The journey back from the mountains of North Georgia was silent. Arthur's old truck smelled of pine, gunpowder, and fresh meat. In the back, resting under a tarp, lay the carcasses of three white-tailed deer. The first—mine—we would keep to fill our freezer; the other two, taken with my father's veteran precision, had a different destiny.
Arthur was not a wealthy man, and in 1980s Georgia, bartering and the direct sale of game meat between neighbors was a common way to grease the wheels of the local economy.
"We'll take these two to Smith's butcher shop," Dad said, tapping the steering wheel to the beat of a country song. "Old Tom will give us a fair price for clean meat. You did a good job with the dressing, Will. That'll save us the cutting fee."
I nodded, looking out the window. I didn't care about the money, but I was interested in the exchange process. I watched how Arthur negotiated, how he used his body language to close the deal, and how the butcher inspected my cuts with a raised eyebrow, impressed by the cleanliness of the tendons.
Skill Up: Negotiation (Lvl 2)
Skill Up: Charisma (Lvl 4)
Once home, with the freezer full and the school routine resumed, I focused on what truly mattered: invisibility. In a world where "Listeners" can detect the scrape of a fingernail against metal, walking like a normal human is a death sentence. I began my Stealth and Body Control training inside our own house.
Every night, after my parents turned out the lights, my objective was to cross from my bedroom to the kitchen, navigating the old wooden hallway that creaked under the slightest weight.
I learned to distribute my weight on the very edges of the floorboards, where the support is firmest and noise is non-existent. I walked by landing on the outer edge of my foot first and rolling toward the ball. At the start, Arthur—whose veteran Perception was high—would peek into the hallway asking if I wanted water. After three months, I could stand at the foot of his bed watching him sleep without him even twitching an eyelid.
I started using the system to monitor my heartbeat. I practiced holding my breath while performing light physical exertion, teaching my muscles to work under hypoxic (low oxygen) conditions. I also aimed to reduce my "sound signature." A survivor who isn't breathing heavily after a sprint is a survivor who doesn't attract Walkers.
Skill Up: Stealth (Lvl 7)
Skill Up: Athletics (Lvl 5)
Stat Up: Agility (AGI) +0.5
━━━ [ DETAILED STATUS: WILLIAM MILLER ] ━━━
Age: 10 (Elementary Graduate) | Level: 12 (EXP: 120/1200)
Available Stat Points: 60 (Reserved)
PRIMARY STATS
STR (Strength): 9.0 — Can carry heavy shop tools; handles firearm recoil with ease.
AGI (Agility): 14.5 — Exceptional reflexes; moves silently and reacts to physical attacks instantly.
END (Endurance): 11.2 — High lung capacity; can run long distances or work hours under the sun.
INT (Intelligence): 22.0 — Genius tactical processing; photographic memory. Storage: 8 m3.
PER (Perception): 10.5 — Heightened senses; detects environmental changes and nearby "presences."
SKILL TREE
Combat & Weaponry:
Melee Combat (Hybrid): Lvl 12
Firearms (Rifles/Hunting): Lvl 10
Throwing (Knives/Objects): Lvl 4
Combat Anatomy (Vital Points): Lvl 4
Survival & Fieldwork:
Hunting & Tracking: Lvl 8
Field Dressing & Butchery: Lvl 6
Wilderness Survival: Lvl 7
Leatherworking: Lvl 2
Technical & Knowledge:
Mechanics: Lvl 4
Medicine (First Aid/Anatomy): Lvl 6
Structural Engineering: Lvl 1
Languages: English (N), Spanish (Lvl 5), French (Lvl 2)
General Knowledge: Lvl 15
Utility & Perception:
Stealth: Lvl 7
Sensory Intuition (Hearing/Touch): Lvl 6
Cooking: Lvl 3
Spatial Manipulation (Storage Use): Lvl 2
Social & Psychological:
Charisma / Leadership: Lvl 4
Persuasion / Seduction: Lvl 2
Intimidation: Lvl 1
Behavioral Psychology: Lvl 2
PASSIVE SKILLS / TALENTS
Steady Hands: Reduces stress tremors by 10%.
