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Born for greatness but silenced by tradition, Elara watched her world crumble into ash. With a forbidden power awakened and dragons at her command, she is no longer the victim they expect. She has returned to claim everything they stole. This time, Elara isn't coming to save—she’s coming to conquer. 🐉🔥
🔥Rekindling the Flame of Valhalla Global💪 🤩Norse Mythic Open World MMORPG😆 ✨Login to get VIP for free🎊
Born for greatness but silenced by tradition, Elara watched her world crumble into ash. With a forbidden power awakened and dragons at her command, she is no longer the victim they expect. She has returned to claim everything they stole. This time, Elara isn't coming to save—she’s coming to conquer. 🐉🔥
Born for greatness but silenced by tradition, Elara watched her world crumble into ash. With a forbidden power awakened and dragons at her command, she is no longer the victim they expect. She has returned to claim everything they stole. This time, Elara isn't coming to save—she’s coming to conquer. 🐉🔥
Born for greatness but silenced by tradition, Elara watched her world crumble into ash. With a forbidden power awakened and dragons at her command, she is no longer the victim they expect. She has returned to claim everything they stole. This time, Elara isn't coming to save—she’s coming to conquer. 🐉🔥
Born for greatness but silenced by tradition, Elara watched her world crumble into ash. With a forbidden power awakened and dragons at her command, she is no longer the victim they expect. She has returned to claim everything they stole. This time, Elara isn't coming to save—she’s coming to conquer. 🐉🔥
Born for greatness but silenced by tradition, Elara watched her world crumble into ash. With a forbidden power awakened and dragons at her command, she is no longer the victim they expect. She has returned to claim everything they stole. This time, Elara isn't coming to save—she’s coming to conquer. 🐉🔥
Born for greatness but silenced by tradition, Elara watched her world crumble into ash. With a forbidden power awakened and dragons at her command, she is no longer the victim they expect. She has returned to claim everything they stole. This time, Elara isn't coming to save—she’s coming to conquer. 🐉🔥
Born for greatness but silenced by tradition, Elara watched her world crumble into ash. With a forbidden power awakened and dragons at her command, she is no longer the victim they expect. She has returned to claim everything they stole. This time, Elara isn't coming to save—she’s coming to conquer. 🐉🔥
Born for greatness but silenced by tradition, Elara watched her world crumble into ash. With a forbidden power awakened and dragons at her command, she is no longer the victim they expect. She has returned to claim everything they stole. This time, Elara isn't coming to save—she’s coming to conquer. 🐉🔥
Born for greatness but silenced by tradition, Elara watched her world crumble into ash. With a forbidden power awakened and dragons at her command, she is no longer the victim they expect. She has returned to claim everything they stole. This time, Elara isn't coming to save—she’s coming to conquer. 🐉🔥
Born for greatness but silenced by tradition, Elara watched her world crumble into ash. With a forbidden power awakened and dragons at her command, she is no longer the victim they expect. She has returned to claim everything they stole. This time, Elara isn't coming to save—she’s coming to conquer. 🐉🔥
Born for greatness but silenced by tradition, Elara watched her world crumble into ash. With a forbidden power awakened and dragons at her command, she is no longer the victim they expect. She has returned to claim everything they stole. This time, Elara isn't coming to save—she’s coming to conquer. 🐉🔥
Born for greatness but silenced by tradition, Elara watched her world crumble into ash. With a forbidden power awakened and dragons at her command, she is no longer the victim they expect. She has returned to claim everything they stole. This time, Elara isn't coming to save—she’s coming to conquer. 🐉🔥
Born for greatness but silenced by tradition, Elara watched her world crumble into ash. With a forbidden power awakened and dragons at her command, she is no longer the victim they expect. She has returned to claim everything they stole. This time, Elara isn't coming to save—she’s coming to conquer. 🐉🔥
Born for greatness but silenced by tradition, Elara watched her world crumble into ash. With a forbidden power awakened and dragons at her command, she is no longer the victim they expect. She has returned to claim everything they stole. This time, Elara isn't coming to save—she’s coming to conquer. 🐉🔥
Born for greatness but silenced by tradition, Elara watched her world crumble into ash. With a forbidden power awakened and dragons at her command, she is no longer the victim they expect. She has returned to claim everything they stole. This time, Elara isn't coming to save—she’s coming to conquer. 🐉🔥
Born for greatness but silenced by tradition, Elara watched her world crumble into ash. With a forbidden power awakened and dragons at her command, she is no longer the victim they expect. She has returned to claim everything they stole. This time, Elara isn't coming to save—she’s coming to conquer. 🐉🔥
Born for greatness but silenced by tradition, Elara watched her world crumble into ash. With a forbidden power awakened and dragons at her command, she is no longer the victim they expect. She has returned to claim everything they stole. This time, Elara isn't coming to save—she’s coming to conquer. 🐉🔥
The Daughter Who Commands Dragon!
The Daughter Who Commands Dragon!
"The 11 year old gild had a knife to my throat!" Listen to Damian's shocking story only on Pocket FM.
I" was a skinny, weak ten-year-old and a girl made me PISS MYSELF in front of the whole court. This could mean only one thing: REVENGE." Listen to Damian's story for free. Only on Pocket FM
A modern Xianxia epic designed for genre fans. Forge your destiny without the clutter.
🔥😱Gwen Swann never expected to be stranded on a raft in the middle of the ocean. Somehow, there were billions of people in the same situation as her, having been transported by a system which forced them to survive in the seas. It was a game and only the toughest and smartest would come out top. Unlike others who started complaining, unable to wrap their heads what was happening, Gwen started taking stock of what she had and got a move on. There was no time to lose when everyone was fighting for resources. Fortunately for her, she seemed to be having a stroke of luck, and the ocean blessed her with rich pickings. Soon, she was making trades and befriending other players. But as time passed, things took a darker turn. Gwen would soon realize this wasn't merely a game. There would be times when she had to kill or be killed herself… ------------------------------------------- Chapter 1 Raft Survival: Global Edition The sky above Gwen Swann was a clean, endless blue. No clouds. No contrails. Under her, the ocean went on forever, a dark mouth that did not blink. She sat on a raft barely 43 square feet in area. No land. No boats. No gulls. Just water and the slap of waves. The spray soaked her jeans and the fabric stuck cold to her legs, like the sea was claiming her piece by piece. Gwen stared ahead, her mind completely blank. She was pretty sure that five minutes ago, she'd been at the office, half-dead from overtime, staring at a spreadsheet and wondering if coffee counted as dinner. Gwen thought, 'Kidnapped? By who, exactly. 'I am a soft target with nothing to my name. What, someone hauled me out here to inherit my student loans and maxed-out Visa?' A translucent screen flickered into view at the corner of her vision, like a heads-up display from a game. Lines of text scrolled by. [Global Chat]: [Okay, no joke, where the hell are we?] [I was literally about to clutch a pentakill and now I'm in the ocean. This has to be a prank.] [Someone tell me I'm dreaming. Or knock me out. Either works.] [Is anyone else here actually real? I don't see a single person.] [I'm gonna throw up. I get seasick on this boat. This is not funny.] [Bro, calling this thing a boat is generous. My dog's crate is bigger.] [Seasick? Try having deep-sea phobia. I swear something huge just swam under my raft.] [Nana, if you're watching from heaven, please don't let me die like this!] Gwen exhaled quietly. 'Good. I am not alone. At least this nightmare has company.' The chat continued to dissolve into chaos, but before she could read more, another voice cut through everything. Cold. Flat. Inhuman. It didn't come from the screen. It came from inside her head. [Congratulations. You have entered the Ocean Survival Game. Player ID: 29,786,510. [All five billion players have successfully entered the game. The Grand Sea Route is now officially open. Please remember the following navigation rules. [From this point forward, your life will take place at sea. You may collect resources by salvaging floating debris, fishing, and exploring islands in order to upgrade your vessel and survive. [During the New Player Protection Period, players are prohibited from attacking one another. Violations will result in system penalties. [The New Player Protection Period lasts three days. During this time, overall difficulty is significantly reduced. Use this window wisely and gather supplies as quickly as possible. [You have one life. Please do not waste it. [After the protection period ends, the global event "Ocean Storm" will begin. [Warning: the storm will destroy all vessels with a Sturdiness Value below five. Upgrade your ship to ensure survival. [A Beginner Blind Box has been delivered to your vessel. Happy sailing.] Right on cue, something dropped from above. A small wooden box hit the raft with a dull thump and slid to a stop near Gwen's feet. A large question mark was painted on the lid. So this was the so-called Beginner Blind Box. Only then did she notice the rest of her starting equipment. A fishing rod lay near the edge of the raft, old enough to look like it had lived several past lives. Next to it sat an iron grappling hook, spotted with rust and tied to a fraying rope. The moment she focused on them, translucent stat panels popped up in front of her eyes. [Worn Fishing Rod] [Quality: Poor] [Description: Standard beginner item. Everyone gets one. Can be used for fishing.] [Worn Throwing Hook] [Quality: Poor] [Everyone gets one of these starter tools. Use it to snag whatever junk's floating by on the waves.] [Dilapidated Wooden Raft] [Sturdiness: 1 (May fall apart at any time.)] [Speed: 0 (It's a busted raft. Manage your expectations.)] [Storage Capacity: 0/10 slots] [Durability: 100/100] [Upgrade requirements: 20 Wood, 10 Cloth, 10 Seaweeds, 1 Iron Ore, 1 Dull Pearl.] [(Upgrade unavailable. Insufficient materials.)] After reading through the raft's stats, Gwen finally understood just how bad things were. Five billion people around the world had been dumped into this so-called survival game. Everyone started the same way. One useless raft. No food. No fresh water. And a three-day countdown. Technically, a person could survive about a week without food if they were careful. But the ocean storm coming in three days would wipe out this raft without even trying. A structural rating of one might as well be a death sentence. If she wanted to live, upgrading this floating pile of wood wasn't optional. It was everything. Gwen had never been the kind of person who wasted energy complaining about fate. When she realized something couldn't be changed, she made the only sensible choice. She adapted, and she did it fast. That was how the world worked. Survival of the fittest. The strong stayed standing, and everyone else got swept aside. She understood that rule instinctively. So while the global chat was still packed with people shouting, whining, and melting down in real time, Gwen was already moving, quietly collecting whatever she could get her hands on. She wrapped the rope of the throwing hook securely around her wrist and locked onto a wooden plank drifting about fifteen feet straight ahead. The metal hook sliced through the air with a sharp whistle. It grazed the edge of the plank and missed. The hook splashed into the water and vanished beneath the surface, swallowed whole by the sea. Gwen pulled the rope, reeling the hook back in. She had underestimated how fast the hook traveled, and she hadn't accounted for the way the current nudged floating debris forward. Lesson learned. On the second throw, she adjusted her timing and released. The hook landed squarely in the middle of the plank. Nailed it. She hauled it in and noticed a strip of bright green seaweed tangled around the bottom. [Item acquired: 1 Wood, 1 Seaweed] A buy-one-get-one deal. She wasn't complaining. Everything she collected was automatically transferred into the raft's storage. A notification popped up as the capacity updated to 2 out of 500. No breaks. Gwen's eyes were already on the next piece of debris. [Wood+1] [Cloth +1] [Seaweed +1] ***** Three hours later, Gwen barely had to think about it anymore. Her wrist felt sore, sure, but her accuracy was ridiculous. Anything she aimed at might as well have been glued to the hook. Misses were rare. She checked her inventory. Twenty three pieces of wood. Eleven cloth. Ten seaweed. That was enough to upgrade the raft. What she still needed was iron ore and that dull-looking pearl. And she had no clue where either of those came from. Out of curiosity, she glanced back at the global chat. The conversation had moved on. Everyone was now arguing about the newbie loot boxes. [Are you kidding me? Five pieces of wood. That's it?] [I got two bottles of water. Best day of my life. I was about to pass out.] [Five wood gang here.] [Same. Five wood.] [Same here.] [So the devs really went full gacha scam on us, huh?] [This is supposed to be a starter reward, not a slap in the face.] [Cry more. Check out what I pulled.] One message stood out immediately. Someone had posted a full item card. [Shark Tooth Dagger] [Quality: Common] [A dagger made from shark teeth. Sharp enough. Deals double damage to sharks.] 'Wait, weapons are in the loot boxes too?' Gwen thought, surprised. Gwen scrolled. Weapon pulls were rare. Most people got basic materials. Some luckier players scored food, fresh water, binoculars, or flint. One insanely lucky player claimed they had pulled one hundred dull pearls. Gwen's eyes narrowed. The raft upgrade required one pearl. She still had no idea how to get one, and it was obvious these were way more valuable than wood or cloth. The pearl guy wasted no time. [Selling extra pearls. One pearl for 200 wood, cloth, or seaweed.] [Two hundred wood for one pearl? Just mug us next time.] [I fished up a giant oyster with the starter rod. Cracked it open, pearl inside. If you want pearls, go fishing.] [Fishing my ass. I've been sitting here for an hour and nothing's biting.] [Same. Didn't catch a thing and almost fell in.] [Basic fishing tip. You need bait. I tore off a piece of bread from a loot box, tied it to the hook, instant fish.] [So what you're saying is I need food to get food?] [No bait means no fish. No fish means no food. This game is evil.] [Selling one piece of wheat bread, 150 grams, for 200 wood. First come, first served.] [Dude, that's even worse than the pearl guy.] [I would rather starve than trade my pride for bread.] [Trading newbie blind box for five pieces of wheat bread.] [People are selling blind boxes already?] [My luck sucks anyway. Five wood isn't doing me any favors.] Everyone was brand new, all stuck with the same problems. No food. No water. The moment someone had extras, prices went through the roof. Gwen felt the faint tug of hunger in her stomach after hours of work, but it was manageable. She wasn't desperate yet. Trading valuable resources for food now would just mean grinding for someone else's benefit. She picked up the blind box resting on the raft. Trading it for bread was probably the smart move. Still, Gwen hesitated. Compared to five pieces of wood, taking a shot at luck didn't seem like the worst idea in the world. Chapter 2 The Legendary Rod Gwen worked a thumb under the seal and muttered a quick prayer to the loot gods. 'Not lumber. Please not lumber. If it isn't a weapon, let it be food.' The box popped, and a long, slender rod shimmered into her hand. [Lucky Octo Fishing Rod] [Quality: Legendary] [Comes with a jelly octopus lure that gives off a strange scent and has ridiculous suction. Guarantees a bite with every cast and greatly increases your odds of pulling rare fish and rare items. [Fair warning: certain uncanny creatures are also drawn to it. Use with care. [Anglers never get skunked!] Gwen's eyes lit up. 'Talk about perfect timing. With a rod that comes with its own bait, I don't have to worry about finding any myself.' And it was legendary. Back home she had dabbled in those cheesy pay to win MMOs where numbers fly off mobs like confetti. Legendary sounded a whole lot sweeter than the common dagger people were flexing in global chat. Shame it was a fishing rod. She would have killed for something she could swing. Still, no sense getting greedy. Compared to the poor souls who drew five planks, this was an S tier start. She gave the rod a closer look. The build was miles ahead of the starter stick, with fancy scrollwork carved into the grip. A clear little octopus hung at the end of the line, glossy and wobbly like a gummy candy. She tapped it with a fingertip. The tiny octopus twitched, then latched on with all eight arms. Okay, that suction was no joke. She couldn't peel it off. Gwen muttered, "Easy there, buddy. Let go." She rapped it gently on the head with her other hand. The octopus seemed to realize it had the wrong target and unhooked itself, almost apologetic. Gwen faced the open water, set her stance, and sent the line out in a clean, pretty arc. Legendary or not, she fully expected a bite. That warning about uncanny creatures in the description went straight into the mental trash. 'When your stomach is filing complaints, you do not worry about sea spooks. If it is edible, it is eligible,' Gwen scoffed to herself. Two minutes had not even passed when the float snapped under and vanished. Her wrist dipped. The rod bowed into a tidy arc under the pull. Fish on. The fight was nothing. She hauled up in one smooth motion and slapped a small, silver bright fish onto the raft. Its tail drummed the boards like a snare. [You obtained: Jack Mackerel x1] [Auto dismantle? (System processing reduces yield.) ] She hit Yes. No tools, no way to deal with guts, and she was not about to chew the thing whole like a seal. [You obtained: Jack Mackerel Fillet x3] She weighed the slices in her palm. The fish had to be about a pound, and after the system took its cut, more than a third had evaporated. Highway robbery. Gwen clicked her tongue. Yeah, no. She decided once she had decent tools, she would clean her catch herself. No more letting the system skim her dinner. Her stomach chimed in again. She raised a piece of raw fillet and took a bite. The texture was soft and tender, almost creamy, with a faint sweetness that lingered after she swallowed. 'Fresh caught hits different,' Gwen thought, savoring the flavor. She polished off the fillets in a few quick bites. Maybe half full. The fish had been way too small. She wrapped her fingers tighter around the rod and cast again. 'With a rod that literally never come up empty, food is the least of my worries, right?' Not long after, the bobber dipped. Another bite. She reeled it in with barely any effort. The sun was sinking fast, the light thinning into dusk. Whatever was on the hook gleamed against the darkening water, and for a split second she thought she had struck it rich. Then she leaned closer. A starfish. [Glowing Starfish] [Inedible. Emits light at night. Can be used as an adorable bedside lamp.] Gwen stared at it, the corners of her mouth twitching. 'Awesome,' she thought. 'Real cute. Totally useless.' It didn't struggle or try to crawl away, so she dumped it off to the side of the raft. After that, things went completely sideways. She caught two more horse mackerel and one sea bream. Everything else was glowing starfish. Blue ones. Green ones. Pink ones. They stacked up until half the raft was covered, like they had organized a group outing and decided her hook was the place to be. Gwen squinted at the pile and sighed. 'Did I drop anchor in a starfish daycare or what?' The night sky was pitch black, no moon, no stars. The heap of glowing starfish became the only light around, colors weaving together and shifting constantly. Blue, green, pink, purple, all bleeding into each other. Her face, her hands, even the wooden planks under her boots were washed in that unreal glow. The light spilled out onto the surrounding sea, making it look like the raft was drifting through a magical field of stars. There was no sail, but the raft kept moving with the current. Maybe she really had drifted straight into their territory. That would explain a lot. She rubbed her sore wrist just as a familiar system chime sounded. [Heads up, players: It is now 11:00 p.m. Between 11:00 p.m. and 5:00 a.m., the chance of catching eerie creatures and special items is doubled. We recommend getting proper rest. Staying up late is bad for your health.] Three fish. All small. That was the entire haul. Not great. She needed enough to eat tomorrow, and she had hoped to trade extra fish for fresh water with other players. The system's cheerful warning made her uneasy. Gwen exhaled slowly. 'One last cast,' she told herself. 'If it's another glow stick with legs, I'm done for the night.' She cast again. A few minutes passed, then her rod dipped hard. This time the weight nearly yanked it from her hands. Now that was more like it. Sixty pounds at least. Probably more. She braced her feet and started reeling, a grin breaking through. Finally. Anything but another starfish. Gwen had always been strong. As a kid she dominated both sprints and distance runs. In college she could hoist a full water jug with one hand, no problem. When she rolled up her sleeves, muscle lines stood out clear as day. She gave the line a sharp tug and frowned. Whatever she had hooked was not fighting back. No thrashing. No pull. Just dead weight. "Don't tell me I snagged a rock,' she thought. 'Maybe coral.' She reeled it in steadily and dragged it up alongside the raft. Then she grabbed it with both hands and hauled it aboard. It turned out to be a wine barrel, easily half as tall as she was. Gwen didn't open it right away. She leaned in and knocked on the lid, listening. Nothing moved. Satisfied, she slid a wooden plank into the seam and pried. The lid popped loose, and a wave of stale, rotten air rushed out. Gwen pinched her nose and leaned over to look inside. Curled within the barrel was a complete human skeleton. The skull wore a wide-brimmed pirate tricorn, complete with an eyepatch. The left hand still clutched a rusted revolver. On the right hand, something caught the light, flashing brightly on a finger bone. It was a ring. Chapter 3 The Legacy Of A Special Profession Out on the open ocean in the middle of the night, the moon threw a cold wash of light into the barrel and turned those bones paper white. The empty sockets stared at Gwen. Creepy, sure, if one scared easy. Gwen didn't. She lifted an eyebrow, more bored than bothered. 