, its shaft vibrating rapidly through the air with lightning speed.
In the next instant, the spearhead pierced the wild bird's neck, propelling its half-meter-tall body forward.
The wild bird didn't even have time to utter a cry before its long neck snapped with immense force, its head lolling to one side as it fell onto the yellowish-brown ground.
Its muscles were still twitching, its legs flailing wildly, but its neck was already pinned to the earth by the spear; it was beyond dead.
Bai Mu emerged from the bushes. The stone spear was shattered, cracks appearing at the tip. The wild bird had been killed less by the spear and more by the impact of the stone.
Bai Mu grabbed the wild bird by the neck and lifted it up. He examined it closely, and more characters appeared.
[Name: The Dead Guam Rail]
[Type: Bird]
[Quality: Common]
[Note: The tragedy of the Guam Rail was not directly caused by human hunting, but stemmed from an invasive species. A snake called the brown tree snake arrived in Guam via cargo transport, multiplied rapidly in its territory without natural predators, and devoured all the Guam Rail eggs. Surprisingly
, on this remote island, a small number of Guam Rails still lived happily ever after.] Bai Mu was certain that before today, he knew nothing about Guam Rails, but after his hunt, he had obtained very comprehensive information.
"This ability is really good."
"However, the description of this chicken seems to be more detailed, because it is an important resource in this survival game?"
Bai Mu covered his hunting tracks with soil and carried his prey towards the shelter he had previously chosen.
"After all, not every item in a game has a description. Usually, only useful items have detailed descriptions. Since this is a survival game, it's only natural that the Guam rail, which can be used as food on the island, should have a lot of background information."
Bai Mu carefully considered the rules. He didn't dwell too much on unimportant things. Instead of thinking about where he came from and where he was going, he was thinking about what to eat for dinner and where to sleep.
With food and fresh water issues resolved, his most important task now was to prepare a safe place to spend the night. For
humans to survive, they only need two things: to eat well and to sleep well.
He needed a place where he could rest peacefully and recover his strength, or rather, a safe place to rest.
He wasn't a novice when it came to wilderness survival; he knew exactly what he needed.
When the apocalypse first came, he was in a densely populated university town.
To return to his hometown, he fought his way out of that zombie-infested city and even modified that imported off-road vehicle himself. On his way home, he experienced a lot. Surviving alone in a post-apocalyptic world was much more difficult than surviving on a deserted island.
—Bai
Mu chose a clearing near a coconut grove, with a small rocky hill behind him, coconut palms to the west, and bushes to the east.
The open space allowed him to receive sunlight and observe the sea, while also being close to timber and beach resources.
He chose a location away from the tide line, having previously observed the positions of tidal debris on the beach to ensure he wouldn't be submerged at high tide.
Ideally, a natural cave would be the best shelter, but he couldn't find such a sturdy place, so this clearing was a compromise.
The coconut palms and bushes would shield him from storms, and he could see if any ships were passing by.
He secretly hoped a ship would pass by; according to the script synopsis he received, before being stranded on the deserted island, he should have been vacationing on a cruise ship, suggesting a normal world without zombies or an apocalypse.
Of course, it wasn't impossible that it was just background setting, and he might simply be in a closed box containing only this deserted island and the vast sea—after all, it all seemed too much like a pre-programmed "canned game."
If he tried to build a raft and drift out to sea, he might encounter an invisible wall a few hundred meters away, reaching the "edge of the world."
Who knows?
Unbelievable, unpredictable things—Bai Mu had seen far too many.
Having survived the apocalypse for ten years, he was used to everything. He only knew that he had survived again.
Finding a way to live—that was what he had always been doing.-+ Before sunset, Bai Mu built himself a simple hut using weeds, palm leaves, and driftwood he'd gathered from the beach.
The triangular hut resembled a primitive tent.
He laid dry grass on the ground and used a suitably sized stone as a pillow.
He also collected firewood—dry wood and dead branches readily available on the ground.
Around the hut, he made several simple trigger traps and "alarms" out of vines, bark, and brittle branches; he could hear anything approaching.
He was very handy; given the right tools—an axe, saw, and shovel—he could build a small, single-person cabin in three days, and even make stools and tables.
He'd modified his grandmother's old house and even modified a tank; he could tinker with electrical wiring and solar panels—after all, for those ten years, he had only himself to rely on.