Iron Shins: Increased resistance to leg bone pain.
Original Host: Latent synchronization with the Wildfire virus (Will increase after outbreak).
Predatory Lack of Empathy: Remorse does not affect combat or hunting performance.
The return to suburban normalcy in Georgia felt almost unreal after tasting blood and steel in the forest. However, my mind did not rest. The butchering of the deer had taught me a valuable lesson: gunpowder is effective, but it is loud. In the world to come, the sound of a rifle shot would be like lighting a giant flare to attract every nearby Walker.
I needed a silent weapon. An extension of my arm that didn't depend on casings or powder.
One afternoon, while helping my father clean tractor engine parts in the shop, I decided to bait the hook. I couldn't sound too calculating, so I played the "enthusiastic hunting kid" persona.
"Dad," I said, rubbing a spark plug with an oily rag, "the last deer almost got away because the first shot scared it so much. If there was a way to hunt without all that noise... we could have brought back more meat."
Arthur looked up, squinting as he wiped sweat with his forearm. "You thinking about traps, Will? They're slow, and sometimes cruel."
"No, I was thinking about what the ancients used. A bow. It's silent. If I miss, the animal might not even know where the danger came from."
Arthur went quiet for a moment, evaluating my build. At ten, my STR of 9.0 was comparable to an average teenager, but a real hunting bow required back and shoulder tension few children possessed.
"The bow is harder than the rifle, Will. No scope is going to save you if you don't have composure. But you're right about one thing: silence is a hunter's best friend. Tomorrow we'll go see an old friend in the next county. He makes compound bows."
The next day, Arthur introduced me to a traditional maple wood recurve bow. He didn't want me to start with modern pulleys; he wanted me to feel the pure tension of the material.
"If you can't master wood, you won't master carbon fiber," he warned.
My first mistake was trying to draw the string with my arm muscles. My arm shook and the arrow flew wide.
"Don't use your arm, Will. Use your back. Imagine you want to touch your shoulder blades together."
By applying my Endurance (END) and coordinating with my Strength, I achieved a stable anchor at the corner of my mouth. The system vibrated. At first, I "plucked" the string, making it vibrate and throw off the arrow, but I learned to let my fingers slip away like silk. Then, the arrow began to fly straight.
Unlike the rifle, there is no red dot. I had to rely on my Perception (PER). I began to visualize the arrow's parabola before releasing.
Skill Unlocked: Archery (Lvl 1)
Skill Up: Patience / Focus (Lvl 3)
Over the following months, the bow became my obsession. I set up a straw target in the backyard. I practiced at dawn and dusk, forcing my eyes to calculate distances in the twilight. I began making my own arrows under Arthur's guidance, learning to balance tip weight with fletching. I used my Subdimensional Storage to "clean" the yard of evidence when I finished, storing the arrows there so they wouldn't wear out in the weather.
Skill Up: Archery (Lvl 4)
Skill Up: Crafting: Arrows (Lvl 2)
Stat Progress: Strength (STR) +0.2 (From repeated 40lb bow tension)
While drawing the string one night under a full moon, looking at the target thirty meters away, I realized something. The bow wasn't just a weapon; it was a perfect stealth tool. I could recover the ammunition. I could fire from a tree without alerting a horde.
I looked at my stats. My Perception was rising because I now had to "feel" the wind and gravity.
"When the time comes," I whispered, releasing the arrow which struck the dead center of the straw bale, "they won't even hear me coming."
[ QUICK UPDATE ]
STR: 9.2 (Increasing from the bow)
PER: 11.0 (Distance and wind calculation)
New Skill: Archery Lvl 4
New Skill: Arrow Crafting Lvl 2