'Please,' she thought, 'it's a skeleton. Back when it was breathing, it couldn't have gone one round with me. Now that it's dead, I'm not losing a wink of sleep.' She reached in and fished out the soaked pirate hat. [Captain Malcolm's Pirate Hat] [Quality: uncommon (Damaged, repairable)] [A swaggering captain's hat that radiates command presence. While worn, crewwide morale +1 when you issue orders.] Not bad. Better tier than that shark-tooth dagger folks had been flexing in global chat. She checked the pistol, then the ring. [Rusted Revolver] [Quality: Uncommon (Damaged, repairable)] [Just your average revolver, but after soaking in seawater for years, the barrel's rusted and the aim's not what it used to be.] The revolver was the same tier as the hat, both out of commission until she fixed them. Her eyes slid to the ring, and that was it. Hooked. [Ring of the Undead] [Quality: Legendary] [Wearing this triggers the Ghost Pirate class inheritance. Cannot be removed.] [Curse: Upon death you will become a skeleton; your soul will not find rest.] [Includes 1,000-slot storage.] (Item rarity, low to high: Poor - Common - Uncommon - Rare - Epic- Unique - Legendary) Gwen held her breath, grinning despite herself. Another Legendary. She had no clue what a Ghost Pirate did, but Legendary meant heavy hitters. Plus a thousand storage slots. Her raft had, what, ten? The curse? Please. In a survival game this rough, most players were lucky to make it a few days. To her, worrying about the afterlife felt like putting a roof on a house one hadn't framed yet. She slid the ring on without hesitation. [You have obtained a special class: Ghost Pirate.] [You have acquired the class skills Spectral Footwork and Bone Reanimation.] [Spectral Footwork: Your movement becomes spectral; no one can pin you down. Blink to any point within 33 feet. Costs 10 magic points. Cooldown: 30 minutes.] [Bone Reanimation: Stir bones back to motion as your loyal minion. Costs 100 mana. (Requires bones to be at least 80% intact.)] [Congratulations! You are the first player on the server to obtain a special class. Reward: System Blind Box x1. It will be airdropped to your raft shortly.] A wooden crate stamped with question marks thumped onto the raft out of thin air. Gwen barely looked at it. She was too busy savoring the jackpot. Spectral Footwork was the perfect panic button, pure blink-and-you-missed-it. Bone Reanimation sounded downright busted in the best way. 'Raise bones? Seriously? So if I grab enough bones, do I get to field my own skeleton army?' The idea hit her like a wave, ridiculous and thrilling in equal measure. Her eyes slid to the bones stuffed in the wine barrel. 'Look at that. A starter kit, already assembled.' She tried Bone Reanimation. [Skill activation failed. Insufficient magic points.] 'Magic points?' She blinked. Back in college, she had mainlined power-fantasy web serials, so the term rang a bell. She flicked through the system overlay until she found a tucked-away character sheet. [ID: Player #29786510] [Title: None] [Class: Ghost Pirate, Tier 1 (upgrade requires reviving 10 skeletons, progress 0/10)] [Constitution: 5 (affects disease resistance, toughness, and HP, 1 point = 10 HP)] [Strength: 7 (affects how much weight you can lift.)] [Agility: 6 (affects speed and flexibility.)] [Intelligence: 8 (affects mana capacity and mana recovery, 1 point = 10 magic points.)] [Luck: Hidden (affects treasure finds and the odds of good breaks.)] [Charisma: Hidden (affects NPC attitudes toward you.)] [HP: 50] [Magic Points: 80] [Skills: Spectral Footwork, Bone Reanimation.] That cleared it up. Magic points scaled off Intelligence. She was going to need to bump INT to at least ten. She checked the pirate hat and the revolver next. The hat needed a Tailor class and five pieces of cloth to repair. The revolver wanted a Blacksmith class, two iron ore, and, naturally, bullets. Which meant both items were benched for now. She packed every resource into the Ring of the Undead. Her overloaded raft suddenly had room to breathe. The barrel and the skeleton were still hogging space, so she tried to stash those too. The next second, a black eyepatch tumbled out and landed by her foot. She picked it up, surprised. The skull's eyepatch wasn't just a prop. It was gear, and she had almost missed it. [Captain Malcolm's Eyepatch] [Quality: Unique (Upgradable)] [Effect: Lets the wearer read basic player info. A reliable companion for wholesome activities like piracy, robbery, and doing crimes with style. Also looks cool. A pirate without an eyepatch is just a guy in a hat.] That was way too useful to pass up. She slipped it on. Her left eye went dark, her world narrowed, and the lack of depth felt weird. Then she spotted a Hide Appearance toggle in the UI, tapped it, and the eyepatch vanished while her vision snapped back to normal. 'Nice quality-of-life touch,' she thought. Otherwise she might as well tattoo "I'm a pirate" on her forehead. A Lucky Octo Fishing Rod, the Ring of the Undead, and now an eyepatch like a cheat code. The game had been live for a single day and she already had three pieces of Unique-grade gear or better. "Unique" meant one of one across the entire server. As in, only hers. "Luck" was listed as hidden, sure, but she was pretty confident her number there wasn't small. Riding the hot streak, she cracked open the system's loot box. [1 Monocular Telescope, 2 Sun-Protective Sports Outfits, 1 Fisherman's Happy Folding Kit, 1 Mysterious Fruit, 10 Global Chat Megaphones, 10 Coconuts, 10 Straws] Hard to say if this haul was statistically blessed without a leaderboard, but the stuff itself was solid. The telescope and sunproof clothing were gold on open water. Better yet, she had drinkable liquid. Ten coconuts would keep her hydrated for three or four days. The Fisherman's Happy Folding Kit was a sun umbrella, a folding chair, a little folding table, a fish basket, and a landing net. Her raft was about forty square feet, just big enough to pop open the chair and table. Which meant tonight she didn't have to sleep on bare planks. That felt like a win. Each player got ten messages a day on the global chat. Anything beyond that needed a megaphone item. Gwen wasn't big on global chatter, so those megaphones were the least useful thing in the pile. Which left one last item staring up at her. The mysterious fruit. Chapter 4 Glowing Starfish Sells Out The Mysterious Fruit was about the size of an apple, but that was where the familiarity ended. The whole thing was an unnatural shade of blue, with strange spiral patterns etched across the skin. It looked less like food and more like something pulled straight out of a cartoon fantasy series. Blue was not a hunger-friendly color. Just holding it made Gwen doubt her life choices. Still, this had come from a system blind box. She was sure the game was not going to hand her a reward and quietly kill her with it. Probably. She closed her eyes, steeled herself, and took a bite. 'Huh. It is actually… fine,' she thought. A little like a blueberry and an apple had teamed up and decided to be refreshing. The moment she swallowed, a crisp notification chimed in her head. [You have consumed a Mysterious Fruit. Intelligence +1.] Gwen's eyes snapped open. 'Seriously? Right when I needed it?' She had been worrying five minutes ago about how to raise her Intelligence stat, and now the game just dropped the answer into her lap. Or rather, into her mouth. Of course, she knew better than to get used to it. This fruit had come from a system blind box she earned by hitting first place server-wide. That kind of luck did not exactly grow on trees. By the time she finished marveling at it, the clock was creeping toward midnight. Before calling it a night, Gwen casually opened the global chat. And immediately regretted it. [It's pitch black out here. Someone help. I hate tight spaces and the ocean is freaking me out!] [Trading fresh water for anything that gives light.] [One flint for one hundred wood. Or food and water. I'm flexible.] [A hundred wood? You out of your mind?] [Pulled a wooden crate while salvaging. Got a brazier blueprint. I can craft braziers for people. Materials are five charcoal, ten wood. Crafting fee is one iron ore.] [Iron ore is harder to find than food. If I had ore, I would upgrade my raft. Anyone got extra?] Gwen blinked. 'Flint and braziers are already this hot?' She glanced at the folding table beside her raft. The glowing starfish sat there quietly, glowing with a soft blue light, steady and warm like a night lamp. If people were desperate for light, this little thing could easily put a brazier to shame. Another message exploded into the chat. [Do not fish at night. I hooked a sea snake and it bit me. I'm poisoned and my HP is dropping nonstop. I'm almost dead. Does anyone have an antidote potion? I'll trade everything I own!] [Antidotes are insanely rare. No one is giving that up.] [Yeah, that stuff saves your life. No amount of resources is worth it.] The mockery came fast, piling on without mercy. Then one message cut through the noise. Wind in the Night: [I have one. I don't need it right now. I'll trade it to you. Saving a life matters.] Gwen froze for a second. 'Wow. People like that still exist?' [Oh my god, thank you. You're a saint. I owe you big time, seriously!] The gratitude barely finished before the floodgates opened. [Hey, boss, got any food? Haven't eaten all day, I'm dying here.] [Bro, I'm completely out of fresh water. My throat feels like sandpaper. Can you spare a little? Half a bottle even?] [Wait, do you have another antidote? I got bit too. I'm dizzy, can't see straight. I think I'm done for.] The chat went absolutely feral, messages flying so fast they blurred together. Gwen sighed and shook her head. 'Kindness itself is not a mistake. But in a survival game where everyone is one bad decision away from death, being too kind was just another way to paint a target on your back.' A moment later, Wind in the Night replied again: [Sorry, guys. I don't have much. I only found that one antidote in a salvage crate.] ***** Meanwhile, thousands of miles away on the open ocean, a young woman sat on a wooden raft, scrolling through the chat feed with a scowl. 'Unbelievable,' she thought. 'How are there this many shameless people out here? What, is everybody a beggar now?' She flicked the screen again, irritation simmering. 'And don't get me started on that guy who promised me his entire life savings for an antidote. 'I sent it over fair and square. He popped into public chat, dropped a couple half-hearted 'thanks,' and then poof, gone. Straight-up ghosted me. Didn't even toss me a single scrap of wood.' Gwen: [Glowing starfish. Trade for one pound of food or one pint of fresh water, or any practical tools or gear. Multiple colors. First come, first served.] She attached a live photo. On her folding table sat a starfish pulsing a soft electric blue, brighter than a nightlight, throwing a dreamy glow across the black water. [A starfish that glows? That's so beautiful!] [I want one.] [Way better deal than flint. Gimme two.] [Dude, who's speed-clicking these? They're gone already?] The chat spun off into starfish mania, and Ellen Hammond finally let herself breathe. Before this whole mess, she'd been a doctor in training, the kind who runs toward the crash cart on instinct. Helping people was hardwired. But staring at the private messages piling up—each more entitled than the last—she felt it in her bones: the world had shifted. Different rules now. Good thing she'd walked back her earlier claim and said the antidote was a lucky find. If people figured out she could make the stuff, the headache would be a hundred times worse. Riding the wave of attention, Gwen listed the glowing starfish on the trading market and threw another ping into public chat so nobody would miss it. Her handle had been a string of numbers, but when the system asked if she wanted to rename, she swapped it to her real first name. Before this, she had been a regular college kid working her way through med training, no beef with anyone, and whenever she played games she used her actual name because coming up with aliases felt like homework. People hawking flint and brazier in public had priced them into the stratosphere. Most players didn't have that much wood or food on hand, and only a couple had sold. Gwen still had more than thirty glowing starfish, so she marked them to move. If she cleared them out, she could always fish up more tomorrow. She did not expect a feeding frenzy. In under a minute, every last one was gone. Thirty-five glowing starfish netted her fourteen small wheat rolls, two baskets of blueberries, one stick of butter, a can of sweet corn, a small bag of salt, and a dozen-plus 16.9-ounce bottles of water. For now, food and fresh water were not her immediate problems. She was about to close the system panel and crash when a private message popped. Right Side of the Law: [Got any extra glowing starfish? I can trade a weapon.] [Iron Short Dagger] [Quality: common] [A plain little dagger. Good enough for self defense.] Gwen's eyes brightened. The revolver she'd found earlier was a no-go for now, but this dagger would actually see use. Handy for protection, handy for spearing a fish, and no more paying a system cut just to get things done. She fired back fast: [I've got one last starfish. I can trade it to you.] She had a high tolerance for the dark, with or without a nightlight. The trade came through almost instantly. Ding. Dagger acquired. Right Side of the Law was a bit put off. [Why is it blue? I wanted pink.] Gwen looked at the very macho ID, paused, then typed: [I'll fish again tomorrow. If I snag a pink one, I'll square you away with it.] Two glowing starfish for a weapon like this was still a win in her ledger. [Cool,] he replied, and went quiet. She knew if he could casually toss a dagger like that into a trade, he probably had something better on deck. So she was not the only lucky one out here. Gwen flattened her folding chair and stretched out. The night had a chill, so she pulled both sets of sweats from her starter rewards over herself like blankets. She had spent all day hauling salvage and fishing. Her body could take it—only her arms felt heavy—but the mental load was the real drain. One second one was in their life, the next they were in a survival game on a raft with nothing but horizon, no food, no water, and a requirement to improvise or die. Someone fragile, or in a rough headspace, might have gone overboard already. Not Gwen. Even if she were the last person breathing, she was not checking out. She tugged the sweats up to her chin and let her thoughts unspool, ready to drift. That was when the sound hit—low, weird, and wrong, like an electric hum sawing at the edges of the night. Gwen's eyes snapped open. Chapter 5 The First Island The sea was rougher than it had been all day. Gwen pushed herself up and tried to trace the sound. In the washed-out moonlight, a shadow the size of a battleship slid beneath the raft, slow and silent. The swell it kicked up smacked her 43-square-feet platform twice, hard enough to rattle her teeth. Pressure crept in from every direction, something heavy and invisible. Her knee went soft and she nearly toppled. From below came a long, low call, a bass note that felt like it rose from the spine of the ocean. Whale, she thought for a second. Then no. People weren't supposed to hear whale song like that, not raw and close. Set against that thing, her raft was a leaf hitting a pond, flimsy and not worth a second look. Maybe the creature decided the bite wasn't worth the effort, or maybe the newbie-protection rules boxed it in. It lingered a while under the surface, then drifted off like it had all the time in the world. Now she got why everyone was scrambling for anything that made light. In the dark, fear didn't just grow, it multiplied. She spent the night curled in the folding chair. At dawn the sun hauled itself up off the horizon and stabbed her awake. She opened her eyes to a blinding coin hung over endless water. The sea lay flat and windless, glittering like hammered glass. It was calm enough to make last night feel fake. But she trusted her eyes. The water here looked clear, sure, but the blue ran close to black. That meant depth, the kind one measured in chills. She ate a simple breakfast: wheat bread with butter, a few blueberries, and the leftover sashimi from yesterday. That was when she noticed the trick. Inside the Ring of the Undead, time was frozen. Food came out as fresh as it went in. The raft's storage, though, played by normal rules, which meant rot. Lucky she had only tossed two scraps of fish in there. The valuable stuff stayed on her person. She pulled a fishing rod from the ring and set a line while the morning was still kind. With luck she might snag a pearl oyster and upgrade the raft. Her rod had a never-get-skunked buff built in. Other players weren't so lucky, and their bite rates were a joke. Even without pearls, any fish she hauled up could be traded later. After what she saw last night, an upgrade was not optional. Once newbie protection ended, if that thing came back, a raft with durability scraping zero might as well come with a note that said: jump first. While she watched the bobber, she cracked open public chat. Morning or not, it was already blowing up. [Server-wide bounty on a player named Sweltering Nights. He jacked my sister's boat and got her killed. You drop him, I pay five days of food and fresh water, plus one iron ore!] [You gotta be kidding me. System said no PvP during newbie protection. How's anyone pulling a robbery?] [For real. I rolled up on some rando earlier, a transparent shield popped the second I got close. No boarding, period.] [His class is Pirate. He isn't bound by the system's penalties. How is Pirate even a class? Heads up, you see one, do not get soft. It's you or him.] Gwen's stomach dipped. 'So there are other players who've rolled Pirate too?' she thought. Then she breathed and reminded herself she was Ghost Pirate, not the same thing. A legendary ring didn't exactly grow on trees. [Getting drafted into this survival mess is already bad. Now we've got pirates shanking our own? Killing over a handful of supplies, for real?] [Bet they're thugs IRL. If he can straight-up kill like that, dude's probably already done time. Put him down and I won't lose sleep.] [Bro, if I spot him, I'll get justice for your sister. Even if I can't win, I'll drop you the coords.] [Thanks, everyone.] The channel slid into cursing and vows, open season on Pirates. Gwen read in silence. For now, Pirate meant public enemy. Until she had the muscle to back it up, she figured it was smarter not to advertise that she was the Ghost Pirate. No need to hand anyone a reason to dogpile her. Just then, the rod dipped hard and yanked her attention back. She stood, reeled in, and popped the bait out of the water. Another glowing starfish spun on the line, glowing a bright toxic green. She clicked her tongue. 'Wrong color, universe. I need pink, not green.' The Right Side of the Law wanted pink one. She flicked the starfish into her ring for storage. When she looked up, a pinprick of black sat on the far line of the sea, sharp against the moving blue. She pulled out her monocular and took a long look. "An island," she breathed. "No way." Excitement sparked in her chest. This was the first island she had seen, period. H Her raft did not even have a sail. Wherever it drifted, it drifted on the whim of the waves. No one in global chat had bragged about setting foot on an island either. She tamped the rush down, folded her beach chair and sun umbrella, and cleared her view. Through the lens, the island lined up neatly with her drift path. Half an hour later, the raft bobbed within 60 feet of shore. Gwen tied her grappling rope around her waist, clipped the other end tight to the storage chest on the raft, and tugged hard to check it. The chest was bolted straight into the planks. Rock solid. She took a breath and dove. She was no pro, but she could dog paddle and freestyle well enough. Kicking hard, she hauled the raft along. With seawater doing most of the lifting, a 43‑square‑feet raft felt like almost nothing. It was not nearly as tiring as it looked. There was no anchor onboard, and she did not trust the swell. She dragged the raft all the way onto the beach before letting go. A system prompt flickered in her view. [You have discovered an unclaimed island. Explore the island. Locate the Heart of the Island to claim it as your territory.] [Landing limit: 48 hours. If you overstay, you will be removed from the island.] The second message instantly shattered Gwen's little scheme. There went the plan to camp here if it proved safe. An island sounded better than bobbing on open water, but a timer made sense. It was a survival game. If everyone could just squat on an island forever, nobody would risk the sea. Still. The Heart of the Isand. Claim the whole thing. That put a spark in her head. She unhitched the rope from her waist and tied it around a palm trunk to keep the raft from getting snatched by the tide. Then she headed inland, eyes up, taking everything in. The island was not big. Maybe over a square mile, tops. The beach fringe was stacked with palm trees heavy with coconuts. Deeper in, palms gave way to dense shrubs hung with clusters of orange‑yellow fruit, little lanterns glowing in the green. They looked familiar. She picked one, brought it to her nose, and smiled. Sea buckthorn. She knew it from her milkshake shop days. The juice was sweet and tart, perfect when people were thirsty and worn out, easy on the stomach too. She did not start picking. First job was making sure the place would not try to kill her. Suddenly, a soft rustle brushed her ear. Something small and dark shot past her feet. Gwen glanced down and moved on instinct. She lunged, caught it clean, and lifted the squirming thing before it could disappear. Chapter 6 Stickup [You have captured a plump red-shelled coconut crab.] [Red-Shelled Coconut Crab: Tender, edible meat. Shell usable for crafting.] For once, the system actually bothered to dress things up. Gwen weighed the crab in her hand. It was pretty hefty, easily seven or eight pounds. Gwen weighed the crab in her hand. 'Heavy. A solid eight, maybe nine pounds,' she figured. 'Not bad at all.' She'd never eaten coconut crab before. Never had the chance, really. Funny how getting dumped into a survival game was what finally earned her a lifetime seafood buffet. Coconut crabs were slow, clumsy things. Ten minutes later, she had caught five more without breaking a sweat and dumped them neatly into her storage ring. She remembered the documentaries. Coconut crabs usually came out at night, their shells a dull blue-green meant to disappear into shadows. These, though, were bright red, like they had already been boiled. Another reminder that whatever world this was, it played by its own rules. The island itself was small. Gwen pushed through a final wall of brush and emerged near its center. The jungle thinned abruptly, opening into a wide stretch of sand that felt almost desert-like. Something gleamed. Chunks of raw ore rose straight out of the sand, scattered like oversized weeds. Sunlight bounced off the metal, sharp and unmistakable. Gwen froze. 'Iron! And not just a little.' Iron ore was the real bottleneck in the game. One needed it for raft upgrades, and players practically fought over scraps. Most of what existed came from rare loot chests pulled up from the ocean. And here it was, sitting in plain sight on a forgettable little island. 'Jackpot,' Gwen thought, her heart pounding with excitement. Then she spotted the chest. It was nestled among the iron deposits sat a bronze-bound coffer. The copper lock was mottled with rust and barely holding together, tilting just enough to look inviting. Like it was calling out to be opened. Her excitement cooled instead of spiking. 'A chest sitting dead center in an iron field? That is weird. Too convenient,' she mused. 'Could this be a trap?' She started toward it anyway. Behind her, sand shifted softly. Not the lazy scrape of a coconut crab. Something lighter. Intentional. Without turning her head, Gwen flicked her eyes sideways. Near a coconut tree behind her, a shadow clung to the trunk. It was subtle, just a shade darker than it should have been, but it did not belong there. She clocked it instantly. Behind that tree, the player known as Sweltering Nights tightened his grip on a slim knife. 'Seriously? I barely moved my foot. Is she some kind of paranoid freak, or just stupidly sharp?' he thought. He watched her posture. No sudden movements. No weapons drawn. She kept strolling toward the chest like nothing had happened. He exhaled, slow and relieved. 