Without learning these skills, the leaky roof would never be patched, he would never have electricity, and his tank would never be able to run.
He understood long ago that the only person you can truly rely on in this world is yourself; never place your hopes on others.
At dusk, Bai Mu finished what he considered his work for the day and began to observe his afternoon's masterpiece.
[Name: Simple Straw Tent]
[Type: Building]
[Quality: Ordinary]
[Note: If the cavemen had learned to make straw tents, they might have to be renamed the Empty Tent People.]
Bai Mu was quite satisfied with what he had accomplished in an afternoon.
He sat down and used selected dry branches to start a fire. The kindling was the fuzz inside a dried coconut shell, which contained a little coconut oil—perfect for starting a fire.
A moment later, the coconut shell fuzz ignited.
A tiny spark flew, and the fuzz first emitted a little black smoke, then flames appeared.
Bai Mu added wood, and a small fire easily started.
The Guam rail had also been bled. Bai Mu dug a small pit under the rail's head and used a forked branch stuck in the ground to hang the entire rail upside down.
While still in elementary school, he learned to bleed chickens under his grandmother's tutelage. The key was to make a deep incision in the chicken's throat, where the carotid artery was located, allowing the blood to flow out properly.
After taking the Guam rail off its body, Bai Mu, holding his small stone knife, slowly gutted it along its vent.
He had already sharpened the stone knife, making it more than enough to cut open the chicken's belly, but he controlled his strength, only making a shallow incision to cut through the skin and peritoneum. If
he used too much force and cut open the intestines as well, the sight would be rather "aesthetically pleasing."
After cutting open the chicken's belly, Bai Mu reached his right hand through the incision at the chicken's neck and removed the chicken's internal organs, placing them on a nearby leaf.
Without a stable source of fresh water, processing the chicken intestines was too troublesome, so he discarded them into the mud pit soaked with chicken blood and buried them.
After a busy afternoon, he felt a bit hungry, so he rinsed himself with coconut water, quickly grilled two skewers of chicken giblets to tide him over.
Then he wrapped the whole chicken in damp mud and leaves, buried it in the fire, and covered the mud ball with embers and charcoal.
This was how beggar's chicken was made; he didn't have a container or fresh water to scald the chicken's feathers, and this roasting method made it easy to remove the feathers stuck in the mud.
After roasting for about an hour, the chicken would be ready to eat.
Actually, Bai Mu could eat it raw, but this island was too peaceful, so peaceful that he wanted to make the food more refined.
He hadn't eaten chicken in a long time, and having finally caught a wild pheasant, he certainly didn't want to waste it.
The sun dipped below the horizon, and Bai Mu sat in front of his thatched tent, waiting for his dinner to cook.
The clouds and sky turned a fiery red, a gentle breeze blew, and he could hear the cries of seagulls and the rhythmic sound of the waves.
The sea, reflecting the setting sun like a golden mirror, brought Bai Mu a sense of peace.
There were no crawling, rotting zombies, no strangely behaving mutants, and plenty of water and food.
"Surviving in a place like this for thirty days would be amazing," Bai Mu remarked.
This "Endless Paradise" truly lived up to its name; it was a paradise.
He relaxed slightly, exhaled deeply, and lay down.
Night fell, and the brilliant Milky Way stretched across the darkness.
Bai Mu poked the charred mud ball out of the fire and smashed it open with a stone.
The aroma of meat and oil wafted out. Peeling back the mud shell, he tore off a chicken leg, the overflowing oil even dripping onto the ground.
Because Bai Mu had washed the moorhen with coconut water, it also had a unique coconut fragrance.
He eagerly took a big bite. Even without much seasoning, it was still delicious; the chicken was tender and smooth, very different from domestic chicken.
He devoured the roasted chicken, and in no time, the entire moorhen was reduced to bones.
Bai Mu patted his belly, still feeling a bit unsatisfied.
He could have grilled another one, but it was already dark, and he'd replenished his energy for the day; there was no need to do anything extra.
After gazing at the night sky for a while, Bai Mu lay down to rest.
He wasn't fully asleep, but in a light sleep.
This was a skill he'd honed after the apocalypse; the slightest noise outside would instantly wake him.
This skill had saved his life; several intelligent mutants had tried to attack him at night, but he and Da Huang had detected them all.
