"So," Elric muttered aloud, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as understanding dawned, "Natasha equals water…"
It made sense in a strange way. Each person he integrated into his... what, harem? System? Each compatible survivor he took in would correspond to a different resource type. Like a gacha game where each character had their own specialty.
He couldn't help but smirk at the implications. "Then Jessica…"
His thoughts drifted to the proud, arrogant girl he'd just brought back—the one who had slapped away his offer with disgust earlier that morning, who was currently locked in the spare bedroom refusing to eat or drink out of sheer stubborn pride.
"If Natasha brings water," Elric murmured, a faint, dangerous grin forming on his lips as he stared at the locked door down the hall, "I wonder what kind of rewards Jessica will unlock."
Would it be food? Medicine? Weapons? Something else entirely?
The System's voice chimed again, adding additional information:
Note: The System determines that those taken in at 95 compatibility or higher have a chance to correspond to more than one material category.
Elric leaned back on the worn-out couch, his weight making the old springs creak, listening to the monotone voice of the System echo in his mind like a patient teacher explaining game mechanics.
"So that's how it works…" he muttered under his breath, processing the implications.
It was exactly like drawing cards in one of those mobile games he'd played before the world ended—each woman corresponded to a specific type of resource, predetermined by some algorithm or cosmic rule he didn't fully understand.
Natasha's "drops," as the System called them in its game-like terminology, all produced the same thing: Crystal Peak Mineral Water. Every single exchange, every reward unlocked through their connection, generated only that resource.
No matter how many exchanges he unlocked with her, it would always be the same—clean, pure, perfectly preserved water in those familiar plastic bottles.
Still, he couldn't complain. Not really.
In a world where acid rain melted through rooftops and corroded metal, where rivers ran black with contamination and even rainwater could kill you, even a single bottle of untainted water was worth more than gold. More than any precious metal or gemstone.
Water was life. Simple as that.
If he found someone else compatible, perhaps their materials would be different—maybe food, medicine, ammunition, or building supplies. The possibilities were endless.
Elric closed the System interface with a thought and stood, his joints popping slightly from sitting too long.
"Natasha," he called softly toward the bathroom, where he could hear water running.
Inside the master bedroom, Natasha was already waiting when she emerged, her hair tied up loosely in a messy bun, droplets of water still clinging to her neck. Her eyes were still uncertain, still carrying that mix of fear and pragmatism, but less afraid than before.
Fear was being replaced by something else. Acceptance, maybe. Or calculation.
"You ready?" he asked, his voice neutral.
Natasha gave a small nod, not trusting herself to speak. She still didn't fully understand what he was or what that strange light from nowhere had been. The physics of it, the impossibility, made her educated mind rebel.
But she knew one thing with absolute certainty—following Elric was safer than being out there among the screams and the poisoned air and the things that hunted in the fog.
Progress
Half an hour later, the faint chime of the System rang in Elric's ears, pleasant and rewarding.
[Ding! In-depth Exchange Complete.]
Reward: +1 Devil Fruit Experience Point.
Remaining Rewards (Natasha): 16 this month.
A grin tugged at Elric's lips. Finally. Not just supplies—real progress. Actual power advancement.
The System's interface appeared before his eyes, glowing softly:
[Please select an ability to apply the experience point.]
Without hesitation, he chose his only fruit-based power: The Ope-Ope no Mi—the Surgical Fruit. His most valuable asset, the ability that had kept him alive through every encounter.
[Ding! Ability upgraded. Current Level: 2 (2/20).]
Elric exhaled deeply, satisfaction warming his chest. The faint blue glow flickered across his palm for just a moment, visible only to him, before vanishing. The air in the room rippled slightly, reality bending for an instant before returning to normal.
He could feel the difference immediately—his Room felt more stable, his control more precise, his stamina drain slightly reduced.
Progress. Real, measurable progress.
Later that evening, as the sun set over the ruined city and cast long shadows through the cracked windows, the two of them sat together on the living room floor, surrounded by supplies.