'Guess I was overthinking it,' he thought. 'Anyone with a pulse would lose their mind over a chest that size. Nobody would pay attention to a little background noise.' Gwen's back was wide open now. Greed flickered across his eyes. 'Let her open it first. Once she pops that chest, I'm cashing in again today.' Gwen stopped in front of the chest and leaned closer, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "Just sitting out here like this…" she muttered. "Feels like it belongs to someone already. Yeah, no. Probably shouldn't mess with other people's stuff." 'Wait. What?' Sweltering Nights nearly choked. 'Did she seriously just say that? 'Who does that? Who sees a treasure chest and decides to walk away? Was she bugged? Glitched? Or just plain nuts?' He couldn't hold it in. He sprang from behind a tree, blade catching the light as he aimed the tip right at her throat. "Robbery! Hand it over!" he barked. Gwen flinched for show, but her gaze slipped over the ragged-looking guy in front of her. In her left eye, a neat little panel blinked to life. [Player ID: Sweltering Nights] [Class: Pirate] [Sin Points: 30] [Bounty: 100 Shell Tokens] [Upgrade Captain Malcolm's Eyepatch to reveal more hidden info.] Sweltering Nights. She knew that tag. He was the pirate everyone tore into on global chat this morning. 'What are the odds,' she thought. "Dump your supplies," he said, licking salt-dry lips, "and maybe I let you walk." He was already counting his winnings. An empty island and a soft target delivered to him. He was already counting his winnings. An empty island and a soft target delivered to him. Ever since he robbed his first player, he'd learned how sweet the pirate life ran. Folks combed the sea for days for scraps, but one good blade got him more in a minute. His eyes dragged over Gwen's face. Way prettier than the last one he hit. 'If she plays nice and coughs up her haul, maybe I'll tie her up and take her back to the boat for a little entertainment,' he thought. The second that dirty thought formed, Gwen vanished. One heartbeat she was there. The next, the back of his neck turned to ice. Gwen stood behind him with a rough iron dagger snug against his throat. The whole scene flipped in a blink. "Now this is a robbery," Gwen said, cool as a tide pool. "H-How..." Sweltering Nights stared, eyes going wide. 'What the hell is she, a mage? How did she pull that off? Disappear here, pop up there, no normal person can do that,' he thought, his mind spinning. 'Wait, she has to have some special class, some skill firing at the right moment. 'Damn it, I let my guard down.' "Dump your supplies," Gwen said flatly, her face giving away nothing at all. "Do that, and I'll make sure you die quick. No pain." He froze. 'Wasn't that my line just a second ago? Only she's colder than me, and she isn't even pretending I get to walk out of here.' Sweltering Nights gritted his teeth. "I screwed up, alright? My bad. I'll give you all my supplies, every bit. Just let me go, yeah? Only pirates can loot a player's ship. If you kill me, you get nothing." He wasn't bluffing. The system's newbie protection covered ships, not two people standing on a beach. If they were on board, Gwen couldn't have touched him. Before he came ashore, he left the good stuff on his raft, just in case. If she killed him now, she walked away empty-handed. Gwen didn't answer. She drove her knee straight into his spine. He face-planted, mouth full of sand, hacking and gagging. For someone so slim, she hit like a truck. One knee and his stomach lurched hard enough to bring up lunch. Pinned and dazed, he felt her knife saw through his jacket. She yanked it off him in a single pull. For a split second he panicked. 'Did I seriously just run and face-first into a man-eater? Would've been nice to get a heads-up. 'If it keeps me breathing, I could, you know, make a little personal sacrifice.' Nope. Not even close. Gwen moved fast, ripping strips from his clothes and cinching his wrists and ankles tight. Her grappling line was already tied to the raft, so fabric was the only rope on hand. She wasn't about to slice up her own gear. His would do. "Crawl over there. Open the chest," Gwen said. -------------------------------------------------- There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)
🔥😱Gwen Swann never expected to be stranded on a raft in the middle of the ocean. Somehow, there were billions of people in the same situation as her, having been transported by a system which forced them to survive in the seas. It was a game and only the toughest and smartest would come out top. Unlike others who started complaining, unable to wrap their heads what was happening, Gwen started taking stock of what she had and got a move on. There was no time to lose when everyone was fighting for resources. Fortunately for her, she seemed to be having a stroke of luck, and the ocean blessed her with rich pickings. Soon, she was making trades and befriending other players. But as time passed, things took a darker turn. Gwen would soon realize this wasn't merely a game. There would be times when she had to kill or be killed herself… ------------------------------------------- Chapter 1 Raft Survival: Global Edition The sky above Gwen Swann was a clean, endless blue. No clouds. No contrails. Under her, the ocean went on forever, a dark mouth that did not blink. She sat on a raft barely 43 square feet in area. No land. No boats. No gulls. Just water and the slap of waves. The spray soaked her jeans and the fabric stuck cold to her legs, like the sea was claiming her piece by piece. Gwen stared ahead, her mind completely blank. She was pretty sure that five minutes ago, she'd been at the office, half-dead from overtime, staring at a spreadsheet and wondering if coffee counted as dinner. Gwen thought, 'Kidnapped? By who, exactly. 'I am a soft target with nothing to my name. What, someone hauled me out here to inherit my student loans and maxed-out Visa?' A translucent screen flickered into view at the corner of her vision, like a heads-up display from a game. Lines of text scrolled by. [Global Chat]: [Okay, no joke, where the hell are we?] [I was literally about to clutch a pentakill and now I'm in the ocean. This has to be a prank.] [Someone tell me I'm dreaming. Or knock me out. Either works.] [Is anyone else here actually real? I don't see a single person.] [I'm gonna throw up. I get seasick on this boat. This is not funny.] [Bro, calling this thing a boat is generous. My dog's crate is bigger.] [Seasick? Try having deep-sea phobia. I swear something huge just swam under my raft.] [Nana, if you're watching from heaven, please don't let me die like this!] Gwen exhaled quietly. 'Good. I am not alone. At least this nightmare has company.' The chat continued to dissolve into chaos, but before she could read more, another voice cut through everything. Cold. Flat. Inhuman. It didn't come from the screen. It came from inside her head. [Congratulations. You have entered the Ocean Survival Game. Player ID: 29,786,510. [All five billion players have successfully entered the game. The Grand Sea Route is now officially open. Please remember the following navigation rules. [From this point forward, your life will take place at sea. You may collect resources by salvaging floating debris, fishing, and exploring islands in order to upgrade your vessel and survive. [During the New Player Protection Period, players are prohibited from attacking one another. Violations will result in system penalties. [The New Player Protection Period lasts three days. During this time, overall difficulty is significantly reduced. Use this window wisely and gather supplies as quickly as possible. [You have one life. Please do not waste it. [After the protection period ends, the global event "Ocean Storm" will begin. [Warning: the storm will destroy all vessels with a Sturdiness Value below five. Upgrade your ship to ensure survival. [A Beginner Blind Box has been delivered to your vessel. Happy sailing.] Right on cue, something dropped from above. A small wooden box hit the raft with a dull thump and slid to a stop near Gwen's feet. A large question mark was painted on the lid. So this was the so-called Beginner Blind Box. Only then did she notice the rest of her starting equipment. A fishing rod lay near the edge of the raft, old enough to look like it had lived several past lives. Next to it sat an iron grappling hook, spotted with rust and tied to a fraying rope. The moment she focused on them, translucent stat panels popped up in front of her eyes. [Worn Fishing Rod] [Quality: Poor] [Description: Standard beginner item. Everyone gets one. Can be used for fishing.] [Worn Throwing Hook] [Quality: Poor] [Everyone gets one of these starter tools. Use it to snag whatever junk's floating by on the waves.] [Dilapidated Wooden Raft] [Sturdiness: 1 (May fall apart at any time.)] [Speed: 0 (It's a busted raft. Manage your expectations.)] [Storage Capacity: 0/10 slots] [Durability: 100/100] [Upgrade requirements: 20 Wood, 10 Cloth, 10 Seaweeds, 1 Iron Ore, 1 Dull Pearl.] [(Upgrade unavailable. Insufficient materials.)] After reading through the raft's stats, Gwen finally understood just how bad things were. Five billion people around the world had been dumped into this so-called survival game. Everyone started the same way. One useless raft. No food. No fresh water. And a three-day countdown. Technically, a person could survive about a week without food if they were careful. But the ocean storm coming in three days would wipe out this raft without even trying. A structural rating of one might as well be a death sentence. If she wanted to live, upgrading this floating pile of wood wasn't optional. It was everything. Gwen had never been the kind of person who wasted energy complaining about fate. When she realized something couldn't be changed, she made the only sensible choice. She adapted, and she did it fast. That was how the world worked. Survival of the fittest. The strong stayed standing, and everyone else got swept aside. She understood that rule instinctively. So while the global chat was still packed with people shouting, whining, and melting down in real time, Gwen was already moving, quietly collecting whatever she could get her hands on. She wrapped the rope of the throwing hook securely around her wrist and locked onto a wooden plank drifting about fifteen feet straight ahead. The metal hook sliced through the air with a sharp whistle. It grazed the edge of the plank and missed. The hook splashed into the water and vanished beneath the surface, swallowed whole by the sea. Gwen pulled the rope, reeling the hook back in. She had underestimated how fast the hook traveled, and she hadn't accounted for the way the current nudged floating debris forward. Lesson learned. On the second throw, she adjusted her timing and released. The hook landed squarely in the middle of the plank. Nailed it. She hauled it in and noticed a strip of bright green seaweed tangled around the bottom. [Item acquired: 1 Wood, 1 Seaweed] A buy-one-get-one deal. She wasn't complaining. Everything she collected was automatically transferred into the raft's storage. A notification popped up as the capacity updated to 2 out of 500. No breaks. Gwen's eyes were already on the next piece of debris. [Wood+1] [Cloth +1] [Seaweed +1] ***** Three hours later, Gwen barely had to think about it anymore. Her wrist felt sore, sure, but her accuracy was ridiculous. Anything she aimed at might as well have been glued to the hook. Misses were rare. She checked her inventory. Twenty three pieces of wood. Eleven cloth. Ten seaweed. That was enough to upgrade the raft. What she still needed was iron ore and that dull-looking pearl. And she had no clue where either of those came from. Out of curiosity, she glanced back at the global chat. The conversation had moved on. Everyone was now arguing about the newbie loot boxes. [Are you kidding me? Five pieces of wood. That's it?] [I got two bottles of water. Best day of my life. I was about to pass out.] [Five wood gang here.] [Same. Five wood.] [Same here.] [So the devs really went full gacha scam on us, huh?] [This is supposed to be a starter reward, not a slap in the face.] [Cry more. Check out what I pulled.] One message stood out immediately. Someone had posted a full item card. [Shark Tooth Dagger] [Quality: Common] [A dagger made from shark teeth. Sharp enough. Deals double damage to sharks.] 'Wait, weapons are in the loot boxes too?' Gwen thought, surprised. Gwen scrolled. Weapon pulls were rare. Most people got basic materials. Some luckier players scored food, fresh water, binoculars, or flint. One insanely lucky player claimed they had pulled one hundred dull pearls. Gwen's eyes narrowed. The raft upgrade required one pearl. She still had no idea how to get one, and it was obvious these were way more valuable than wood or cloth. The pearl guy wasted no time. [Selling extra pearls. One pearl for 200 wood, cloth, or seaweed.] [Two hundred wood for one pearl? Just mug us next time.] [I fished up a giant oyster with the starter rod. Cracked it open, pearl inside. If you want pearls, go fishing.] [Fishing my ass. I've been sitting here for an hour and nothing's biting.] [Same. Didn't catch a thing and almost fell in.] [Basic fishing tip. You need bait. I tore off a piece of bread from a loot box, tied it to the hook, instant fish.] [So what you're saying is I need food to get food?] [No bait means no fish. No fish means no food. This game is evil.] [Selling one piece of wheat bread, 150 grams, for 200 wood. First come, first served.] [Dude, that's even worse than the pearl guy.] [I would rather starve than trade my pride for bread.] [Trading newbie blind box for five pieces of wheat bread.] [People are selling blind boxes already?] [My luck sucks anyway. Five wood isn't doing me any favors.] Everyone was brand new, all stuck with the same problems. No food. No water. The moment someone had extras, prices went through the roof. Gwen felt the faint tug of hunger in her stomach after hours of work, but it was manageable. She wasn't desperate yet. Trading valuable resources for food now would just mean grinding for someone else's benefit. She picked up the blind box resting on the raft. Trading it for bread was probably the smart move. Still, Gwen hesitated. Compared to five pieces of wood, taking a shot at luck didn't seem like the worst idea in the world. Chapter 2 The Legendary Rod Gwen worked a thumb under the seal and muttered a quick prayer to the loot gods. 'Not lumber. Please not lumber. If it isn't a weapon, let it be food.' The box popped, and a long, slender rod shimmered into her hand. [Lucky Octo Fishing Rod] [Quality: Legendary] [Comes with a jelly octopus lure that gives off a strange scent and has ridiculous suction. Guarantees a bite with every cast and greatly increases your odds of pulling rare fish and rare items. [Fair warning: certain uncanny creatures are also drawn to it. Use with care. [Anglers never get skunked!] Gwen's eyes lit up. 'Talk about perfect timing. With a rod that comes with its own bait, I don't have to worry about finding any myself.' And it was legendary. Back home she had dabbled in those cheesy pay to win MMOs where numbers fly off mobs like confetti. Legendary sounded a whole lot sweeter than the common dagger people were flexing in global chat. Shame it was a fishing rod. She would have killed for something she could swing. Still, no sense getting greedy. Compared to the poor souls who drew five planks, this was an S tier start. She gave the rod a closer look. The build was miles ahead of the starter stick, with fancy scrollwork carved into the grip. A clear little octopus hung at the end of the line, glossy and wobbly like a gummy candy. She tapped it with a fingertip. The tiny octopus twitched, then latched on with all eight arms. Okay, that suction was no joke. She couldn't peel it off. Gwen muttered, "Easy there, buddy. Let go." She rapped it gently on the head with her other hand. The octopus seemed to realize it had the wrong target and unhooked itself, almost apologetic. Gwen faced the open water, set her stance, and sent the line out in a clean, pretty arc. Legendary or not, she fully expected a bite. That warning about uncanny creatures in the description went straight into the mental trash. 'When your stomach is filing complaints, you do not worry about sea spooks. If it is edible, it is eligible,' Gwen scoffed to herself. Two minutes had not even passed when the float snapped under and vanished. Her wrist dipped. The rod bowed into a tidy arc under the pull. Fish on. The fight was nothing. She hauled up in one smooth motion and slapped a small, silver bright fish onto the raft. Its tail drummed the boards like a snare. [You obtained: Jack Mackerel x1] [Auto dismantle? (System processing reduces yield.) ] She hit Yes. No tools, no way to deal with guts, and she was not about to chew the thing whole like a seal. [You obtained: Jack Mackerel Fillet x3] She weighed the slices in her palm. The fish had to be about a pound, and after the system took its cut, more than a third had evaporated. Highway robbery. Gwen clicked her tongue. Yeah, no. She decided once she had decent tools, she would clean her catch herself. No more letting the system skim her dinner. Her stomach chimed in again. She raised a piece of raw fillet and took a bite. The texture was soft and tender, almost creamy, with a faint sweetness that lingered after she swallowed. 'Fresh caught hits different,' Gwen thought, savoring the flavor. She polished off the fillets in a few quick bites. Maybe half full. The fish had been way too small. She wrapped her fingers tighter around the rod and cast again. 'With a rod that literally never come up empty, food is the least of my worries, right?' Not long after, the bobber dipped. Another bite. She reeled it in with barely any effort. The sun was sinking fast, the light thinning into dusk. Whatever was on the hook gleamed against the darkening water, and for a split second she thought she had struck it rich. Then she leaned closer. A starfish. [Glowing Starfish] [Inedible. Emits light at night. Can be used as an adorable bedside lamp.] Gwen stared at it, the corners of her mouth twitching. 'Awesome,' she thought. 'Real cute. Totally useless.' It didn't struggle or try to crawl away, so she dumped it off to the side of the raft. After that, things went completely sideways. She caught two more horse mackerel and one sea bream. Everything else was glowing starfish. Blue ones. Green ones. Pink ones. They stacked up until half the raft was covered, like they had organized a group outing and decided her hook was the place to be. Gwen squinted at the pile and sighed. 'Did I drop anchor in a starfish daycare or what?' The night sky was pitch black, no moon, no stars. The heap of glowing starfish became the only light around, colors weaving together and shifting constantly. Blue, green, pink, purple, all bleeding into each other. Her face, her hands, even the wooden planks under her boots were washed in that unreal glow. The light spilled out onto the surrounding sea, making it look like the raft was drifting through a magical field of stars. There was no sail, but the raft kept moving with the current. Maybe she really had drifted straight into their territory. That would explain a lot. She rubbed her sore wrist just as a familiar system chime sounded. [Heads up, players: It is now 11:00 p.m. Between 11:00 p.m. and 5:00 a.m., the chance of catching eerie creatures and special items is doubled. We recommend getting proper rest. Staying up late is bad for your health.] Three fish. All small. That was the entire haul. Not great. She needed enough to eat tomorrow, and she had hoped to trade extra fish for fresh water with other players. The system's cheerful warning made her uneasy. Gwen exhaled slowly. 'One last cast,' she told herself. 'If it's another glow stick with legs, I'm done for the night.' She cast again. A few minutes passed, then her rod dipped hard. This time the weight nearly yanked it from her hands. Now that was more like it. Sixty pounds at least. Probably more. She braced her feet and started reeling, a grin breaking through. Finally. Anything but another starfish. Gwen had always been strong. As a kid she dominated both sprints and distance runs. In college she could hoist a full water jug with one hand, no problem. When she rolled up her sleeves, muscle lines stood out clear as day. She gave the line a sharp tug and frowned. Whatever she had hooked was not fighting back. No thrashing. No pull. Just dead weight. "Don't tell me I snagged a rock,' she thought. 'Maybe coral.' She reeled it in steadily and dragged it up alongside the raft. Then she grabbed it with both hands and hauled it aboard. It turned out to be a wine barrel, easily half as tall as she was. Gwen didn't open it right away. She leaned in and knocked on the lid, listening. Nothing moved. Satisfied, she slid a wooden plank into the seam and pried. The lid popped loose, and a wave of stale, rotten air rushed out. Gwen pinched her nose and leaned over to look inside. Curled within the barrel was a complete human skeleton. The skull wore a wide-brimmed pirate tricorn, complete with an eyepatch. The left hand still clutched a rusted revolver. On the right hand, something caught the light, flashing brightly on a finger bone. It was a ring. Chapter 3 The Legacy Of A Special Profession Out on the open ocean in the middle of the night, the moon threw a cold wash of light into the barrel and turned those bones paper white. The empty sockets stared at Gwen. Creepy, sure, if one scared easy. Gwen didn't. She lifted an eyebrow, more bored than bothered. 'Please,' she thought, 'it's a skeleton. Back when it was breathing, it couldn't have gone one round with me. Now that it's dead, I'm not losing a wink of sleep.' She reached in and fished out the soaked pirate hat. [Captain Malcolm's Pirate Hat] [Quality: uncommon (Damaged, repairable)] [A swaggering captain's hat that radiates command presence. While worn, crewwide morale +1 when you issue orders.] Not bad. Better tier than that shark-tooth dagger folks had been flexing in global chat. She checked the pistol, then the ring. [Rusted Revolver] [Quality: Uncommon (Damaged, repairable)] [Just your average revolver, but after soaking in seawater for years, the barrel's rusted and the aim's not what it used to be.] The revolver was the same tier as the hat, both out of commission until she fixed them. Her eyes slid to the ring, and that was it. Hooked. [Ring of the Undead] [Quality: Legendary] [Wearing this triggers the Ghost Pirate class inheritance. Cannot be removed.] [Curse: Upon death you will become a skeleton; your soul will not find rest.] [Includes 1,000-slot storage.] (Item rarity, low to high: Poor - Common - Uncommon - Rare - Epic- Unique - Legendary) Gwen held her breath, grinning despite herself. Another Legendary. She had no clue what a Ghost Pirate did, but Legendary meant heavy hitters. Plus a thousand storage slots. Her raft had, what, ten? The curse? Please. In a survival game this rough, most players were lucky to make it a few days. To her, worrying about the afterlife felt like putting a roof on a house one hadn't framed yet. She slid the ring on without hesitation. [You have obtained a special class: Ghost Pirate.] [You have acquired the class skills Spectral Footwork and Bone Reanimation.] [Spectral Footwork: Your movement becomes spectral; no one can pin you down. Blink to any point within 33 feet. Costs 10 magic points. Cooldown: 30 minutes.] [Bone Reanimation: Stir bones back to motion as your loyal minion. Costs 100 mana. (Requires bones to be at least 80% intact.)] [Congratulations! You are the first player on the server to obtain a special class. Reward: System Blind Box x1. It will be airdropped to your raft shortly.] A wooden crate stamped with question marks thumped onto the raft out of thin air. Gwen barely looked at it. She was too busy savoring the jackpot. Spectral Footwork was the perfect panic button, pure blink-and-you-missed-it. Bone Reanimation sounded downright busted in the best way. 