The most dangerous time, and also the one when he was least prepared, involved him directly engaging in hand-to-hand combat with the mutant. Luckily, he carried a weapon, kicking the mutant away and blowing its head off with a shotgun; otherwise, he might have truly died that night.
Even on this peaceful deserted island, which he had scouted during the day, Bai Mu still clutched his stone spear, the stone beneath his head serving as a weapon in a pinch.
He maintained his habitual vigilance, a trait honed over many years. The good news was that nothing happened that night; his worries seemed unnecessary. No monsters or wild beasts attacked, and there were hardly any mosquitoes on the island.
He spent his first day like a leisurely outing.
The next day, Bai Mu went to the beach.
He took off his clothes, grabbed his stone spear, and with a splash, plunged into the sea, diving underwater.
He fished in the shallows, quickly and accurately catching three fish and throwing them onto the beach:
two mullet and a grouper near the rocks.
[Name: Mullet]
[Type: Fish]
[Quality: Common]
[Note: A high-quality economic fish found in the upper layers of warm-temperate shallow seas.]
...
[Name: Grouper]
[Type: Fish]
[Quality: Common]
[Note: A low-fat, high-protein edible fish, often called "sea chicken meat."]
After solving his lunch problem, he further upgraded his shelter, reinforcing it with stones and wood.
Besides coconut water, he found another source of fresh water, which wasn't difficult to find; he just needed to follow the Guam rails to find their water source.
Near the north, in a small thicket, there was a small freshwater lake, fed by water flowing down from a rocky mountain. He caught another rail and took it back with him. That noon he enjoyed grilled fish, and that evening he had rails.
On the third day, he dried seawater to make coarse sea salt and dug up wild taro. He began making pickled fish and meat for himself, stockpiling wood, and to his surprise, he found a considerable amount of "marine trash" on the eastern beach.
Some plastic bags and bottles made excellent water containers.
By the fourth day, he had his own pot; he found a concave stone on the beach, perfect for use.
That evening, a smoked fish rack appeared in front of his reinforced tent, with six smoked fish hanging on it.
Near his tent, he built a small fishing trap using stones, plastic bags, and branches.
The fishy smell of chicken giblets was perfect bait; at high tide, the fish would feed inside the trap, and when the tide receded, they would find themselves trapped on the shore, waiting for Bai Mu to collect them.
The sunset on the fourth day was still beautiful.
Five plastic bottles filled with fresh water were neatly arranged inside the tent. Besides them, there were several green coconuts, two bound but unkilled moorhens, a row of stone spears, and a small plastic bag of sea salt hanging up.
"Isn't this a vacation?"
Bai Mu, sitting on the hay, cooking soup with taro, fish, and chicken, sighed again.
He felt like he had nothing left to do. He had explored the entire desert island, and the remaining twenty-six days seemed destined for nothing more than idleness.
It wasn't so bad, though; he had spent many years like this.
He wondered what would happen after thirty days.
He sipped his delicious fish, moorhen, and taro soup, contemplating the future.
He spent ten leisurely and peaceful days on the island, with ample supplies and plenty to eat and drink.
On the eleventh day, the clear weather suddenly turned gloomy.
A torrential downpour swept in, and Bai Mu huddled idly in his tent.
The rain couldn't get in; he had chosen a good spot where no water would accumulate.
He didn't need to brave the torrential rain to find food outside. The fish he'd smoked over the past ten days, the coconuts he'd picked, and the fresh water he'd stored were enough to last him the rest of the time.
The torrential rain lasted for four days, with dark clouds obscuring the sky and the sea, accompanied by flashes of lightning and deafening thunder.
But for Bai Mu, it had almost no effect. He played with the chickens in his tent. He had a rooster and a hen of rails to keep them company, and he had prepared some grass and insect feed, storing them in plastic bottles.
On the twelfth day, the hen even laid an egg.
Bai Mu didn't fry or eat the egg. He figured that Guam rails were a protected species, and it would be a waste to eat them to extinction.
Anyway, he would most likely leave this island in thirty days. It would be nice to have one or two as a treat if he craved them, but there was no need to eat too many.
Having survived the apocalypse for ten years, he understood the preciousness of life and species better than anyone.
He loved living things; they were much more appealing than rotting, ugly, and biting zombies.
He didn't want to see this island become desolate and ruined. This place was beautiful; he liked it here, and he didn't lack food.