They had soaked some instant noodles in hot water—the good kind, not the cheap brands—cooked a little rice with a portable camping stove, and even shared two unopened cans of Dr Pepper that Elric had pulled from his storage.
The smell of food filled the air—a smell that had become a luxury in the apocalypse, something most survivors would kill for. The aroma of seasoning packets, of warm rice, of carbonated sweetness.
It was almost obscene, this abundance in the midst of worldwide starvation.
The Outside World
Natasha scrolled through a social feed on her cracked phone screen, using the last of her battery life to check the community forums that somehow still functioned through spotty cell towers.
Her eyes trembled as she read the desperate posts, each one worse than the last:
"Whoever gives me a pack of noodles, I'll do anything!"
"My wife's dying from the toxic fog. I still have two kids—please, anyone!"
"The city's gone dark. The military stopped broadcasting. God… we're all going to die."
Each post was worse than the last—photos of gaunt faces, of bodies lying on the street ignored by passing survivors, of people fighting over moldy bread with fists and makeshift weapons.
Images of children crying beside dead parents. Of mass graves being dug in parking lots. Of cities burning in the distance.
Natasha's hand trembled slightly as she scrolled, her appetite momentarily forgotten. The contrast was too stark, too horrible.
Then, as she looked down at her bowl of steaming noodles, at the rice, at the cold soda sweating condensation, an odd emotion crept up—relief mixed with guilt.
While the world was collapsing outside, while people were dying by the thousands, she was warm, full, and safe.
It felt wrong somehow. But also... right.
She looked at Elric from across their makeshift table—an overturned crate with a clean towel spread across it.
He wasn't handsome—not in the model kind of way, not like the men she'd dated before. Too many sleepless nights had left bags under his eyes, his jawline was rough and unshaven, stubble covering his chin, and that calculating look in his eyes made him seem older than his years.
But the moment she saw him pull crates of supplies from thin air, watched him materialize resources with casual ease, she stopped caring about appearances.
That kind of power… meant survival. Meant life when everything else meant death.
"Maybe I was lucky," she whispered to herself, so quietly that Elric couldn't hear. "Lucky I chose him."
Lucky that he'd chosen her, really. That she'd met his compatibility requirements.
Trust Issues
Elric noticed her gaze, felt it on him like physical weight.
He turned, his expression unreadable, studying her face for signs of deception or hidden motives.
In this new world, he trusted no one—not even the ones who smiled at him, who shared his bed, who seemed grateful for his protection.
Human greed was more dangerous than any monster. More unpredictable. More vicious.
History had shown that repeatedly—people would betray anyone for an advantage, would kill their own family for food when starvation came calling.
Still, seeing Natasha look at him like that—half admiration, half fear, wholly dependent—made something shift inside him. Some emotion he couldn't quite name, didn't want to examine too closely.
The Locked Door
But before he could think too much about it, before he could let sentiment cloud his judgment, his eyes moved to the closed bedroom door down the hall.
Jessica.
It had been two and a half days since he last saw her, since he'd slapped her and locked her in there with supplies.
She hadn't touched the food or water he left, as far as he could tell. The bottles were still sealed, the packages unopened. He could hear her faint curses through the door sometimes—angry, desperate, proud even in her hunger.
"You bastard… you think I'll give in?"
"I'll never… never…"
She was the daughter of a state senator before all this, or maybe a district chief—he couldn't quite remember the details. Either way, spoiled her entire life, used to getting whatever she wanted through daddy's influence.
Now, she was just another survivor. Another potential resource.
Elric frowned, staring at that closed door. "Still not giving in, huh?" he muttered.
Outside, the world was burning. Inside, he had water, food, power, and time.
But he knew sooner or later, hunger would break even the strongest will. Biology was inevitable. The human body could only resist for so long before survival instinct overwhelmed pride.
And when it did, when Jessica finally realized that her pride couldn't fill her stomach or quench her thirst, she would finally understand—
The world she knew was gone.
Only strength mattered now. Only power. Only the willingness to do whatever it took to survive another day.
And he had all three.
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