'Raise bones? Seriously? So if I grab enough bones, do I get to field my own skeleton army?' The idea hit her like a wave, ridiculous and thrilling in equal measure. Her eyes slid to the bones stuffed in the wine barrel. 'Look at that. A starter kit, already assembled.' She tried Bone Reanimation. [Skill activation failed. Insufficient magic points.] 'Magic points?' She blinked. Back in college, she had mainlined power-fantasy web serials, so the term rang a bell. She flicked through the system overlay until she found a tucked-away character sheet. [ID: Player #29786510] [Title: None] [Class: Ghost Pirate, Tier 1 (upgrade requires reviving 10 skeletons, progress 0/10)] [Constitution: 5 (affects disease resistance, toughness, and HP, 1 point = 10 HP)] [Strength: 7 (affects how much weight you can lift.)] [Agility: 6 (affects speed and flexibility.)] [Intelligence: 8 (affects mana capacity and mana recovery, 1 point = 10 magic points.)] [Luck: Hidden (affects treasure finds and the odds of good breaks.)] [Charisma: Hidden (affects NPC attitudes toward you.)] [HP: 50] [Magic Points: 80] [Skills: Spectral Footwork, Bone Reanimation.] That cleared it up. Magic points scaled off Intelligence. She was going to need to bump INT to at least ten. She checked the pirate hat and the revolver next. The hat needed a Tailor class and five pieces of cloth to repair. The revolver wanted a Blacksmith class, two iron ore, and, naturally, bullets. Which meant both items were benched for now. She packed every resource into the Ring of the Undead. Her overloaded raft suddenly had room to breathe. The barrel and the skeleton were still hogging space, so she tried to stash those too. The next second, a black eyepatch tumbled out and landed by her foot. She picked it up, surprised. The skull's eyepatch wasn't just a prop. It was gear, and she had almost missed it. [Captain Malcolm's Eyepatch] [Quality: Unique (Upgradable)] [Effect: Lets the wearer read basic player info. A reliable companion for wholesome activities like piracy, robbery, and doing crimes with style. Also looks cool. A pirate without an eyepatch is just a guy in a hat.] That was way too useful to pass up. She slipped it on. Her left eye went dark, her world narrowed, and the lack of depth felt weird. Then she spotted a Hide Appearance toggle in the UI, tapped it, and the eyepatch vanished while her vision snapped back to normal. 'Nice quality-of-life touch,' she thought. Otherwise she might as well tattoo "I'm a pirate" on her forehead. A Lucky Octo Fishing Rod, the Ring of the Undead, and now an eyepatch like a cheat code. The game had been live for a single day and she already had three pieces of Unique-grade gear or better. "Unique" meant one of one across the entire server. As in, only hers. "Luck" was listed as hidden, sure, but she was pretty confident her number there wasn't small. Riding the hot streak, she cracked open the system's loot box. [1 Monocular Telescope, 2 Sun-Protective Sports Outfits, 1 Fisherman's Happy Folding Kit, 1 Mysterious Fruit, 10 Global Chat Megaphones, 10 Coconuts, 10 Straws] Hard to say if this haul was statistically blessed without a leaderboard, but the stuff itself was solid. The telescope and sunproof clothing were gold on open water. Better yet, she had drinkable liquid. Ten coconuts would keep her hydrated for three or four days. The Fisherman's Happy Folding Kit was a sun umbrella, a folding chair, a little folding table, a fish basket, and a landing net. Her raft was about forty square feet, just big enough to pop open the chair and table. Which meant tonight she didn't have to sleep on bare planks. That felt like a win. Each player got ten messages a day on the global chat. Anything beyond that needed a megaphone item. Gwen wasn't big on global chatter, so those megaphones were the least useful thing in the pile. Which left one last item staring up at her. The mysterious fruit. Chapter 4 Glowing Starfish Sells Out The Mysterious Fruit was about the size of an apple, but that was where the familiarity ended. The whole thing was an unnatural shade of blue, with strange spiral patterns etched across the skin. It looked less like food and more like something pulled straight out of a cartoon fantasy series. Blue was not a hunger-friendly color. Just holding it made Gwen doubt her life choices. Still, this had come from a system blind box. She was sure the game was not going to hand her a reward and quietly kill her with it. Probably. She closed her eyes, steeled herself, and took a bite. 'Huh. It is actually… fine,' she thought. A little like a blueberry and an apple had teamed up and decided to be refreshing. The moment she swallowed, a crisp notification chimed in her head. [You have consumed a Mysterious Fruit. Intelligence +1.] Gwen's eyes snapped open. 'Seriously? Right when I needed it?' She had been worrying five minutes ago about how to raise her Intelligence stat, and now the game just dropped the answer into her lap. Or rather, into her mouth. Of course, she knew better than to get used to it. This fruit had come from a system blind box she earned by hitting first place server-wide. That kind of luck did not exactly grow on trees. By the time she finished marveling at it, the clock was creeping toward midnight. Before calling it a night, Gwen casually opened the global chat. And immediately regretted it. [It's pitch black out here. Someone help. I hate tight spaces and the ocean is freaking me out!] [Trading fresh water for anything that gives light.] [One flint for one hundred wood. Or food and water. I'm flexible.] [A hundred wood? You out of your mind?] [Pulled a wooden crate while salvaging. Got a brazier blueprint. I can craft braziers for people. Materials are five charcoal, ten wood. Crafting fee is one iron ore.] [Iron ore is harder to find than food. If I had ore, I would upgrade my raft. Anyone got extra?] Gwen blinked. 'Flint and braziers are already this hot?' She glanced at the folding table beside her raft. The glowing starfish sat there quietly, glowing with a soft blue light, steady and warm like a night lamp. If people were desperate for light, this little thing could easily put a brazier to shame. Another message exploded into the chat. [Do not fish at night. I hooked a sea snake and it bit me. I'm poisoned and my HP is dropping nonstop. I'm almost dead. Does anyone have an antidote potion? I'll trade everything I own!] [Antidotes are insanely rare. No one is giving that up.] [Yeah, that stuff saves your life. No amount of resources is worth it.] The mockery came fast, piling on without mercy. Then one message cut through the noise. Wind in the Night: [I have one. I don't need it right now. I'll trade it to you. Saving a life matters.] Gwen froze for a second. 'Wow. People like that still exist?' [Oh my god, thank you. You're a saint. I owe you big time, seriously!] The gratitude barely finished before the floodgates opened. [Hey, boss, got any food? Haven't eaten all day, I'm dying here.] [Bro, I'm completely out of fresh water. My throat feels like sandpaper. Can you spare a little? Half a bottle even?] [Wait, do you have another antidote? I got bit too. I'm dizzy, can't see straight. I think I'm done for.] The chat went absolutely feral, messages flying so fast they blurred together. Gwen sighed and shook her head. 'Kindness itself is not a mistake. But in a survival game where everyone is one bad decision away from death, being too kind was just another way to paint a target on your back.' A moment later, Wind in the Night replied again: [Sorry, guys. I don't have much. I only found that one antidote in a salvage crate.] ***** Meanwhile, thousands of miles away on the open ocean, a young woman sat on a wooden raft, scrolling through the chat feed with a scowl. 'Unbelievable,' she thought. 'How are there this many shameless people out here? What, is everybody a beggar now?' She flicked the screen again, irritation simmering. 'And don't get me started on that guy who promised me his entire life savings for an antidote. 'I sent it over fair and square. He popped into public chat, dropped a couple half-hearted 'thanks,' and then poof, gone. Straight-up ghosted me. Didn't even toss me a single scrap of wood.' Gwen: [Glowing starfish. Trade for one pound of food or one pint of fresh water, or any practical tools or gear. Multiple colors. First come, first served.] She attached a live photo. On her folding table sat a starfish pulsing a soft electric blue, brighter than a nightlight, throwing a dreamy glow across the black water. [A starfish that glows? That's so beautiful!] [I want one.] [Way better deal than flint. Gimme two.] [Dude, who's speed-clicking these? They're gone already?] The chat spun off into starfish mania, and Ellen Hammond finally let herself breathe. Before this whole mess, she'd been a doctor in training, the kind who runs toward the crash cart on instinct. Helping people was hardwired. But staring at the private messages piling up—each more entitled than the last—she felt it in her bones: the world had shifted. Different rules now. Good thing she'd walked back her earlier claim and said the antidote was a lucky find. If people figured out she could make the stuff, the headache would be a hundred times worse. Riding the wave of attention, Gwen listed the glowing starfish on the trading market and threw another ping into public chat so nobody would miss it. Her handle had been a string of numbers, but when the system asked if she wanted to rename, she swapped it to her real first name. Before this, she had been a regular college kid working her way through med training, no beef with anyone, and whenever she played games she used her actual name because coming up with aliases felt like homework. People hawking flint and brazier in public had priced them into the stratosphere. Most players didn't have that much wood or food on hand, and only a couple had sold. Gwen still had more than thirty glowing starfish, so she marked them to move. If she cleared them out, she could always fish up more tomorrow. She did not expect a feeding frenzy. In under a minute, every last one was gone. Thirty-five glowing starfish netted her fourteen small wheat rolls, two baskets of blueberries, one stick of butter, a can of sweet corn, a small bag of salt, and a dozen-plus 16.9-ounce bottles of water. For now, food and fresh water were not her immediate problems. She was about to close the system panel and crash when a private message popped. Right Side of the Law: [Got any extra glowing starfish? I can trade a weapon.] [Iron Short Dagger] [Quality: common] [A plain little dagger. Good enough for self defense.] Gwen's eyes brightened. The revolver she'd found earlier was a no-go for now, but this dagger would actually see use. Handy for protection, handy for spearing a fish, and no more paying a system cut just to get things done. She fired back fast: [I've got one last starfish. I can trade it to you.] She had a high tolerance for the dark, with or without a nightlight. The trade came through almost instantly. Ding. Dagger acquired. Right Side of the Law was a bit put off. [Why is it blue? I wanted pink.] Gwen looked at the very macho ID, paused, then typed: [I'll fish again tomorrow. If I snag a pink one, I'll square you away with it.] Two glowing starfish for a weapon like this was still a win in her ledger. [Cool,] he replied, and went quiet. She knew if he could casually toss a dagger like that into a trade, he probably had something better on deck. So she was not the only lucky one out here. Gwen flattened her folding chair and stretched out. The night had a chill, so she pulled both sets of sweats from her starter rewards over herself like blankets. She had spent all day hauling salvage and fishing. Her body could take it—only her arms felt heavy—but the mental load was the real drain. One second one was in their life, the next they were in a survival game on a raft with nothing but horizon, no food, no water, and a requirement to improvise or die. Someone fragile, or in a rough headspace, might have gone overboard already. Not Gwen. Even if she were the last person breathing, she was not checking out. She tugged the sweats up to her chin and let her thoughts unspool, ready to drift. That was when the sound hit—low, weird, and wrong, like an electric hum sawing at the edges of the night. Gwen's eyes snapped open. Chapter 5 The First Island The sea was rougher than it had been all day. Gwen pushed herself up and tried to trace the sound. In the washed-out moonlight, a shadow the size of a battleship slid beneath the raft, slow and silent. The swell it kicked up smacked her 43-square-feet platform twice, hard enough to rattle her teeth. Pressure crept in from every direction, something heavy and invisible. Her knee went soft and she nearly toppled. From below came a long, low call, a bass note that felt like it rose from the spine of the ocean. Whale, she thought for a second. Then no. People weren't supposed to hear whale song like that, not raw and close. Set against that thing, her raft was a leaf hitting a pond, flimsy and not worth a second look. Maybe the creature decided the bite wasn't worth the effort, or maybe the newbie-protection rules boxed it in. It lingered a while under the surface, then drifted off like it had all the time in the world. Now she got why everyone was scrambling for anything that made light. In the dark, fear didn't just grow, it multiplied. She spent the night curled in the folding chair. At dawn the sun hauled itself up off the horizon and stabbed her awake. She opened her eyes to a blinding coin hung over endless water. The sea lay flat and windless, glittering like hammered glass. It was calm enough to make last night feel fake. But she trusted her eyes. The water here looked clear, sure, but the blue ran close to black. That meant depth, the kind one measured in chills. She ate a simple breakfast: wheat bread with butter, a few blueberries, and the leftover sashimi from yesterday. That was when she noticed the trick. Inside the Ring of the Undead, time was frozen. Food came out as fresh as it went in. The raft's storage, though, played by normal rules, which meant rot. Lucky she had only tossed two scraps of fish in there. The valuable stuff stayed on her person. She pulled a fishing rod from the ring and set a line while the morning was still kind. With luck she might snag a pearl oyster and upgrade the raft. Her rod had a never-get-skunked buff built in. Other players weren't so lucky, and their bite rates were a joke. Even without pearls, any fish she hauled up could be traded later. After what she saw last night, an upgrade was not optional. Once newbie protection ended, if that thing came back, a raft with durability scraping zero might as well come with a note that said: jump first. While she watched the bobber, she cracked open public chat. Morning or not, it was already blowing up. [Server-wide bounty on a player named Sweltering Nights. He jacked my sister's boat and got her killed. You drop him, I pay five days of food and fresh water, plus one iron ore!] [You gotta be kidding me. System said no PvP during newbie protection. How's anyone pulling a robbery?] [For real. I rolled up on some rando earlier, a transparent shield popped the second I got close. No boarding, period.] [His class is Pirate. He isn't bound by the system's penalties. How is Pirate even a class? Heads up, you see one, do not get soft. It's you or him.] Gwen's stomach dipped. 'So there are other players who've rolled Pirate too?' she thought. Then she breathed and reminded herself she was Ghost Pirate, not the same thing. A legendary ring didn't exactly grow on trees. [Getting drafted into this survival mess is already bad. Now we've got pirates shanking our own? Killing over a handful of supplies, for real?] [Bet they're thugs IRL. If he can straight-up kill like that, dude's probably already done time. Put him down and I won't lose sleep.] [Bro, if I spot him, I'll get justice for your sister. Even if I can't win, I'll drop you the coords.] [Thanks, everyone.] The channel slid into cursing and vows, open season on Pirates. Gwen read in silence. For now, Pirate meant public enemy. Until she had the muscle to back it up, she figured it was smarter not to advertise that she was the Ghost Pirate. No need to hand anyone a reason to dogpile her. Just then, the rod dipped hard and yanked her attention back. She stood, reeled in, and popped the bait out of the water. Another glowing starfish spun on the line, glowing a bright toxic green. She clicked her tongue. 'Wrong color, universe. I need pink, not green.' The Right Side of the Law wanted pink one. She flicked the starfish into her ring for storage. When she looked up, a pinprick of black sat on the far line of the sea, sharp against the moving blue. She pulled out her monocular and took a long look. "An island," she breathed. "No way." Excitement sparked in her chest. This was the first island she had seen, period. H Her raft did not even have a sail. Wherever it drifted, it drifted on the whim of the waves. No one in global chat had bragged about setting foot on an island either. She tamped the rush down, folded her beach chair and sun umbrella, and cleared her view. Through the lens, the island lined up neatly with her drift path. Half an hour later, the raft bobbed within 60 feet of shore. Gwen tied her grappling rope around her waist, clipped the other end tight to the storage chest on the raft, and tugged hard to check it. The chest was bolted straight into the planks. Rock solid. She took a breath and dove. She was no pro, but she could dog paddle and freestyle well enough. Kicking hard, she hauled the raft along. With seawater doing most of the lifting, a 43‑square‑feet raft felt like almost nothing. It was not nearly as tiring as it looked. There was no anchor onboard, and she did not trust the swell. She dragged the raft all the way onto the beach before letting go. A system prompt flickered in her view. [You have discovered an unclaimed island. Explore the island. Locate the Heart of the Island to claim it as your territory.] [Landing limit: 48 hours. If you overstay, you will be removed from the island.] The second message instantly shattered Gwen's little scheme. There went the plan to camp here if it proved safe. An island sounded better than bobbing on open water, but a timer made sense. It was a survival game. If everyone could just squat on an island forever, nobody would risk the sea. Still. The Heart of the Isand. Claim the whole thing. That put a spark in her head. She unhitched the rope from her waist and tied it around a palm trunk to keep the raft from getting snatched by the tide. Then she headed inland, eyes up, taking everything in. The island was not big. Maybe over a square mile, tops. The beach fringe was stacked with palm trees heavy with coconuts. Deeper in, palms gave way to dense shrubs hung with clusters of orange‑yellow fruit, little lanterns glowing in the green. They looked familiar. She picked one, brought it to her nose, and smiled. Sea buckthorn. She knew it from her milkshake shop days. The juice was sweet and tart, perfect when people were thirsty and worn out, easy on the stomach too. She did not start picking. First job was making sure the place would not try to kill her. Suddenly, a soft rustle brushed her ear. Something small and dark shot past her feet. Gwen glanced down and moved on instinct. She lunged, caught it clean, and lifted the squirming thing before it could disappear. Chapter 6 Stickup [You have captured a plump red-shelled coconut crab.] [Red-Shelled Coconut Crab: Tender, edible meat. Shell usable for crafting.] For once, the system actually bothered to dress things up. Gwen weighed the crab in her hand. It was pretty hefty, easily seven or eight pounds. Gwen weighed the crab in her hand. 'Heavy. A solid eight, maybe nine pounds,' she figured. 'Not bad at all.' She'd never eaten coconut crab before. Never had the chance, really. Funny how getting dumped into a survival game was what finally earned her a lifetime seafood buffet. Coconut crabs were slow, clumsy things. Ten minutes later, she had caught five more without breaking a sweat and dumped them neatly into her storage ring. She remembered the documentaries. Coconut crabs usually came out at night, their shells a dull blue-green meant to disappear into shadows. These, though, were bright red, like they had already been boiled. Another reminder that whatever world this was, it played by its own rules. The island itself was small. Gwen pushed through a final wall of brush and emerged near its center. The jungle thinned abruptly, opening into a wide stretch of sand that felt almost desert-like. Something gleamed. Chunks of raw ore rose straight out of the sand, scattered like oversized weeds. Sunlight bounced off the metal, sharp and unmistakable. Gwen froze. 'Iron! And not just a little.' Iron ore was the real bottleneck in the game. One needed it for raft upgrades, and players practically fought over scraps. Most of what existed came from rare loot chests pulled up from the ocean. And here it was, sitting in plain sight on a forgettable little island. 'Jackpot,' Gwen thought, her heart pounding with excitement. Then she spotted the chest. It was nestled among the iron deposits sat a bronze-bound coffer. The copper lock was mottled with rust and barely holding together, tilting just enough to look inviting. Like it was calling out to be opened. Her excitement cooled instead of spiking. 'A chest sitting dead center in an iron field? That is weird. Too convenient,' she mused. 'Could this be a trap?' She started toward it anyway. Behind her, sand shifted softly. Not the lazy scrape of a coconut crab. Something lighter. Intentional. Without turning her head, Gwen flicked her eyes sideways. Near a coconut tree behind her, a shadow clung to the trunk. It was subtle, just a shade darker than it should have been, but it did not belong there. She clocked it instantly. Behind that tree, the player known as Sweltering Nights tightened his grip on a slim knife. 'Seriously? I barely moved my foot. Is she some kind of paranoid freak, or just stupidly sharp?' he thought. He watched her posture. No sudden movements. No weapons drawn. She kept strolling toward the chest like nothing had happened. He exhaled, slow and relieved. 'Guess I was overthinking it,' he thought. 'Anyone with a pulse would lose their mind over a chest that size. Nobody would pay attention to a little background noise.' Gwen's back was wide open now. Greed flickered across his eyes. 'Let her open it first. Once she pops that chest, I'm cashing in again today.' Gwen stopped in front of the chest and leaned closer, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "Just sitting out here like this…" she muttered. "Feels like it belongs to someone already. Yeah, no. Probably shouldn't mess with other people's stuff." 'Wait. What?' Sweltering Nights nearly choked. 'Did she seriously just say that? 'Who does that? Who sees a treasure chest and decides to walk away? Was she bugged? Glitched? Or just plain nuts?' He couldn't hold it in. He sprang from behind a tree, blade catching the light as he aimed the tip right at her throat. "Robbery! Hand it over!" he barked. Gwen flinched for show, but her gaze slipped over the ragged-looking guy in front of her. In her left eye, a neat little panel blinked to life. [Player ID: Sweltering Nights] [Class: Pirate] [Sin Points: 30] [Bounty: 100 Shell Tokens] [Upgrade Captain Malcolm's Eyepatch to reveal more hidden info.] Sweltering Nights. She knew that tag. He was the pirate everyone tore into on global chat this morning. 'What are the odds,' she thought. "Dump your supplies," he said, licking salt-dry lips, "and maybe I let you walk." He was already counting his winnings. An empty island and a soft target delivered to him. He was already counting his winnings. An empty island and a soft target delivered to him. Ever since he robbed his first player, he'd learned how sweet the pirate life ran. Folks combed the sea for days for scraps, but one good blade got him more in a minute. His eyes dragged over Gwen's face. Way prettier than the last one he hit. 'If she plays nice and coughs up her haul, maybe I'll tie her up and take her back to the boat for a little entertainment,' he thought. The second that dirty thought formed, Gwen vanished. One heartbeat she was there. The next, the back of his neck turned to ice. Gwen stood behind him with a rough iron dagger snug against his throat. The whole scene flipped in a blink. "Now this is a robbery," Gwen said, cool as a tide pool. "H-How..." Sweltering Nights stared, eyes going wide. 'What the hell is she, a mage? How did she pull that off? Disappear here, pop up there, no normal person can do that,' he thought, his mind spinning. 'Wait, she has to have some special class, some skill firing at the right moment. 'Damn it, I let my guard down.' "Dump your supplies," Gwen said flatly, her face giving away nothing at all. "Do that, and I'll make sure you die quick. No pain." He froze. 'Wasn't that my line just a second ago? Only she's colder than me, and she isn't even pretending I get to walk out of here.' Sweltering Nights gritted his teeth. "I screwed up, alright? My bad. I'll give you all my supplies, every bit. Just let me go, yeah? Only pirates can loot a player's ship. If you kill me, you get nothing." He wasn't bluffing. The system's newbie protection covered ships, not two people standing on a beach. If they were on board, Gwen couldn't have touched him. Before he came ashore, he left the good stuff on his raft, just in case. If she killed him now, she walked away empty-handed. Gwen didn't answer. She drove her knee straight into his spine. He face-planted, mouth full of sand, hacking and gagging. For someone so slim, she hit like a truck. One knee and his stomach lurched hard enough to bring up lunch. Pinned and dazed, he felt her knife saw through his jacket. She yanked it off him in a single pull. For a split second he panicked. 'Did I seriously just run and face-first into a man-eater? Would've been nice to get a heads-up. 'If it keeps me breathing, I could, you know, make a little personal sacrifice.' Nope. Not even close. Gwen moved fast, ripping strips from his clothes and cinching his wrists and ankles tight. Her grappling line was already tied to the raft, so fabric was the only rope on hand. She wasn't about to slice up her own gear. His would do. "Crawl over there. Open the chest," Gwen said. -------------------------------------------------- There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)