On the fifteenth day, the storm finally subsided, and the sky cleared.
Bai Mu came out of the tent after a long absence and stretched.
But his hands suddenly stopped; something unexpected appeared in his field of vision.
If he wasn't mistaken, it was a small, stranded cruise ship.
It was the one he had seen at the very beginning; it seemed to have been washed ashore by the sea and lay there quietly.-+ Look what I found—a stranded cruise ship.
It seems the storm washed that lost ship ashore.
It's as if it was orchestrated; the nearly five-day downpour was an ordeal, and as the game designers, at the point after the storm, they naturally had to provide players with something as a reward for surviving it.
Judging by the game's logic, this cruise ship is that reward; otherwise, the probability of a sunken ship being washed ashore by the heavy rain is too small.
Bai Mu became interested in the arrival of this cruise ship. A modern cruise ship could have many useful items on board; even a piece of iron is rare on this island far removed from industrial development.
Perhaps he could find other useful things, like a magazine featuring beautiful women, or some seasonings that hadn't been soaked by seawater.
That stranded cruise ship was undoubtedly a treasure trove waiting to be discovered.
Bai Mu took his tools and went to the bow.
The ship wasn't large; it looked as if someone had picked it up and then planted it at an angle in the water, with only the bow above the surface.
Because the ship was aground, it was high above the water. Bai Mu looked around to both sides but found nothing to grab onto.
This didn't deter him. He crisscrossed the vines he had collected earlier into a stronger rope, tying a stone to the end.
Standing on the bank, like a lassoing cowboy, he twirled the rope in his hand, aiming at the iron railing at the edge of the cruise ship. He aimed carefully and threw the stone with a long throw.
The stone, carrying the rope, flew up at a very tricky angle, hitting the railing and then weaving through the gaps, wrapping around several times.
Bai Mu pulled hard on the rope to make sure it held him up, then climbed up the ship's walls, landing on the sloping bow.
He quickly scanned the area, sniffing the air; there was no nauseating stench of decay. After searching, he found no corpses or remains on the ship.
He entered the room at the bow, which he guessed was the captain's cabin.
Inside the room, he found a sealed liquor cabinet filled with foreign liquors that Bai Mu couldn't identify. The cabinet was locked tightly, and the bottles were secured with a special mechanism.
Unable to find the key, Bai Mu simply smashed the glass cabinet open with a chair. Due to the rough handling, he lost two bottles, releasing a rich aroma with a hint of smokiness.
On the ship, Bai Mu found a waterproof tarpaulin, placed it on the ground, and threw the bottles onto it.
He collected some sharp metal pieces, along with a soaking wet photo magazine from the captain's drawer. Although Bai Mu couldn't read the foreign language, he could appreciate the pictures.
Looking at beautiful women was quite relaxing and could lift his spirits when he was bored.
By the time the sun was high in the sky, Bai Mu had searched every possible place.
He didn't risk sneaking into the leaky stern; the chances of finding anything valuable there were slim, and it was dark and dangerous. He didn't want to risk getting cut by a rusty metal piece and getting an infection—it would be a huge loss.
Leaning against the railing, Bai Mu tallied his loot. Besides the items from the captain's cabin, he found two unopened packs of cigarettes, a fruit knife, two cans of tomatoes and one can of luncheon meat, two sets of spare sailor's clothes, some metal sheets and containers, and a toolbox containing wrenches, screwdrivers, and other repair tools.
In his hand, Bai Mu held a black radio device. It appeared intact, but it was unusable.
[Name: Malfunctioning Ship's Walkie-Talkie]
[Type: Item]
[Quality: Common]
[Note: A handheld walkie-talkie malfunctioning due to seawater corrosion; it's now scrap.]
Bai Mu put it in his pocket. He knew some radio repair; during his ten years of survival in the apocalypse, he would try to contact other survivors using the radio at fixed times.
Unfortunately, no one responded to him on the channel. When he finally learned how to use the radio, all he heard was static.
If he could repair this radio, he might have a tiny chance of contacting human society.
However, the premise was that he wasn't in a "closed box." Whether he was or not, he wanted to try.
On one hand, he really wanted to communicate with normal people; on the other hand, he wanted to test this "survival game," to see what he could possibly accomplish on this deserted island.
He packed everything up, strapped it to his back, and climbed down the rope, bringing a large amount of stuff back to the tent.