🔥😱Gwen Swann never expected to be stranded on a raft in the middle of the ocean. Somehow, there were billions of people in the same situation as her, having been transported by a system which forced them to survive in the seas. It was a game and only the toughest and smartest would come out top. Unlike others who started complaining, unable to wrap their heads what was happening, Gwen started taking stock of what she had and got a move on. There was no time to lose when everyone was fighting for resources. Fortunately for her, she seemed to be having a stroke of luck, and the ocean blessed her with rich pickings. Soon, she was making trades and befriending other players. But as time passed, things took a darker turn. Gwen would soon realize this wasn't merely a game. There would be times when she had to kill or be killed herself… ------------------------------------------- Chapter 1 Raft Survival: Global Edition The sky above Gwen Swann was a clean, endless blue. No clouds. No contrails. Under her, the ocean went on forever, a dark mouth that did not blink. She sat on a raft barely 43 square feet in area. No land. No boats. No gulls. Just water and the slap of waves. The spray soaked her jeans and the fabric stuck cold to her legs, like the sea was claiming her piece by piece. Gwen stared ahead, her mind completely blank. She was pretty sure that five minutes ago, she'd been at the office, half-dead from overtime, staring at a spreadsheet and wondering if coffee counted as dinner. Gwen thought, 'Kidnapped? By who, exactly. 'I am a soft target with nothing to my name. What, someone hauled me out here to inherit my student loans and maxed-out Visa?' A translucent screen flickered into view at the corner of her vision, like a heads-up display from a game. Lines of text scrolled by. [Global Chat]: [Okay, no joke, where the hell are we?] [I was literally about to clutch a pentakill and now I'm in the ocean. This has to be a prank.] [Someone tell me I'm dreaming. Or knock me out. Either works.] [Is anyone else here actually real? I don't see a single person.] [I'm gonna throw up. I get seasick on this boat. This is not funny.] [Bro, calling this thing a boat is generous. My dog's crate is bigger.] [Seasick? Try having deep-sea phobia. I swear something huge just swam under my raft.] [Nana, if you're watching from heaven, please don't let me die like this!] Gwen exhaled quietly. 'Good. I am not alone. At least this nightmare has company.' The chat continued to dissolve into chaos, but before she could read more, another voice cut through everything. Cold. Flat. Inhuman. It didn't come from the screen. It came from inside her head. [Congratulations. You have entered the Ocean Survival Game. Player ID: 29,786,510. [All five billion players have successfully entered the game. The Grand Sea Route is now officially open. Please remember the following navigation rules. [From this point forward, your life will take place at sea. You may collect resources by salvaging floating debris, fishing, and exploring islands in order to upgrade your vessel and survive. [During the New Player Protection Period, players are prohibited from attacking one another. Violations will result in system penalties. [The New Player Protection Period lasts three days. During this time, overall difficulty is significantly reduced. Use this window wisely and gather supplies as quickly as possible. [You have one life. Please do not waste it. [After the protection period ends, the global event "Ocean Storm" will begin. [Warning: the storm will destroy all vessels with a Sturdiness Value below five. Upgrade your ship to ensure survival. [A Beginner Blind Box has been delivered to your vessel. Happy sailing.] Right on cue, something dropped from above. A small wooden box hit the raft with a dull thump and slid to a stop near Gwen's feet. A large question mark was painted on the lid. So this was the so-called Beginner Blind Box. Only then did she notice the rest of her starting equipment. A fishing rod lay near the edge of the raft, old enough to look like it had lived several past lives. Next to it sat an iron grappling hook, spotted with rust and tied to a fraying rope. The moment she focused on them, translucent stat panels popped up in front of her eyes. [Worn Fishing Rod] [Quality: Poor] [Description: Standard beginner item. Everyone gets one. Can be used for fishing.] [Worn Throwing Hook] [Quality: Poor] [Everyone gets one of these starter tools. Use it to snag whatever junk's floating by on the waves.] [Dilapidated Wooden Raft] [Sturdiness: 1 (May fall apart at any time.)] [Speed: 0 (It's a busted raft. Manage your expectations.)] [Storage Capacity: 0/10 slots] [Durability: 100/100] [Upgrade requirements: 20 Wood, 10 Cloth, 10 Seaweeds, 1 Iron Ore, 1 Dull Pearl.] [(Upgrade unavailable. Insufficient materials.)] After reading through the raft's stats, Gwen finally understood just how bad things were. Five billion people around the world had been dumped into this so-called survival game. Everyone started the same way. One useless raft. No food. No fresh water. And a three-day countdown. Technically, a person could survive about a week without food if they were careful. But the ocean storm coming in three days would wipe out this raft without even trying. A structural rating of one might as well be a death sentence. If she wanted to live, upgrading this floating pile of wood wasn't optional. It was everything. Gwen had never been the kind of person who wasted energy complaining about fate. When she realized something couldn't be changed, she made the only sensible choice. She adapted, and she did it fast. That was how the world worked. Survival of the fittest. The strong stayed standing, and everyone else got swept aside. She understood that rule instinctively. So while the global chat was still packed with people shouting, whining, and melting down in real time, Gwen was already moving, quietly collecting whatever she could get her hands on. She wrapped the rope of the throwing hook securely around her wrist and locked onto a wooden plank drifting about fifteen feet straight ahead. The metal hook sliced through the air with a sharp whistle. It grazed the edge of the plank and missed. The hook splashed into the water and vanished beneath the surface, swallowed whole by the sea. Gwen pulled the rope, reeling the hook back in. She had underestimated how fast the hook traveled, and she hadn't accounted for the way the current nudged floating debris forward. Lesson learned. On the second throw, she adjusted her timing and released. The hook landed squarely in the middle of the plank. Nailed it. She hauled it in and noticed a strip of bright green seaweed tangled around the bottom. [Item acquired: 1 Wood, 1 Seaweed] A buy-one-get-one deal. She wasn't complaining. Everything she collected was automatically transferred into the raft's storage. A notification popped up as the capacity updated to 2 out of 500. No breaks. Gwen's eyes were already on the next piece of debris. [Wood+1] [Cloth +1] [Seaweed +1] ***** Three hours later, Gwen barely had to think about it anymore. Her wrist felt sore, sure, but her accuracy was ridiculous. Anything she aimed at might as well have been glued to the hook. Misses were rare. She checked her inventory. Twenty three pieces of wood. Eleven cloth. Ten seaweed. That was enough to upgrade the raft. What she still needed was iron ore and that dull-looking pearl. And she had no clue where either of those came from. Out of curiosity, she glanced back at the global chat. The conversation had moved on. Everyone was now arguing about the newbie loot boxes. [Are you kidding me? Five pieces of wood. That's it?] [I got two bottles of water. Best day of my life. I was about to pass out.] [Five wood gang here.] [Same. Five wood.] [Same here.] [So the devs really went full gacha scam on us, huh?] [This is supposed to be a starter reward, not a slap in the face.] [Cry more. Check out what I pulled.] One message stood out immediately. Someone had posted a full item card. [Shark Tooth Dagger] [Quality: Common] [A dagger made from shark teeth. Sharp enough. Deals double damage to sharks.] 'Wait, weapons are in the loot boxes too?' Gwen thought, surprised. Gwen scrolled. Weapon pulls were rare. Most people got basic materials. Some luckier players scored food, fresh water, binoculars, or flint. One insanely lucky player claimed they had pulled one hundred dull pearls. Gwen's eyes narrowed. The raft upgrade required one pearl. She still had no idea how to get one, and it was obvious these were way more valuable than wood or cloth. The pearl guy wasted no time. [Selling extra pearls. One pearl for 200 wood, cloth, or seaweed.] [Two hundred wood for one pearl? Just mug us next time.] [I fished up a giant oyster with the starter rod. Cracked it open, pearl inside. If you want pearls, go fishing.] [Fishing my ass. I've been sitting here for an hour and nothing's biting.] [Same. Didn't catch a thing and almost fell in.] [Basic fishing tip. You need bait. I tore off a piece of bread from a loot box, tied it to the hook, instant fish.] [So what you're saying is I need food to get food?] [No bait means no fish. No fish means no food. This game is evil.] [Selling one piece of wheat bread, 150 grams, for 200 wood. First come, first served.] [Dude, that's even worse than the pearl guy.] [I would rather starve than trade my pride for bread.] [Trading newbie blind box for five pieces of wheat bread.] [People are selling blind boxes already?] [My luck sucks anyway. Five wood isn't doing me any favors.] Everyone was brand new, all stuck with the same problems. No food. No water. The moment someone had extras, prices went through the roof. Gwen felt the faint tug of hunger in her stomach after hours of work, but it was manageable. She wasn't desperate yet. Trading valuable resources for food now would just mean grinding for someone else's benefit. She picked up the blind box resting on the raft. Trading it for bread was probably the smart move. Still, Gwen hesitated. Compared to five pieces of wood, taking a shot at luck didn't seem like the worst idea in the world. Chapter 2 The Legendary Rod Gwen worked a thumb under the seal and muttered a quick prayer to the loot gods. 'Not lumber. Please not lumber. If it isn't a weapon, let it be food.' The box popped, and a long, slender rod shimmered into her hand. [Lucky Octo Fishing Rod] [Quality: Legendary] [Comes with a jelly octopus lure that gives off a strange scent and has ridiculous suction. Guarantees a bite with every cast and greatly increases your odds of pulling rare fish and rare items. [Fair warning: certain uncanny creatures are also drawn to it. Use with care. [Anglers never get skunked!] Gwen's eyes lit up. 'Talk about perfect timing. With a rod that comes with its own bait, I don't have to worry about finding any myself.' And it was legendary. Back home she had dabbled in those cheesy pay to win MMOs where numbers fly off mobs like confetti. Legendary sounded a whole lot sweeter than the common dagger people were flexing in global chat. Shame it was a fishing rod. She would have killed for something she could swing. Still, no sense getting greedy. Compared to the poor souls who drew five planks, this was an S tier start. She gave the rod a closer look. The build was miles ahead of the starter stick, with fancy scrollwork carved into the grip. A clear little octopus hung at the end of the line, glossy and wobbly like a gummy candy. She tapped it with a fingertip. The tiny octopus twitched, then latched on with all eight arms. Okay, that suction was no joke. She couldn't peel it off. Gwen muttered, "Easy there, buddy. Let go." She rapped it gently on the head with her other hand. The octopus seemed to realize it had the wrong target and unhooked itself, almost apologetic. Gwen faced the open water, set her stance, and sent the line out in a clean, pretty arc. Legendary or not, she fully expected a bite. That warning about uncanny creatures in the description went straight into the mental trash. 'When your stomach is filing complaints, you do not worry about sea spooks. If it is edible, it is eligible,' Gwen scoffed to herself. Two minutes had not even passed when the float snapped under and vanished. Her wrist dipped. The rod bowed into a tidy arc under the pull. Fish on. The fight was nothing. She hauled up in one smooth motion and slapped a small, silver bright fish onto the raft. Its tail drummed the boards like a snare. [You obtained: Jack Mackerel x1] [Auto dismantle? (System processing reduces yield.) ] She hit Yes. No tools, no way to deal with guts, and she was not about to chew the thing whole like a seal. [You obtained: Jack Mackerel Fillet x3] She weighed the slices in her palm. The fish had to be about a pound, and after the system took its cut, more than a third had evaporated. Highway robbery. Gwen clicked her tongue. Yeah, no. She decided once she had decent tools, she would clean her catch herself. No more letting the system skim her dinner. Her stomach chimed in again. She raised a piece of raw fillet and took a bite. The texture was soft and tender, almost creamy, with a faint sweetness that lingered after she swallowed. 'Fresh caught hits different,' Gwen thought, savoring the flavor. She polished off the fillets in a few quick bites. Maybe half full. The fish had been way too small. She wrapped her fingers tighter around the rod and cast again. 'With a rod that literally never come up empty, food is the least of my worries, right?' Not long after, the bobber dipped. Another bite. She reeled it in with barely any effort. The sun was sinking fast, the light thinning into dusk. Whatever was on the hook gleamed against the darkening water, and for a split second she thought she had struck it rich. Then she leaned closer. A starfish. [Glowing Starfish] [Inedible. Emits light at night. Can be used as an adorable bedside lamp.] Gwen stared at it, the corners of her mouth twitching. 'Awesome,' she thought. 'Real cute. Totally useless.' It didn't struggle or try to crawl away, so she dumped it off to the side of the raft. After that, things went completely sideways. She caught two more horse mackerel and one sea bream. Everything else was glowing starfish. Blue ones. Green ones. Pink ones. They stacked up until half the raft was covered, like they had organized a group outing and decided her hook was the place to be. Gwen squinted at the pile and sighed. 'Did I drop anchor in a starfish daycare or what?' The night sky was pitch black, no moon, no stars. The heap of glowing starfish became the only light around, colors weaving together and shifting constantly. Blue, green, pink, purple, all bleeding into each other. Her face, her hands, even the wooden planks under her boots were washed in that unreal glow. The light spilled out onto the surrounding sea, making it look like the raft was drifting through a magical field of stars. There was no sail, but the raft kept moving with the current. Maybe she really had drifted straight into their territory. That would explain a lot. She rubbed her sore wrist just as a familiar system chime sounded. [Heads up, players: It is now 11:00 p.m. Between 11:00 p.m. and 5:00 a.m., the chance of catching eerie creatures and special items is doubled. We recommend getting proper rest. Staying up late is bad for your health.] Three fish. All small. That was the entire haul. Not great. She needed enough to eat tomorrow, and she had hoped to trade extra fish for fresh water with other players. The system's cheerful warning made her uneasy. Gwen exhaled slowly. 'One last cast,' she told herself. 'If it's another glow stick with legs, I'm done for the night.' She cast again. A few minutes passed, then her rod dipped hard. This time the weight nearly yanked it from her hands. Now that was more like it. Sixty pounds at least. Probably more. She braced her feet and started reeling, a grin breaking through. Finally. Anything but another starfish. Gwen had always been strong. As a kid she dominated both sprints and distance runs. In college she could hoist a full water jug with one hand, no problem. When she rolled up her sleeves, muscle lines stood out clear as day. She gave the line a sharp tug and frowned. Whatever she had hooked was not fighting back. No thrashing. No pull. Just dead weight. "Don't tell me I snagged a rock,' she thought. 'Maybe coral.' She reeled it in steadily and dragged it up alongside the raft. Then she grabbed it with both hands and hauled it aboard. It turned out to be a wine barrel, easily half as tall as she was. Gwen didn't open it right away. She leaned in and knocked on the lid, listening. Nothing moved. Satisfied, she slid a wooden plank into the seam and pried. The lid popped loose, and a wave of stale, rotten air rushed out. Gwen pinched her nose and leaned over to look inside. Curled within the barrel was a complete human skeleton. The skull wore a wide-brimmed pirate tricorn, complete with an eyepatch. The left hand still clutched a rusted revolver. On the right hand, something caught the light, flashing brightly on a finger bone. It was a ring. Chapter 3 The Legacy Of A Special Profession Out on the open ocean in the middle of the night, the moon threw a cold wash of light into the barrel and turned those bones paper white. The empty sockets stared at Gwen. Creepy, sure, if one scared easy. Gwen didn't. She lifted an eyebrow, more bored than bothered. 'Please,' she thought, 'it's a skeleton. Back when it was breathing, it couldn't have gone one round with me. Now that it's dead, I'm not losing a wink of sleep.' She reached in and fished out the soaked pirate hat. [Captain Malcolm's Pirate Hat] [Quality: uncommon (Damaged, repairable)] [A swaggering captain's hat that radiates command presence. While worn, crewwide morale +1 when you issue orders.] Not bad. Better tier than that shark-tooth dagger folks had been flexing in global chat. She checked the pistol, then the ring. [Rusted Revolver] [Quality: Uncommon (Damaged, repairable)] [Just your average revolver, but after soaking in seawater for years, the barrel's rusted and the aim's not what it used to be.] The revolver was the same tier as the hat, both out of commission until she fixed them. Her eyes slid to the ring, and that was it. Hooked. [Ring of the Undead] [Quality: Legendary] [Wearing this triggers the Ghost Pirate class inheritance. Cannot be removed.] [Curse: Upon death you will become a skeleton; your soul will not find rest.] [Includes 1,000-slot storage.] (Item rarity, low to high: Poor - Common - Uncommon - Rare - Epic- Unique - Legendary) Gwen held her breath, grinning despite herself. Another Legendary. She had no clue what a Ghost Pirate did, but Legendary meant heavy hitters. Plus a thousand storage slots. Her raft had, what, ten? The curse? Please. In a survival game this rough, most players were lucky to make it a few days. To her, worrying about the afterlife felt like putting a roof on a house one hadn't framed yet. She slid the ring on without hesitation. [You have obtained a special class: Ghost Pirate.] [You have acquired the class skills Spectral Footwork and Bone Reanimation.] [Spectral Footwork: Your movement becomes spectral; no one can pin you down. Blink to any point within 33 feet. Costs 10 magic points. Cooldown: 30 minutes.] [Bone Reanimation: Stir bones back to motion as your loyal minion. Costs 100 mana. (Requires bones to be at least 80% intact.)] [Congratulations! You are the first player on the server to obtain a special class. Reward: System Blind Box x1. It will be airdropped to your raft shortly.] A wooden crate stamped with question marks thumped onto the raft out of thin air. Gwen barely looked at it. She was too busy savoring the jackpot. Spectral Footwork was the perfect panic button, pure blink-and-you-missed-it. Bone Reanimation sounded downright busted in the best way. 'Raise bones? Seriously? So if I grab enough bones, do I get to field my own skeleton army?' The idea hit her like a wave, ridiculous and thrilling in equal measure. Her eyes slid to the bones stuffed in the wine barrel. 'Look at that. A starter kit, already assembled.' She tried Bone Reanimation. [Skill activation failed. Insufficient magic points.] 'Magic points?' She blinked. Back in college, she had mainlined power-fantasy web serials, so the term rang a bell. She flicked through the system overlay until she found a tucked-away character sheet. [ID: Player #29786510] [Title: None] [Class: Ghost Pirate, Tier 1 (upgrade requires reviving 10 skeletons, progress 0/10)] [Constitution: 5 (affects disease resistance, toughness, and HP, 1 point = 10 HP)] [Strength: 7 (affects how much weight you can lift.)] [Agility: 6 (affects speed and flexibility.)] [Intelligence: 8 (affects mana capacity and mana recovery, 1 point = 10 magic points.)] [Luck: Hidden (affects treasure finds and the odds of good breaks.)] [Charisma: Hidden (affects NPC attitudes toward you.)] [HP: 50] [Magic Points: 80] [Skills: Spectral Footwork, Bone Reanimation.] That cleared it up. Magic points scaled off Intelligence. She was going to need to bump INT to at least ten. She checked the pirate hat and the revolver next. The hat needed a Tailor class and five pieces of cloth to repair. The revolver wanted a Blacksmith class, two iron ore, and, naturally, bullets. Which meant both items were benched for now. She packed every resource into the Ring of the Undead. Her overloaded raft suddenly had room to breathe. The barrel and the skeleton were still hogging space, so she tried to stash those too. The next second, a black eyepatch tumbled out and landed by her foot. She picked it up, surprised. The skull's eyepatch wasn't just a prop. It was gear, and she had almost missed it. [Captain Malcolm's Eyepatch] [Quality: Unique (Upgradable)] [Effect: Lets the wearer read basic player info. A reliable companion for wholesome activities like piracy, robbery, and doing crimes with style. Also looks cool. A pirate without an eyepatch is just a guy in a hat.] That was way too useful to pass up. She slipped it on. Her left eye went dark, her world narrowed, and the lack of depth felt weird. Then she spotted a Hide Appearance toggle in the UI, tapped it, and the eyepatch vanished while her vision snapped back to normal. 'Nice quality-of-life touch,' she thought. Otherwise she might as well tattoo "I'm a pirate" on her forehead. A Lucky Octo Fishing Rod, the Ring of the Undead, and now an eyepatch like a cheat code. The game had been live for a single day and she already had three pieces of Unique-grade gear or better. "Unique" meant one of one across the entire server. As in, only hers. "Luck" was listed as hidden, sure, but she was pretty confident her number there wasn't small. Riding the hot streak, she cracked open the system's loot box. [1 Monocular Telescope, 2 Sun-Protective Sports Outfits, 1 Fisherman's Happy Folding Kit, 1 Mysterious Fruit, 10 Global Chat Megaphones, 10 Coconuts, 10 Straws] Hard to say if this haul was statistically blessed without a leaderboard, but the stuff itself was solid. The telescope and sunproof clothing were gold on open water. Better yet, she had drinkable liquid. Ten coconuts would keep her hydrated for three or four days. The Fisherman's Happy Folding Kit was a sun umbrella, a folding chair, a little folding table, a fish basket, and a landing net. Her raft was about forty square feet, just big enough to pop open the chair and table. Which meant tonight she didn't have to sleep on bare planks. That felt like a win. Each player got ten messages a day on the global chat. Anything beyond that needed a megaphone item. Gwen wasn't big on global chatter, so those megaphones were the least useful thing in the pile. Which left one last item staring up at her. The mysterious fruit. Chapter 4 Glowing Starfish Sells Out The Mysterious Fruit was about the size of an apple, but that was where the familiarity ended. The whole thing was an unnatural shade of blue, with strange spiral patterns etched across the skin. It looked less like food and more like something pulled straight out of a cartoon fantasy series. Blue was not a hunger-friendly color. Just holding it made Gwen doubt her life choices. Still, this had come from a system blind box. She was sure the game was not going to hand her a reward and quietly kill her with it. Probably. She closed her eyes, steeled herself, and took a bite. 'Huh. It is actually… fine,' she thought. A little like a blueberry and an apple had teamed up and decided to be refreshing. The moment she swallowed, a crisp notification chimed in her head. [You have consumed a Mysterious Fruit. Intelligence +1.] Gwen's eyes snapped open. 'Seriously? Right when I needed it?' She had been worrying five minutes ago about how to raise her Intelligence stat, and now the game just dropped the answer into her lap. Or rather, into her mouth. Of course, she knew better than to get used to it. This fruit had come from a system blind box she earned by hitting first place server-wide. That kind of luck did not exactly grow on trees. By the time she finished marveling at it, the clock was creeping toward midnight. Before calling it a night, Gwen casually opened the global chat. And immediately regretted it. [It's pitch black out here. Someone help. I hate tight spaces and the ocean is freaking me out!] [Trading fresh water for anything that gives light.] [One flint for one hundred wood. Or food and water. I'm flexible.] [A hundred wood? You out of your mind?] [Pulled a wooden crate while salvaging. Got a brazier blueprint. I can craft braziers for people. Materials are five charcoal, ten wood. Crafting fee is one iron ore.] [Iron ore is harder to find than food. If I had ore, I would upgrade my raft. Anyone got extra?] Gwen blinked. 'Flint and braziers are already this hot?' She glanced at the folding table beside her raft. The glowing starfish sat there quietly, glowing with a soft blue light, steady and warm like a night lamp. If people were desperate for light, this little thing could easily put a brazier to shame. Another message exploded into the chat. [Do not fish at night. I hooked a sea snake and it bit me. I'm poisoned and my HP is dropping nonstop. I'm almost dead. Does anyone have an antidote potion? I'll trade everything I own!] [Antidotes are insanely rare. No one is giving that up.] [Yeah, that stuff saves your life. No amount of resources is worth it.] The mockery came fast, piling on without mercy. Then one message cut through the noise. Wind in the Night: [I have one. I don't need it right now. I'll trade it to you. Saving a life matters.] Gwen froze for a second. 'Wow. People like that still exist?' [Oh my god, thank you. You're a saint. I owe you big time, seriously!] The gratitude barely finished before the floodgates opened. [Hey, boss, got any food? Haven't eaten all day, I'm dying here.] [Bro, I'm completely out of fresh water. My throat feels like sandpaper. Can you spare a little? Half a bottle even?] [Wait, do you have another antidote? I got bit too. I'm dizzy, can't see straight. I think I'm done for.] The chat went absolutely feral, messages flying so fast they blurred together. Gwen sighed and shook her head. 'Kindness itself is not a mistake. But in a survival game where everyone is one bad decision away from death, being too kind was just another way to paint a target on your back.' A moment later, Wind in the Night replied again: [Sorry, guys. I don't have much. I only found that one antidote in a salvage crate.] ***** Meanwhile, thousands of miles away on the open ocean, a young woman sat on a wooden raft, scrolling through the chat feed with a scowl. 'Unbelievable,' she thought. 'How are there this many shameless people out here? What, is everybody a beggar now?' She flicked the screen again, irritation simmering. 'And don't get me started on that guy who promised me his entire life savings for an antidote. 'I sent it over fair and square. He popped into public chat, dropped a couple half-hearted 'thanks,' and then poof, gone. Straight-up ghosted me. Didn't even toss me a single scrap of wood.' Gwen: [Glowing starfish. Trade for one pound of food or one pint of fresh water, or any practical tools or gear. Multiple colors. First come, first served.] She attached a live photo. On her folding table sat a starfish pulsing a soft electric blue, brighter than a nightlight, throwing a dreamy glow across the black water. [A starfish that glows? That's so beautiful!] [I want one.] [Way better deal than flint. Gimme two.] [Dude, who's speed-clicking these? They're gone already?] The chat spun off into starfish mania, and Ellen Hammond finally let herself breathe. Before this whole mess, she'd been a doctor in training, the kind who runs toward the crash cart on instinct. Helping people was hardwired. But staring at the private messages piling up—each more entitled than the last—she felt it in her bones: the world had shifted. Different rules now. Good thing she'd walked back her earlier claim and said the antidote was a lucky find. If people figured out she could make the stuff, the headache would be a hundred times worse. Riding the wave of attention, Gwen listed the glowing starfish on the trading market and threw another ping into public chat so nobody would miss it. Her handle had been a string of numbers, but when the system asked if she wanted to rename, she swapped it to her real first name. Before this, she had been a regular college kid working her way through med training, no beef with anyone, and whenever she played games she used her actual name because coming up with aliases felt like homework. People hawking flint and brazier in public had priced them into the stratosphere. Most players didn't have that much wood or food on hand, and only a couple had sold. Gwen still had more than thirty glowing starfish, so she marked them to move. If she cleared them out, she could always fish up more tomorrow. She did not expect a feeding frenzy. In under a minute, every last one was gone. Thirty-five glowing starfish netted her fourteen small wheat rolls, two baskets of blueberries, one stick of butter, a can of sweet corn, a small bag of salt, and a dozen-plus 16.9-ounce bottles of water. For now, food and fresh water were not her immediate problems. She was about to close the system panel and crash when a private message popped. Right Side of the Law: [Got any extra glowing starfish? I can trade a weapon.] [Iron Short Dagger] [Quality: common] [A plain little dagger. Good enough for self defense.] Gwen's eyes brightened. The revolver she'd found earlier was a no-go for now, but this dagger would actually see use. Handy for protection, handy for spearing a fish, and no more paying a system cut just to get things done. She fired back fast: [I've got one last starfish. I can trade it to you.] She had a high tolerance for the dark, with or without a nightlight. The trade came through almost instantly. Ding. Dagger acquired. Right Side of the Law was a bit put off. [Why is it blue? I wanted pink.] Gwen looked at the very macho ID, paused, then typed: [I'll fish again tomorrow. If I snag a pink one, I'll square you away with it.] Two glowing starfish for a weapon like this was still a win in her ledger. [Cool,] he replied, and went quiet. She knew if he could casually toss a dagger like that into a trade, he probably had something better on deck. So she was not the only lucky one out here. Gwen flattened her folding chair and stretched out. The night had a chill, so she pulled both sets of sweats from her starter rewards over herself like blankets. She had spent all day hauling salvage and fishing. Her body could take it—only her arms felt heavy—but the mental load was the real drain. One second one was in their life, the next they were in a survival game on a raft with nothing but horizon, no food, no water, and a requirement to improvise or die. Someone fragile, or in a rough headspace, might have gone overboard already. Not Gwen. Even if she were the last person breathing, she was not checking out. She tugged the sweats up to her chin and let her thoughts unspool, ready to drift. That was when the sound hit—low, weird, and wrong, like an electric hum sawing at the edges of the night. Gwen's eyes snapped open. Chapter 5 The First Island The sea was rougher than it had been all day. Gwen pushed herself up and tried to trace the sound. In the washed-out moonlight, a shadow the size of a battleship slid beneath the raft, slow and silent. The swell it kicked up smacked her 43-square-feet platform twice, hard enough to rattle her teeth. Pressure crept in from every direction, something heavy and invisible. Her knee went soft and she nearly toppled. From below came a long, low call, a bass note that felt like it rose from the spine of the ocean. Whale, she thought for a second. Then no. People weren't supposed to hear whale song like that, not raw and close. Set against that thing, her raft was a leaf hitting a pond, flimsy and not worth a second look. Maybe the creature decided the bite wasn't worth the effort, or maybe the newbie-protection rules boxed it in. It lingered a while under the surface, then drifted off like it had all the time in the world. Now she got why everyone was scrambling for anything that made light. In the dark, fear didn't just grow, it multiplied. She spent the night curled in the folding chair. At dawn the sun hauled itself up off the horizon and stabbed her awake. She opened her eyes to a blinding coin hung over endless water. The sea lay flat and windless, glittering like hammered glass. It was calm enough to make last night feel fake. But she trusted her eyes. The water here looked clear, sure, but the blue ran close to black. That meant depth, the kind one measured in chills. She ate a simple breakfast: wheat bread with butter, a few blueberries, and the leftover sashimi from yesterday. That was when she noticed the trick. Inside the Ring of the Undead, time was frozen. Food came out as fresh as it went in. The raft's storage, though, played by normal rules, which meant rot. Lucky she had only tossed two scraps of fish in there. The valuable stuff stayed on her person. She pulled a fishing rod from the ring and set a line while the morning was still kind. With luck she might snag a pearl oyster and upgrade the raft. Her rod had a never-get-skunked buff built in. Other players weren't so lucky, and their bite rates were a joke. Even without pearls, any fish she hauled up could be traded later. After what she saw last night, an upgrade was not optional. Once newbie protection ended, if that thing came back, a raft with durability scraping zero might as well come with a note that said: jump first. While she watched the bobber, she cracked open public chat. Morning or not, it was already blowing up. [Server-wide bounty on a player named Sweltering Nights. He jacked my sister's boat and got her killed. You drop him, I pay five days of food and fresh water, plus one iron ore!] [You gotta be kidding me. System said no PvP during newbie protection. How's anyone pulling a robbery?] [For real. I rolled up on some rando earlier, a transparent shield popped the second I got close. No boarding, period.] [His class is Pirate. He isn't bound by the system's penalties. How is Pirate even a class? Heads up, you see one, do not get soft. It's you or him.] Gwen's stomach dipped. 'So there are other players who've rolled Pirate too?' she thought. Then she breathed and reminded herself she was Ghost Pirate, not the same thing. A legendary ring didn't exactly grow on trees. [Getting drafted into this survival mess is already bad. Now we've got pirates shanking our own? Killing over a handful of supplies, for real?] [Bet they're thugs IRL. If he can straight-up kill like that, dude's probably already done time. Put him down and I won't lose sleep.] [Bro, if I spot him, I'll get justice for your sister. Even if I can't win, I'll drop you the coords.] [Thanks, everyone.] The channel slid into cursing and vows, open season on Pirates. Gwen read in silence. For now, Pirate meant public enemy. Until she had the muscle to back it up, she figured it was smarter not to advertise that she was the Ghost Pirate. No need to hand anyone a reason to dogpile her. Just then, the rod dipped hard and yanked her attention back. She stood, reeled in, and popped the bait out of the water. Another glowing starfish spun on the line, glowing a bright toxic green. She clicked her tongue. 'Wrong color, universe. I need pink, not green.' The Right Side of the Law wanted pink one. She flicked the starfish into her ring for storage. When she looked up, a pinprick of black sat on the far line of the sea, sharp against the moving blue. She pulled out her monocular and took a long look. "An island," she breathed. "No way." Excitement sparked in her chest. This was the first island she had seen, period. H Her raft did not even have a sail. Wherever it drifted, it drifted on the whim of the waves. No one in global chat had bragged about setting foot on an island either. She tamped the rush down, folded her beach chair and sun umbrella, and cleared her view. Through the lens, the island lined up neatly with her drift path. Half an hour later, the raft bobbed within 60 feet of shore. Gwen tied her grappling rope around her waist, clipped the other end tight to the storage chest on the raft, and tugged hard to check it. The chest was bolted straight into the planks. Rock solid. She took a breath and dove. She was no pro, but she could dog paddle and freestyle well enough. Kicking hard, she hauled the raft along. With seawater doing most of the lifting, a 43‑square‑feet raft felt like almost nothing. It was not nearly as tiring as it looked. There was no anchor onboard, and she did not trust the swell. She dragged the raft all the way onto the beach before letting go. A system prompt flickered in her view. [You have discovered an unclaimed island. Explore the island. Locate the Heart of the Island to claim it as your territory.] [Landing limit: 48 hours. If you overstay, you will be removed from the island.] The second message instantly shattered Gwen's little scheme. There went the plan to camp here if it proved safe. An island sounded better than bobbing on open water, but a timer made sense. It was a survival game. If everyone could just squat on an island forever, nobody would risk the sea. Still. The Heart of the Isand. Claim the whole thing. That put a spark in her head. She unhitched the rope from her waist and tied it around a palm trunk to keep the raft from getting snatched by the tide. Then she headed inland, eyes up, taking everything in. The island was not big. Maybe over a square mile, tops. The beach fringe was stacked with palm trees heavy with coconuts. Deeper in, palms gave way to dense shrubs hung with clusters of orange‑yellow fruit, little lanterns glowing in the green. They looked familiar. She picked one, brought it to her nose, and smiled. Sea buckthorn. She knew it from her milkshake shop days. The juice was sweet and tart, perfect when people were thirsty and worn out, easy on the stomach too. She did not start picking. First job was making sure the place would not try to kill her. Suddenly, a soft rustle brushed her ear. Something small and dark shot past her feet. Gwen glanced down and moved on instinct. She lunged, caught it clean, and lifted the squirming thing before it could disappear. Chapter 6 Stickup [You have captured a plump red-shelled coconut crab.] [Red-Shelled Coconut Crab: Tender, edible meat. Shell usable for crafting.] For once, the system actually bothered to dress things up. Gwen weighed the crab in her hand. It was pretty hefty, easily seven or eight pounds. Gwen weighed the crab in her hand. 'Heavy. A solid eight, maybe nine pounds,' she figured. 'Not bad at all.' She'd never eaten coconut crab before. Never had the chance, really. Funny how getting dumped into a survival game was what finally earned her a lifetime seafood buffet. Coconut crabs were slow, clumsy things. Ten minutes later, she had caught five more without breaking a sweat and dumped them neatly into her storage ring. She remembered the documentaries. Coconut crabs usually came out at night, their shells a dull blue-green meant to disappear into shadows. These, though, were bright red, like they had already been boiled. Another reminder that whatever world this was, it played by its own rules. The island itself was small. Gwen pushed through a final wall of brush and emerged near its center. The jungle thinned abruptly, opening into a wide stretch of sand that felt almost desert-like. Something gleamed. Chunks of raw ore rose straight out of the sand, scattered like oversized weeds. Sunlight bounced off the metal, sharp and unmistakable. Gwen froze. 'Iron! And not just a little.' Iron ore was the real bottleneck in the game. One needed it for raft upgrades, and players practically fought over scraps. Most of what existed came from rare loot chests pulled up from the ocean. And here it was, sitting in plain sight on a forgettable little island. 'Jackpot,' Gwen thought, her heart pounding with excitement. Then she spotted the chest. It was nestled among the iron deposits sat a bronze-bound coffer. The copper lock was mottled with rust and barely holding together, tilting just enough to look inviting. Like it was calling out to be opened. Her excitement cooled instead of spiking. 'A chest sitting dead center in an iron field? That is weird. Too convenient,' she mused. 'Could this be a trap?' She started toward it anyway. Behind her, sand shifted softly. Not the lazy scrape of a coconut crab. Something lighter. Intentional. Without turning her head, Gwen flicked her eyes sideways. Near a coconut tree behind her, a shadow clung to the trunk. It was subtle, just a shade darker than it should have been, but it did not belong there. She clocked it instantly. Behind that tree, the player known as Sweltering Nights tightened his grip on a slim knife. 'Seriously? I barely moved my foot. Is she some kind of paranoid freak, or just stupidly sharp?' he thought. He watched her posture. No sudden movements. No weapons drawn. She kept strolling toward the chest like nothing had happened. He exhaled, slow and relieved. 'Guess I was overthinking it,' he thought. 'Anyone with a pulse would lose their mind over a chest that size. Nobody would pay attention to a little background noise.' Gwen's back was wide open now. Greed flickered across his eyes. 'Let her open it first. Once she pops that chest, I'm cashing in again today.' Gwen stopped in front of the chest and leaned closer, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "Just sitting out here like this…" she muttered. "Feels like it belongs to someone already. Yeah, no. Probably shouldn't mess with other people's stuff." 'Wait. What?' Sweltering Nights nearly choked. 'Did she seriously just say that? 'Who does that? Who sees a treasure chest and decides to walk away? Was she bugged? Glitched? Or just plain nuts?' He couldn't hold it in. He sprang from behind a tree, blade catching the light as he aimed the tip right at her throat. "Robbery! Hand it over!" he barked. Gwen flinched for show, but her gaze slipped over the ragged-looking guy in front of her. In her left eye, a neat little panel blinked to life. [Player ID: Sweltering Nights] [Class: Pirate] [Sin Points: 30] [Bounty: 100 Shell Tokens] [Upgrade Captain Malcolm's Eyepatch to reveal more hidden info.] Sweltering Nights. She knew that tag. He was the pirate everyone tore into on global chat this morning. 'What are the odds,' she thought. "Dump your supplies," he said, licking salt-dry lips, "and maybe I let you walk." He was already counting his winnings. An empty island and a soft target delivered to him. He was already counting his winnings. An empty island and a soft target delivered to him. Ever since he robbed his first player, he'd learned how sweet the pirate life ran. Folks combed the sea for days for scraps, but one good blade got him more in a minute. His eyes dragged over Gwen's face. Way prettier than the last one he hit. 'If she plays nice and coughs up her haul, maybe I'll tie her up and take her back to the boat for a little entertainment,' he thought. The second that dirty thought formed, Gwen vanished. One heartbeat she was there. The next, the back of his neck turned to ice. Gwen stood behind him with a rough iron dagger snug against his throat. The whole scene flipped in a blink. "Now this is a robbery," Gwen said, cool as a tide pool. "H-How..." Sweltering Nights stared, eyes going wide. 'What the hell is she, a mage? How did she pull that off? Disappear here, pop up there, no normal person can do that,' he thought, his mind spinning. 'Wait, she has to have some special class, some skill firing at the right moment. 'Damn it, I let my guard down.' "Dump your supplies," Gwen said flatly, her face giving away nothing at all. "Do that, and I'll make sure you die quick. No pain." He froze. 'Wasn't that my line just a second ago? Only she's colder than me, and she isn't even pretending I get to walk out of here.' Sweltering Nights gritted his teeth. "I screwed up, alright? My bad. I'll give you all my supplies, every bit. Just let me go, yeah? Only pirates can loot a player's ship. If you kill me, you get nothing." He wasn't bluffing. The system's newbie protection covered ships, not two people standing on a beach. If they were on board, Gwen couldn't have touched him. Before he came ashore, he left the good stuff on his raft, just in case. If she killed him now, she walked away empty-handed. Gwen didn't answer. She drove her knee straight into his spine. He face-planted, mouth full of sand, hacking and gagging. For someone so slim, she hit like a truck. One knee and his stomach lurched hard enough to bring up lunch. Pinned and dazed, he felt her knife saw through his jacket. She yanked it off him in a single pull. For a split second he panicked. 'Did I seriously just run and face-first into a man-eater? Would've been nice to get a heads-up. 'If it keeps me breathing, I could, you know, make a little personal sacrifice.' Nope. Not even close. Gwen moved fast, ripping strips from his clothes and cinching his wrists and ankles tight. Her grappling line was already tied to the raft, so fabric was the only rope on hand. She wasn't about to slice up her own gear. His would do. "Crawl over there. Open the chest," Gwen said. -------------------------------------------------- There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)