Food, water, and shelter—he was saturated with these three issues in the first three days.
Without needing to worry about survival, he used his spare time to repair the radio.
In a sunny, dry open area, he carefully disassembled the radio's casing with a screwdriver and a small metal piece.
The internal condition was worse than he had expected; the circuit board was covered in white scale and green rust. The radio had been submerged in seawater for over ten days and looked almost unusable.
But he didn't give up. Since he was well-fed and watered and had nothing else to do, he might as well find something to do.
He placed the circuit board in a dry place to air dry and lit a fire in front of the tent.
He opened a can of tomatoes, poured them over the smoked fish he had made earlier, and simply finished his lunch.
After cleaning the palm-sized tin can with fresh water from a plastic bottle, he started thinking about how to purify his own alcohol.
Professional repairmen usually use 99% isopropyl alcohol to wipe circuit boards to remove moisture and dry them, but it was impossible to get his hands on that stuff on a deserted island, so he had to distill it himself.
Before distilling, he covered his mouth and nose with a soaked shirt.
Ethanol vapor is highly explosive. Fermented wines also contain methanol and fusel oils, which have even lower boiling points than ethanol.
Ingesting concentrated methanol can, in the worst cases, lead to blindness, organ failure, or even death.
Industrial distillation has strict processes to remove the "heads," but Bai Mu's conditions clearly didn't allow for such sophisticated operations. Therefore, he had to cover his mouth and nose to prevent poisoning.
He built a small platform with stones and placed the empty cans securely on it.
The torn can shells served as perfect condenser lids.
After ensuring all the distillation equipment was ready, he took some charcoal from the nearby fire and started a small fire.
He poured the spirits into the cans, carefully controlling the heat to prevent the liquid from boiling. The heat control was crucial; boiling would release too much steam, affecting the purity.
At the same time, he also used cold water to cool the condenser lids, allowing the alcohol vapor to condense into liquid.
Soon, liquid precipitated on the condenser lids. Bai Mu tilted the lids and collected the liquid in another glass.
After working intently and meticulously for a long time, he finally collected a small cup of purified alcohol.
Before dark, Bai Mu used chicken bones and soft coconut fuzz to make a small brush.
He sat cross-legged under the tent, carefully dipping the brush in the alcohol and wiping the corrosion spots on the circuit board, especially the battery compartment and button contacts—critical parts.
As the ethanol evaporates, it carries away most of the moisture and salt. If the corrosion isn't severe and the repair is timely, the radio can usually be restarted once it's completely dry.
But clearly, for this radio, it was far from usable.
Bai Mu guarded the circuit board, and before nightfall, he put it back into the tent.
The next day arrived quickly, and Bai Mu went up to the deck again, ready to try his luck and pull off a big heist.
If it failed, there was no loss; if it succeeded, there would be a reward—why not?-+ Bai Mu found the captain's cabin. Holding a smooth pebble, he violently smashed open the equipment.
With a crash, the glass on the dashboard shattered, exposing red, green, and black electrical wires from the metal frames.
He obviously didn't understand what these wires were for; he was completely clueless about the equipment a cruise ship should have. However, he did know one thing:
all electrically powered machinery shares some commonalities.
Materials and parts can often be adapted to other machines.
As a man who had survived the apocalypse for ten years, Bai Mu had long understood this principle:
if it works, it's good.
Many things don't need to be extremely precise.
It's not like building a rocket; good enough is good enough.
He took his emptied toolbox and tore off the electrical wires, collecting the various parts, large and small.
His busy figure resembled that of a professional scrap collector.
During this process, he discovered a machine that appeared to be a fixed radio. This thing looked much more advanced than the basic radios he had studied before. The buttons were complex, and there were more than ten instrument panels. The labels and markings on the buttons and markings were all in foreign languages, and he couldn't guess what they meant.
His special ability to see text descriptions only told him that it was "abandoned shipboard equipment," with the description simply stating, "Broken shipboard equipment, no longer usable."
The only thing he could understand was a large, conspicuous red button
labeled "DISTRESS." This button should have been sealed, but Bai Mu found fragments of glass around it, indicating that someone had smashed it open and pressed it.
It looked like an emergency alarm button, but like the other machines, this device had been soaked in seawater and was no longer usable. Bai Mu pressed it several times, but it didn't respond at all.