🔥😱Gwen Swann never expected to be stranded on a raft in the middle of the ocean. Somehow, there were billions of people in the same situation as her, having been transported by a system which forced them to survive in the seas. It was a game and only the toughest and smartest would come out top. Unlike others who started complaining, unable to wrap their heads what was happening, Gwen started taking stock of what she had and got a move on. There was no time to lose when everyone was fighting for resources. Fortunately for her, she seemed to be having a stroke of luck, and the ocean blessed her with rich pickings. Soon, she was making trades and befriending other players. But as time passed, things took a darker turn. Gwen would soon realize this wasn't merely a game. There would be times when she had to kill or be killed herself… ------------------------------------------- Chapter 1 Raft Survival: Global Edition The sky above Gwen Swann was a clean, endless blue. No clouds. No contrails. Under her, the ocean went on forever, a dark mouth that did not blink. She sat on a raft barely 43 square feet in area. No land. No boats. No gulls. Just water and the slap of waves. The spray soaked her jeans and the fabric stuck cold to her legs, like the sea was claiming her piece by piece. Gwen stared ahead, her mind completely blank. She was pretty sure that five minutes ago, she'd been at the office, half-dead from overtime, staring at a spreadsheet and wondering if coffee counted as dinner. Gwen thought, 'Kidnapped? By who, exactly. 'I am a soft target with nothing to my name. What, someone hauled me out here to inherit my student loans and maxed-out Visa?' A translucent screen flickered into view at the corner of her vision, like a heads-up display from a game. Lines of text scrolled by. [Global Chat]: [Okay, no joke, where the hell are we?] [I was literally about to clutch a pentakill and now I'm in the ocean. This has to be a prank.] [Someone tell me I'm dreaming. Or knock me out. Either works.] [Is anyone else here actually real? I don't see a single person.] [I'm gonna throw up. I get seasick on this boat. This is not funny.] [Bro, calling this thing a boat is generous. My dog's crate is bigger.] [Seasick? Try having deep-sea phobia. I swear something huge just swam under my raft.] [Nana, if you're watching from heaven, please don't let me die like this!] Gwen exhaled quietly. 'Good. I am not alone. At least this nightmare has company.' The chat continued to dissolve into chaos, but before she could read more, another voice cut through everything. Cold. Flat. Inhuman. It didn't come from the screen. It came from inside her head. [Congratulations. You have entered the Ocean Survival Game. Player ID: 29,786,510. [All five billion players have successfully entered the game. The Grand Sea Route is now officially open. Please remember the following navigation rules. [From this point forward, your life will take place at sea. You may collect resources by salvaging floating debris, fishing, and exploring islands in order to upgrade your vessel and survive. [During the New Player Protection Period, players are prohibited from attacking one another. Violations will result in system penalties. [The New Player Protection Period lasts three days. During this time, overall difficulty is significantly reduced. Use this window wisely and gather supplies as quickly as possible. [You have one life. Please do not waste it. [After the protection period ends, the global event "Ocean Storm" will begin. [Warning: the storm will destroy all vessels with a Sturdiness Value below five. Upgrade your ship to ensure survival. [A Beginner Blind Box has been delivered to your vessel. Happy sailing.] Right on cue, something dropped from above. A small wooden box hit the raft with a dull thump and slid to a stop near Gwen's feet. A large question mark was painted on the lid. So this was the so-called Beginner Blind Box. Only then did she notice the rest of her starting equipment. A fishing rod lay near the edge of the raft, old enough to look like it had lived several past lives. Next to it sat an iron grappling hook, spotted with rust and tied to a fraying rope. The moment she focused on them, translucent stat panels popped up in front of her eyes. [Worn Fishing Rod] [Quality: Poor] [Description: Standard beginner item. Everyone gets one. Can be used for fishing.] [Worn Throwing Hook] [Quality: Poor] [Everyone gets one of these starter tools. Use it to snag whatever junk's floating by on the waves.] [Dilapidated Wooden Raft] [Sturdiness: 1 (May fall apart at any time.)] [Speed: 0 (It's a busted raft. Manage your expectations.)] [Storage Capacity: 0/10 slots] [Durability: 100/100] [Upgrade requirements: 20 Wood, 10 Cloth, 10 Seaweeds, 1 Iron Ore, 1 Dull Pearl.] [(Upgrade unavailable. Insufficient materials.)] After reading through the raft's stats, Gwen finally understood just how bad things were. Five billion people around the world had been dumped into this so-called survival game. Everyone started the same way. One useless raft. No food. No fresh water. And a three-day countdown. Technically, a person could survive about a week without food if they were careful. But the ocean storm coming in three days would wipe out this raft without even trying. A structural rating of one might as well be a death sentence. If she wanted to live, upgrading this floating pile of wood wasn't optional. It was everything. Gwen had never been the kind of person who wasted energy complaining about fate. When she realized something couldn't be changed, she made the only sensible choice. She adapted, and she did it fast. That was how the world worked. Survival of the fittest. The strong stayed standing, and everyone else got swept aside. She understood that rule instinctively. So while the global chat was still packed with people shouting, whining, and melting down in real time, Gwen was already moving, quietly collecting whatever she could get her hands on. She wrapped the rope of the throwing hook securely around her wrist and locked onto a wooden plank drifting about fifteen feet straight ahead. The metal hook sliced through the air with a sharp whistle. It grazed the edge of the plank and missed. The hook splashed into the water and vanished beneath the surface, swallowed whole by the sea. Gwen pulled the rope, reeling the hook back in. She had underestimated how fast the hook traveled, and she hadn't accounted for the way the current nudged floating debris forward. Lesson learned. On the second throw, she adjusted her timing and released. The hook landed squarely in the middle of the plank. Nailed it. She hauled it in and noticed a strip of bright green seaweed tangled around the bottom. [Item acquired: 1 Wood, 1 Seaweed] A buy-one-get-one deal. She wasn't complaining. Everything she collected was automatically transferred into the raft's storage. A notification popped up as the capacity updated to 2 out of 500. No breaks. Gwen's eyes were already on the next piece of debris. [Wood+1] [Cloth +1] [Seaweed +1] ***** Three hours later, Gwen barely had to think about it anymore. Her wrist felt sore, sure, but her accuracy was ridiculous. Anything she aimed at might as well have been glued to the hook. Misses were rare. She checked her inventory. Twenty three pieces of wood. Eleven cloth. Ten seaweed. That was enough to upgrade the raft. What she still needed was iron ore and that dull-looking pearl. And she had no clue where either of those came from. Out of curiosity, she glanced back at the global chat. The conversation had moved on. Everyone was now arguing about the newbie loot boxes. [Are you kidding me? Five pieces of wood. That's it?] [I got two bottles of water. Best day of my life. I was about to pass out.] [Five wood gang here.] [Same. Five wood.] [Same here.] [So the devs really went full gacha scam on us, huh?] [This is supposed to be a starter reward, not a slap in the face.] [Cry more. Check out what I pulled.] One message stood out immediately. Someone had posted a full item card. [Shark Tooth Dagger] [Quality: Common] [A dagger made from shark teeth. Sharp enough. Deals double damage to sharks.] 'Wait, weapons are in the loot boxes too?' Gwen thought, surprised. Gwen scrolled. Weapon pulls were rare. Most people got basic materials. Some luckier players scored food, fresh water, binoculars, or flint. One insanely lucky player claimed they had pulled one hundred dull pearls. Gwen's eyes narrowed. The raft upgrade required one pearl. She still had no idea how to get one, and it was obvious these were way more valuable than wood or cloth. The pearl guy wasted no time. [Selling extra pearls. One pearl for 200 wood, cloth, or seaweed.] [Two hundred wood for one pearl? Just mug us next time.] [I fished up a giant oyster with the starter rod. Cracked it open, pearl inside. If you want pearls, go fishing.] [Fishing my ass. I've been sitting here for an hour and nothing's biting.] [Same. Didn't catch a thing and almost fell in.] [Basic fishing tip. You need bait. I tore off a piece of bread from a loot box, tied it to the hook, instant fish.] [So what you're saying is I need food to get food?] [No bait means no fish. No fish means no food. This game is evil.] [Selling one piece of wheat bread, 150 grams, for 200 wood. First come, first served.] [Dude, that's even worse than the pearl guy.] [I would rather starve than trade my pride for bread.] [Trading newbie blind box for five pieces of wheat bread.] [People are selling blind boxes already?] [My luck sucks anyway. Five wood isn't doing me any favors.] Everyone was brand new, all stuck with the same problems. No food. No water. The moment someone had extras, prices went through the roof. Gwen felt the faint tug of hunger in her stomach after hours of work, but it was manageable. She wasn't desperate yet. Trading valuable resources for food now would just mean grinding for someone else's benefit. She picked up the blind box resting on the raft. Trading it for bread was probably the smart move. Still, Gwen hesitated. Compared to five pieces of wood, taking a shot at luck didn't seem like the worst idea in the world. Chapter 2 The Legendary Rod Gwen worked a thumb under the seal and muttered a quick prayer to the loot gods. 'Not lumber. Please not lumber. If it isn't a weapon, let it be food.' The box popped, and a long, slender rod shimmered into her hand. [Lucky Octo Fishing Rod] [Quality: Legendary] [Comes with a jelly octopus lure that gives off a strange scent and has ridiculous suction. Guarantees a bite with every cast and greatly increases your odds of pulling rare fish and rare items. [Fair warning: certain uncanny creatures are also drawn to it. Use with care. [Anglers never get skunked!] Gwen's eyes lit up. 'Talk about perfect timing. With a rod that comes with its own bait, I don't have to worry about finding any myself.' And it was legendary. Back home she had dabbled in those cheesy pay to win MMOs where numbers fly off mobs like confetti. Legendary sounded a whole lot sweeter than the common dagger people were flexing in global chat. Shame it was a fishing rod. She would have killed for something she could swing. Still, no sense getting greedy. Compared to the poor souls who drew five planks, this was an S tier start. She gave the rod a closer look. The build was miles ahead of the starter stick, with fancy scrollwork carved into the grip. A clear little octopus hung at the end of the line, glossy and wobbly like a gummy candy. She tapped it with a fingertip. The tiny octopus twitched, then latched on with all eight arms. Okay, that suction was no joke. She couldn't peel it off. Gwen muttered, "Easy there, buddy. Let go." She rapped it gently on the head with her other hand. The octopus seemed to realize it had the wrong target and unhooked itself, almost apologetic. Gwen faced the open water, set her stance, and sent the line out in a clean, pretty arc. Legendary or not, she fully expected a bite. That warning about uncanny creatures in the description went straight into the mental trash. 'When your stomach is filing complaints, you do not worry about sea spooks. If it is edible, it is eligible,' Gwen scoffed to herself. Two minutes had not even passed when the float snapped under and vanished. Her wrist dipped. The rod bowed into a tidy arc under the pull. Fish on. The fight was nothing. She hauled up in one smooth motion and slapped a small, silver bright fish onto the raft. Its tail drummed the boards like a snare. [You obtained: Jack Mackerel x1] [Auto dismantle? (System processing reduces yield.) ] She hit Yes. No tools, no way to deal with guts, and she was not about to chew the thing whole like a seal. [You obtained: Jack Mackerel Fillet x3] She weighed the slices in her palm. The fish had to be about a pound, and after the system took its cut, more than a third had evaporated. Highway robbery. Gwen clicked her tongue. Yeah, no. She decided once she had decent tools, she would clean her catch herself. No more letting the system skim her dinner. Her stomach chimed in again. She raised a piece of raw fillet and took a bite. The texture was soft and tender, almost creamy, with a faint sweetness that lingered after she swallowed. 'Fresh caught hits different,' Gwen thought, savoring the flavor. She polished off the fillets in a few quick bites. Maybe half full. The fish had been way too small. She wrapped her fingers tighter around the rod and cast again. 'With a rod that literally never come up empty, food is the least of my worries, right?' Not long after, the bobber dipped. Another bite. She reeled it in with barely any effort. The sun was sinking fast, the light thinning into dusk. Whatever was on the hook gleamed against the darkening water, and for a split second she thought she had struck it rich. Then she leaned closer. A starfish. [Glowing Starfish] [Inedible. Emits light at night. Can be used as an adorable bedside lamp.] Gwen stared at it, the corners of her mouth twitching. 'Awesome,' she thought. 'Real cute. Totally useless.' It didn't struggle or try to crawl away, so she dumped it off to the side of the raft. After that, things went completely sideways. She caught two more horse mackerel and one sea bream. Everything else was glowing starfish. Blue ones. Green ones. Pink ones. They stacked up until half the raft was covered, like they had organized a group outing and decided her hook was the place to be. Gwen squinted at the pile and sighed. 'Did I drop anchor in a starfish daycare or what?' The night sky was pitch black, no moon, no stars. The heap of glowing starfish became the only light around, colors weaving together and shifting constantly. Blue, green, pink, purple, all bleeding into each other. Her face, her hands, even the wooden planks under her boots were washed in that unreal glow. The light spilled out onto the surrounding sea, making it look like the raft was drifting through a magical field of stars. There was no sail, but the raft kept moving with the current. Maybe she really had drifted straight into their territory. That would explain a lot. She rubbed her sore wrist just as a familiar system chime sounded. [Heads up, players: It is now 11:00 p.m. Between 11:00 p.m. and 5:00 a.m., the chance of catching eerie creatures and special items is doubled. We recommend getting proper rest. Staying up late is bad for your health.] Three fish. All small. That was the entire haul. Not great. She needed enough to eat tomorrow, and she had hoped to trade extra fish for fresh water with other players. The system's cheerful warning made her uneasy. Gwen exhaled slowly. 'One last cast,' she told herself. 'If it's another glow stick with legs, I'm done for the night.' She cast again. A few minutes passed, then her rod dipped hard. This time the weight nearly yanked it from her hands. Now that was more like it. Sixty pounds at least. Probably more. She braced her feet and started reeling, a grin breaking through. Finally. Anything but another starfish. Gwen had always been strong. As a kid she dominated both sprints and distance runs. In college she could hoist a full water jug with one hand, no problem. When she rolled up her sleeves, muscle lines stood out clear as day. She gave the line a sharp tug and frowned. Whatever she had hooked was not fighting back. No thrashing. No pull. Just dead weight. "Don't tell me I snagged a rock,' she thought. 'Maybe coral.' She reeled it in steadily and dragged it up alongside the raft. Then she grabbed it with both hands and hauled it aboard. It turned out to be a wine barrel, easily half as tall as she was. Gwen didn't open it right away. She leaned in and knocked on the lid, listening. Nothing moved. Satisfied, she slid a wooden plank into the seam and pried. The lid popped loose, and a wave of stale, rotten air rushed out. Gwen pinched her nose and leaned over to look inside. Curled within the barrel was a complete human skeleton. The skull wore a wide-brimmed pirate tricorn, complete with an eyepatch. The left hand still clutched a rusted revolver. On the right hand, something caught the light, flashing brightly on a finger bone. It was a ring. Chapter 3 The Legacy Of A Special Profession Out on the open ocean in the middle of the night, the moon threw a cold wash of light into the barrel and turned those bones paper white. The empty sockets stared at Gwen. Creepy, sure, if one scared easy. Gwen didn't. She lifted an eyebrow, more bored than bothered. 'Please,' she thought, 'it's a skeleton. Back when it was breathing, it couldn't have gone one round with me. Now that it's dead, I'm not losing a wink of sleep.' She reached in and fished out the soaked pirate hat. [Captain Malcolm's Pirate Hat] [Quality: uncommon (Damaged, repairable)] [A swaggering captain's hat that radiates command presence. While worn, crewwide morale +1 when you issue orders.] Not bad. Better tier than that shark-tooth dagger folks had been flexing in global chat. She checked the pistol, then the ring. [Rusted Revolver] [Quality: Uncommon (Damaged, repairable)] [Just your average revolver, but after soaking in seawater for years, the barrel's rusted and the aim's not what it used to be.] The revolver was the same tier as the hat, both out of commission until she fixed them. Her eyes slid to the ring, and that was it. Hooked. [Ring of the Undead] [Quality: Legendary] [Wearing this triggers the Ghost Pirate class inheritance. Cannot be removed.] [Curse: Upon death you will become a skeleton; your soul will not find rest.] [Includes 1,000-slot storage.] (Item rarity, low to high: Poor - Common - Uncommon - Rare - Epic- Unique - Legendary) Gwen held her breath, grinning despite herself. Another Legendary. She had no clue what a Ghost Pirate did, but Legendary meant heavy hitters. Plus a thousand storage slots. Her raft had, what, ten? The curse? Please. In a survival game this rough, most players were lucky to make it a few days. To her, worrying about the afterlife felt like putting a roof on a house one hadn't framed yet. She slid the ring on without hesitation. [You have obtained a special class: Ghost Pirate.] [You have acquired the class skills Spectral Footwork and Bone Reanimation.] [Spectral Footwork: Your movement becomes spectral; no one can pin you down. Blink to any point within 33 feet. Costs 10 magic points. Cooldown: 30 minutes.] [Bone Reanimation: Stir bones back to motion as your loyal minion. Costs 100 mana. (Requires bones to be at least 80% intact.)] [Congratulations! You are the first player on the server to obtain a special class. Reward: System Blind Box x1. It will be airdropped to your raft shortly.] A wooden crate stamped with question marks thumped onto the raft out of thin air. Gwen barely looked at it. She was too busy savoring the jackpot. Spectral Footwork was the perfect panic button, pure blink-and-you-missed-it. Bone Reanimation sounded downright busted in the best way. 'Raise bones? Seriously? So if I grab enough bones, do I get to field my own skeleton army?' The idea hit her like a wave, ridiculous and thrilling in equal measure. Her eyes slid to the bones stuffed in the wine barrel. 'Look at that. A starter kit, already assembled.' She tried Bone Reanimation. [Skill activation failed. Insufficient magic points.] 'Magic points?' She blinked. Back in college, she had mainlined power-fantasy web serials, so the term rang a bell. She flicked through the system overlay until she found a tucked-away character sheet. [ID: Player #29786510] [Title: None] [Class: Ghost Pirate, Tier 1 (upgrade requires reviving 10 skeletons, progress 0/10)] [Constitution: 5 (affects disease resistance, toughness, and HP, 1 point = 10 HP)] [Strength: 7 (affects how much weight you can lift.)] [Agility: 6 (affects speed and flexibility.)] [Intelligence: 8 (affects mana capacity and mana recovery, 1 point = 10 magic points.)] [Luck: Hidden (affects treasure finds and the odds of good breaks.)] [Charisma: Hidden (affects NPC attitudes toward you.)] [HP: 50] [Magic Points: 80] [Skills: Spectral Footwork, Bone Reanimation.] That cleared it up. Magic points scaled off Intelligence. She was going to need to bump INT to at least ten. She checked the pirate hat and the revolver next. The hat needed a Tailor class and five pieces of cloth to repair. The revolver wanted a Blacksmith class, two iron ore, and, naturally, bullets. Which meant both items were benched for now. She packed every resource into the Ring of the Undead. Her overloaded raft suddenly had room to breathe. The barrel and the skeleton were still hogging space, so she tried to stash those too. The next second, a black eyepatch tumbled out and landed by her foot. She picked it up, surprised. The skull's eyepatch wasn't just a prop. It was gear, and she had almost missed it. [Captain Malcolm's Eyepatch] [Quality: Unique (Upgradable)] [Effect: Lets the wearer read basic player info. A reliable companion for wholesome activities like piracy, robbery, and doing crimes with style. Also looks cool. A pirate without an eyepatch is just a guy in a hat.] That was way too useful to pass up. She slipped it on. Her left eye went dark, her world narrowed, and the lack of depth felt weird. Then she spotted a Hide Appearance toggle in the UI, tapped it, and the eyepatch vanished while her vision snapped back to normal. 