Most of its parts were corroded by seawater. Without any pity, Bai Mu smashed it open and removed all the circuit boards, screws, and copper wires inside, putting them into his tool bag.
An inexperienced person could easily cut themselves and waste a lot of time.
But by the time Bai Mu had finished looting the captain's cabin, the sun was still low in the sky.
He had done this kind of work countless times in the years leading up to the apocalypse.
He carried the metal parts and materials to his tent in batches, and spent the rest of the time using pliers, scissors, and screwdrivers to disassemble the copper wires and components.
By evening, he had sorted and packed everything usable.
He grilled two smoked fish for dinner and went to sleep.
On the seventeenth day, he took out the dried walkie-talkie circuit board and tried to repair it.
He brushed away all the rust and scale from the circuit board, and salvaged usable small parts from other circuit boards, using copper wire to reconnect broken circuits, working intently by himself.
The good news was that the walkie-talkie battery was usable.
He patiently tried again and again, patching a wire here and inserting a small component there.
Although he hadn't systematically studied electrical engineering, his years of practical experience gave him a general idea of what structures were functional and what parts could be substituted.
On this unremarkable deserted island, nothing distracted him from his work.
From dawn till dusk, from night till day, as long as he wasn't sleepy, he sat in front of his tent, studying the circuit board, trying to get it working.
Two Guam rails, used to his presence, huddled quietly in their nest.
Actually, Bai Mu had already untied the rope binding their feet, but the Guam rails remained obediently seated, showing no intention of leaving.
After all, next to this human, they had free food and a shelter from the wind and rain.
For a chick, having no worries about food or water was a kind of paradise, wasn't it?
The sun rose and set, set and rose again.
The unkempt Bai Mu, his face covered in a long beard...
His hair covered his ears, his clothes were covered in mud, oil, and brown rust, and he smelled of a mixture of earth and engine oil. He looked like a complete savage, blending into his surroundings.
But he didn't care about his appearance. After a long struggle, he once again persevered and connected the power supply and circuit board to the walkie-talkie.
The most primitive screws, copper wires, and green circuit board, like the internal organs, flesh, and bones beneath his skin, were exposed to the sunlight.
His calloused and rough hands steadily connected the power.
The long antenna, removed from the mast, was erected at the highest point of the tent and connected to the walkie-talkie. With a beep, the walkie-talkie's indicator light lit up.
Success! Bai Mu heard the hissing sound from the walkie-talkie.
He glanced at the wooden board, at the vertical and horizontal marks he used to record time. Four vertical marks plus one long mark represented five days; he remembered to make a mark every evening at dinner.
It was the twenty-fifth day, ten days since he discovered the stranded cruise ship.
He had spent ten days finally getting the walkie-talkie powered on.
In his view, this wrecked radio device had a new name:
[Name: Privately Modified Marine Walkie-Talkie]
[Type: Electronic Equipment]
[Quality: Ordinary]
[Note: I think this thing might work.]
A brief surge of joy welled up inside him, but he didn't relax.
Just getting it powered on was enough; he continued to adjust the antenna's position and reassemble the circuit board, which had undergone numerous modifications.
According to the script, the main 30-day survival mission had only five days left.
The game would end in five days, and he wanted to make the walkie-talkie work as much as possible before the deadline.
He held the walkie-talkie, turning the knob to adjust the channel.
After trying for an entire afternoon, in the evening, he actually heard a voice.
It was a foreign-accented English, full of background noise, and Bai Mu couldn't understand what the other person was saying. He could only try to ask in his own English, which had deteriorated over the past ten years, "Who are you?" and "Where are you from?"
He didn't know if the other person understood, but Bai Mu couldn't understand what they were saying.
Although the communication was different in language, Bai Mu could understand the emotions in their tone; he could hear the other person's surprise and excitement.
To be honest, he was a little excited himself, after all, this was the first time in many years that he had made contact with a living, breathing human being.
After about ten minutes of back-and-forth conversation, Bai Mu suddenly spotted a steel ship sailing towards him from the sea.
A dozen or so crew members in sailor uniforms were gathered at the bow, seemingly having spotted the stranded cruise ship and Bai Mu on the beach, waving.
These people were dressed respectably, and each one was very clean.
They were surprised yet smiling; Bai Mu sensed the aura of someone who had long lived in a peaceful society, and they seemed to have come with goodwill.