'Nice quality-of-life touch,' she thought. Otherwise she might as well tattoo "I'm a pirate" on her forehead. A Lucky Octo Fishing Rod, the Ring of the Undead, and now an eyepatch like a cheat code. The game had been live for a single day and she already had three pieces of Unique-grade gear or better. "Unique" meant one of one across the entire server. As in, only hers. "Luck" was listed as hidden, sure, but she was pretty confident her number there wasn't small. Riding the hot streak, she cracked open the system's loot box. [1 Monocular Telescope, 2 Sun-Protective Sports Outfits, 1 Fisherman's Happy Folding Kit, 1 Mysterious Fruit, 10 Global Chat Megaphones, 10 Coconuts, 10 Straws] Hard to say if this haul was statistically blessed without a leaderboard, but the stuff itself was solid. The telescope and sunproof clothing were gold on open water. Better yet, she had drinkable liquid. Ten coconuts would keep her hydrated for three or four days. The Fisherman's Happy Folding Kit was a sun umbrella, a folding chair, a little folding table, a fish basket, and a landing net. Her raft was about forty square feet, just big enough to pop open the chair and table. Which meant tonight she didn't have to sleep on bare planks. That felt like a win. Each player got ten messages a day on the global chat. Anything beyond that needed a megaphone item. Gwen wasn't big on global chatter, so those megaphones were the least useful thing in the pile. Which left one last item staring up at her. The mysterious fruit. Chapter 4 Glowing Starfish Sells Out The Mysterious Fruit was about the size of an apple, but that was where the familiarity ended. The whole thing was an unnatural shade of blue, with strange spiral patterns etched across the skin. It looked less like food and more like something pulled straight out of a cartoon fantasy series. Blue was not a hunger-friendly color. Just holding it made Gwen doubt her life choices. Still, this had come from a system blind box. She was sure the game was not going to hand her a reward and quietly kill her with it. Probably. She closed her eyes, steeled herself, and took a bite. 'Huh. It is actually… fine,' she thought. A little like a blueberry and an apple had teamed up and decided to be refreshing. The moment she swallowed, a crisp notification chimed in her head. [You have consumed a Mysterious Fruit. Intelligence +1.] Gwen's eyes snapped open. 'Seriously? Right when I needed it?' She had been worrying five minutes ago about how to raise her Intelligence stat, and now the game just dropped the answer into her lap. Or rather, into her mouth. Of course, she knew better than to get used to it. This fruit had come from a system blind box she earned by hitting first place server-wide. That kind of luck did not exactly grow on trees. By the time she finished marveling at it, the clock was creeping toward midnight. Before calling it a night, Gwen casually opened the global chat. And immediately regretted it. [It's pitch black out here. Someone help. I hate tight spaces and the ocean is freaking me out!] [Trading fresh water for anything that gives light.] [One flint for one hundred wood. Or food and water. I'm flexible.] [A hundred wood? You out of your mind?] [Pulled a wooden crate while salvaging. Got a brazier blueprint. I can craft braziers for people. Materials are five charcoal, ten wood. Crafting fee is one iron ore.] [Iron ore is harder to find than food. If I had ore, I would upgrade my raft. Anyone got extra?] Gwen blinked. 'Flint and braziers are already this hot?' She glanced at the folding table beside her raft. The glowing starfish sat there quietly, glowing with a soft blue light, steady and warm like a night lamp. If people were desperate for light, this little thing could easily put a brazier to shame. Another message exploded into the chat. [Do not fish at night. I hooked a sea snake and it bit me. I'm poisoned and my HP is dropping nonstop. I'm almost dead. Does anyone have an antidote potion? I'll trade everything I own!] [Antidotes are insanely rare. No one is giving that up.] [Yeah, that stuff saves your life. No amount of resources is worth it.] The mockery came fast, piling on without mercy. Then one message cut through the noise. Wind in the Night: [I have one. I don't need it right now. I'll trade it to you. Saving a life matters.] Gwen froze for a second. 'Wow. People like that still exist?' [Oh my god, thank you. You're a saint. I owe you big time, seriously!] The gratitude barely finished before the floodgates opened. [Hey, boss, got any food? Haven't eaten all day, I'm dying here.] [Bro, I'm completely out of fresh water. My throat feels like sandpaper. Can you spare a little? Half a bottle even?] [Wait, do you have another antidote? I got bit too. I'm dizzy, can't see straight. I think I'm done for.] The chat went absolutely feral, messages flying so fast they blurred together. Gwen sighed and shook her head. 'Kindness itself is not a mistake. But in a survival game where everyone is one bad decision away from death, being too kind was just another way to paint a target on your back.' A moment later, Wind in the Night replied again: [Sorry, guys. I don't have much. I only found that one antidote in a salvage crate.] ***** Meanwhile, thousands of miles away on the open ocean, a young woman sat on a wooden raft, scrolling through the chat feed with a scowl. 'Unbelievable,' she thought. 'How are there this many shameless people out here? What, is everybody a beggar now?' She flicked the screen again, irritation simmering. 'And don't get me started on that guy who promised me his entire life savings for an antidote. 'I sent it over fair and square. He popped into public chat, dropped a couple half-hearted 'thanks,' and then poof, gone. Straight-up ghosted me. Didn't even toss me a single scrap of wood.' Gwen: [Glowing starfish. Trade for one pound of food or one pint of fresh water, or any practical tools or gear. Multiple colors. First come, first served.] She attached a live photo. On her folding table sat a starfish pulsing a soft electric blue, brighter than a nightlight, throwing a dreamy glow across the black water. [A starfish that glows? That's so beautiful!] [I want one.] [Way better deal than flint. Gimme two.] [Dude, who's speed-clicking these? They're gone already?] The chat spun off into starfish mania, and Ellen Hammond finally let herself breathe. Before this whole mess, she'd been a doctor in training, the kind who runs toward the crash cart on instinct. Helping people was hardwired. But staring at the private messages piling up—each more entitled than the last—she felt it in her bones: the world had shifted. Different rules now. Good thing she'd walked back her earlier claim and said the antidote was a lucky find. If people figured out she could make the stuff, the headache would be a hundred times worse. Riding the wave of attention, Gwen listed the glowing starfish on the trading market and threw another ping into public chat so nobody would miss it. Her handle had been a string of numbers, but when the system asked if she wanted to rename, she swapped it to her real first name. Before this, she had been a regular college kid working her way through med training, no beef with anyone, and whenever she played games she used her actual name because coming up with aliases felt like homework. People hawking flint and brazier in public had priced them into the stratosphere. Most players didn't have that much wood or food on hand, and only a couple had sold. Gwen still had more than thirty glowing starfish, so she marked them to move. If she cleared them out, she could always fish up more tomorrow. She did not expect a feeding frenzy. In under a minute, every last one was gone. Thirty-five glowing starfish netted her fourteen small wheat rolls, two baskets of blueberries, one stick of butter, a can of sweet corn, a small bag of salt, and a dozen-plus 16.9-ounce bottles of water. For now, food and fresh water were not her immediate problems. She was about to close the system panel and crash when a private message popped. Right Side of the Law: [Got any extra glowing starfish? I can trade a weapon.] [Iron Short Dagger] [Quality: common] [A plain little dagger. Good enough for self defense.] Gwen's eyes brightened. The revolver she'd found earlier was a no-go for now, but this dagger would actually see use. Handy for protection, handy for spearing a fish, and no more paying a system cut just to get things done. She fired back fast: [I've got one last starfish. I can trade it to you.] She had a high tolerance for the dark, with or without a nightlight. The trade came through almost instantly. Ding. Dagger acquired. Right Side of the Law was a bit put off. [Why is it blue? I wanted pink.] Gwen looked at the very macho ID, paused, then typed: [I'll fish again tomorrow. If I snag a pink one, I'll square you away with it.] Two glowing starfish for a weapon like this was still a win in her ledger. [Cool,] he replied, and went quiet. She knew if he could casually toss a dagger like that into a trade, he probably had something better on deck. So she was not the only lucky one out here. Gwen flattened her folding chair and stretched out. The night had a chill, so she pulled both sets of sweats from her starter rewards over herself like blankets. She had spent all day hauling salvage and fishing. Her body could take it—only her arms felt heavy—but the mental load was the real drain. One second one was in their life, the next they were in a survival game on a raft with nothing but horizon, no food, no water, and a requirement to improvise or die. Someone fragile, or in a rough headspace, might have gone overboard already. Not Gwen. Even if she were the last person breathing, she was not checking out. She tugged the sweats up to her chin and let her thoughts unspool, ready to drift. That was when the sound hit—low, weird, and wrong, like an electric hum sawing at the edges of the night. Gwen's eyes snapped open. Chapter 5 The First Island The sea was rougher than it had been all day. Gwen pushed herself up and tried to trace the sound. In the washed-out moonlight, a shadow the size of a battleship slid beneath the raft, slow and silent. The swell it kicked up smacked her 43-square-feet platform twice, hard enough to rattle her teeth. Pressure crept in from every direction, something heavy and invisible. Her knee went soft and she nearly toppled. From below came a long, low call, a bass note that felt like it rose from the spine of the ocean. Whale, she thought for a second. Then no. People weren't supposed to hear whale song like that, not raw and close. Set against that thing, her raft was a leaf hitting a pond, flimsy and not worth a second look. Maybe the creature decided the bite wasn't worth the effort, or maybe the newbie-protection rules boxed it in. It lingered a while under the surface, then drifted off like it had all the time in the world. Now she got why everyone was scrambling for anything that made light. In the dark, fear didn't just grow, it multiplied. She spent the night curled in the folding chair. At dawn the sun hauled itself up off the horizon and stabbed her awake. She opened her eyes to a blinding coin hung over endless water. The sea lay flat and windless, glittering like hammered glass. It was calm enough to make last night feel fake. But she trusted her eyes. The water here looked clear, sure, but the blue ran close to black. That meant depth, the kind one measured in chills. She ate a simple breakfast: wheat bread with butter, a few blueberries, and the leftover sashimi from yesterday. That was when she noticed the trick. Inside the Ring of the Undead, time was frozen. Food came out as fresh as it went in. The raft's storage, though, played by normal rules, which meant rot. Lucky she had only tossed two scraps of fish in there. The valuable stuff stayed on her person. She pulled a fishing rod from the ring and set a line while the morning was still kind. With luck she might snag a pearl oyster and upgrade the raft. Her rod had a never-get-skunked buff built in. Other players weren't so lucky, and their bite rates were a joke. Even without pearls, any fish she hauled up could be traded later. After what she saw last night, an upgrade was not optional. Once newbie protection ended, if that thing came back, a raft with durability scraping zero might as well come with a note that said: jump first. While she watched the bobber, she cracked open public chat. Morning or not, it was already blowing up. [Server-wide bounty on a player named Sweltering Nights. He jacked my sister's boat and got her killed. You drop him, I pay five days of food and fresh water, plus one iron ore!] [You gotta be kidding me. System said no PvP during newbie protection. How's anyone pulling a robbery?] [For real. I rolled up on some rando earlier, a transparent shield popped the second I got close. No boarding, period.] [His class is Pirate. He isn't bound by the system's penalties. How is Pirate even a class? Heads up, you see one, do not get soft. It's you or him.] Gwen's stomach dipped. 'So there are other players who've rolled Pirate too?' she thought. Then she breathed and reminded herself she was Ghost Pirate, not the same thing. A legendary ring didn't exactly grow on trees. [Getting drafted into this survival mess is already bad. Now we've got pirates shanking our own? Killing over a handful of supplies, for real?] [Bet they're thugs IRL. If he can straight-up kill like that, dude's probably already done time. Put him down and I won't lose sleep.] [Bro, if I spot him, I'll get justice for your sister. Even if I can't win, I'll drop you the coords.] [Thanks, everyone.] The channel slid into cursing and vows, open season on Pirates. Gwen read in silence. For now, Pirate meant public enemy. Until she had the muscle to back it up, she figured it was smarter not to advertise that she was the Ghost Pirate. No need to hand anyone a reason to dogpile her. Just then, the rod dipped hard and yanked her attention back. She stood, reeled in, and popped the bait out of the water. Another glowing starfish spun on the line, glowing a bright toxic green. She clicked her tongue. 'Wrong color, universe. I need pink, not green.' The Right Side of the Law wanted pink one. She flicked the starfish into her ring for storage. When she looked up, a pinprick of black sat on the far line of the sea, sharp against the moving blue. She pulled out her monocular and took a long look. "An island," she breathed. "No way." Excitement sparked in her chest. This was the first island she had seen, period. H Her raft did not even have a sail. Wherever it drifted, it drifted on the whim of the waves. No one in global chat had bragged about setting foot on an island either. She tamped the rush down, folded her beach chair and sun umbrella, and cleared her view. Through the lens, the island lined up neatly with her drift path. Half an hour later, the raft bobbed within 60 feet of shore. Gwen tied her grappling rope around her waist, clipped the other end tight to the storage chest on the raft, and tugged hard to check it. The chest was bolted straight into the planks. Rock solid. She took a breath and dove. She was no pro, but she could dog paddle and freestyle well enough. Kicking hard, she hauled the raft along. With seawater doing most of the lifting, a 43‑square‑feet raft felt like almost nothing. It was not nearly as tiring as it looked. There was no anchor onboard, and she did not trust the swell. She dragged the raft all the way onto the beach before letting go. A system prompt flickered in her view. [You have discovered an unclaimed island. Explore the island. Locate the Heart of the Island to claim it as your territory.] [Landing limit: 48 hours. If you overstay, you will be removed from the island.] The second message instantly shattered Gwen's little scheme. There went the plan to camp here if it proved safe. An island sounded better than bobbing on open water, but a timer made sense. It was a survival game. If everyone could just squat on an island forever, nobody would risk the sea. Still. The Heart of the Isand. Claim the whole thing. That put a spark in her head. She unhitched the rope from her waist and tied it around a palm trunk to keep the raft from getting snatched by the tide. Then she headed inland, eyes up, taking everything in. The island was not big. Maybe over a square mile, tops. The beach fringe was stacked with palm trees heavy with coconuts. Deeper in, palms gave way to dense shrubs hung with clusters of orange‑yellow fruit, little lanterns glowing in the green. They looked familiar. She picked one, brought it to her nose, and smiled. Sea buckthorn. She knew it from her milkshake shop days. The juice was sweet and tart, perfect when people were thirsty and worn out, easy on the stomach too. She did not start picking. First job was making sure the place would not try to kill her. Suddenly, a soft rustle brushed her ear. Something small and dark shot past her feet. Gwen glanced down and moved on instinct. She lunged, caught it clean, and lifted the squirming thing before it could disappear. Chapter 6 Stickup [You have captured a plump red-shelled coconut crab.] [Red-Shelled Coconut Crab: Tender, edible meat. Shell usable for crafting.] For once, the system actually bothered to dress things up. Gwen weighed the crab in her hand. It was pretty hefty, easily seven or eight pounds. Gwen weighed the crab in her hand. 'Heavy. A solid eight, maybe nine pounds,' she figured. 'Not bad at all.' She'd never eaten coconut crab before. Never had the chance, really. Funny how getting dumped into a survival game was what finally earned her a lifetime seafood buffet. Coconut crabs were slow, clumsy things. Ten minutes later, she had caught five more without breaking a sweat and dumped them neatly into her storage ring. She remembered the documentaries. Coconut crabs usually came out at night, their shells a dull blue-green meant to disappear into shadows. These, though, were bright red, like they had already been boiled. Another reminder that whatever world this was, it played by its own rules. The island itself was small. Gwen pushed through a final wall of brush and emerged near its center. The jungle thinned abruptly, opening into a wide stretch of sand that felt almost desert-like. Something gleamed. Chunks of raw ore rose straight out of the sand, scattered like oversized weeds. Sunlight bounced off the metal, sharp and unmistakable. Gwen froze. 'Iron! And not just a little.' Iron ore was the real bottleneck in the game. One needed it for raft upgrades, and players practically fought over scraps. Most of what existed came from rare loot chests pulled up from the ocean. And here it was, sitting in plain sight on a forgettable little island. 'Jackpot,' Gwen thought, her heart pounding with excitement. Then she spotted the chest. It was nestled among the iron deposits sat a bronze-bound coffer. The copper lock was mottled with rust and barely holding together, tilting just enough to look inviting. Like it was calling out to be opened. Her excitement cooled instead of spiking. 'A chest sitting dead center in an iron field? That is weird. Too convenient,' she mused. 'Could this be a trap?' She started toward it anyway. Behind her, sand shifted softly. Not the lazy scrape of a coconut crab. Something lighter. Intentional. Without turning her head, Gwen flicked her eyes sideways. Near a coconut tree behind her, a shadow clung to the trunk. It was subtle, just a shade darker than it should have been, but it did not belong there. She clocked it instantly. Behind that tree, the player known as Sweltering Nights tightened his grip on a slim knife. 'Seriously? I barely moved my foot. Is she some kind of paranoid freak, or just stupidly sharp?' he thought. He watched her posture. No sudden movements. No weapons drawn. She kept strolling toward the chest like nothing had happened. He exhaled, slow and relieved. 'Guess I was overthinking it,' he thought. 'Anyone with a pulse would lose their mind over a chest that size. Nobody would pay attention to a little background noise.' Gwen's back was wide open now. Greed flickered across his eyes. 'Let her open it first. Once she pops that chest, I'm cashing in again today.' Gwen stopped in front of the chest and leaned closer, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "Just sitting out here like this…" she muttered. "Feels like it belongs to someone already. Yeah, no. Probably shouldn't mess with other people's stuff." 'Wait. What?' Sweltering Nights nearly choked. 'Did she seriously just say that? 'Who does that? Who sees a treasure chest and decides to walk away? Was she bugged? Glitched? Or just plain nuts?' He couldn't hold it in. He sprang from behind a tree, blade catching the light as he aimed the tip right at her throat. "Robbery! Hand it over!" he barked. Gwen flinched for show, but her gaze slipped over the ragged-looking guy in front of her. In her left eye, a neat little panel blinked to life. [Player ID: Sweltering Nights] [Class: Pirate] [Sin Points: 30] [Bounty: 100 Shell Tokens] [Upgrade Captain Malcolm's Eyepatch to reveal more hidden info.] Sweltering Nights. She knew that tag. He was the pirate everyone tore into on global chat this morning. 'What are the odds,' she thought. "Dump your supplies," he said, licking salt-dry lips, "and maybe I let you walk." He was already counting his winnings. An empty island and a soft target delivered to him. He was already counting his winnings. An empty island and a soft target delivered to him. Ever since he robbed his first player, he'd learned how sweet the pirate life ran. Folks combed the sea for days for scraps, but one good blade got him more in a minute. His eyes dragged over Gwen's face. Way prettier than the last one he hit. 'If she plays nice and coughs up her haul, maybe I'll tie her up and take her back to the boat for a little entertainment,' he thought. The second that dirty thought formed, Gwen vanished. One heartbeat she was there. The next, the back of his neck turned to ice. Gwen stood behind him with a rough iron dagger snug against his throat. The whole scene flipped in a blink. "Now this is a robbery," Gwen said, cool as a tide pool. "H-How..." Sweltering Nights stared, eyes going wide. 'What the hell is she, a mage? How did she pull that off? Disappear here, pop up there, no normal person can do that,' he thought, his mind spinning. 'Wait, she has to have some special class, some skill firing at the right moment. 'Damn it, I let my guard down.' "Dump your supplies," Gwen said flatly, her face giving away nothing at all. "Do that, and I'll make sure you die quick. No pain." He froze. 'Wasn't that my line just a second ago? Only she's colder than me, and she isn't even pretending I get to walk out of here.' Sweltering Nights gritted his teeth. "I screwed up, alright? My bad. I'll give you all my supplies, every bit. Just let me go, yeah? Only pirates can loot a player's ship. If you kill me, you get nothing." He wasn't bluffing. The system's newbie protection covered ships, not two people standing on a beach. If they were on board, Gwen couldn't have touched him. Before he came ashore, he left the good stuff on his raft, just in case. If she killed him now, she walked away empty-handed. Gwen didn't answer. She drove her knee straight into his spine. He face-planted, mouth full of sand, hacking and gagging. For someone so slim, she hit like a truck. One knee and his stomach lurched hard enough to bring up lunch. Pinned and dazed, he felt her knife saw through his jacket. She yanked it off him in a single pull. For a split second he panicked. 'Did I seriously just run and face-first into a man-eater? Would've been nice to get a heads-up. 'If it keeps me breathing, I could, you know, make a little personal sacrifice.' Nope. Not even close. Gwen moved fast, ripping strips from his clothes and cinching his wrists and ankles tight. Her grappling line was already tied to the raft, so fabric was the only rope on hand. She wasn't about to slice up her own gear. His would do. "Crawl over there. Open the chest," Gwen said. -------------------------------------------------- There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)
🔥😱Gwen Swann never expected to be stranded on a raft in the middle of the ocean. Somehow, there were billions of people in the same situation as her, having been transported by a system which forced them to survive in the seas. It was a game and only the toughest and smartest would come out top. Unlike others who started complaining, unable to wrap their heads what was happening, Gwen started taking stock of what she had and got a move on. There was no time to lose when everyone was fighting for resources. Fortunately for her, she seemed to be having a stroke of luck, and the ocean blessed her with rich pickings. Soon, she was making trades and befriending other players. But as time passed, things took a darker turn. Gwen would soon realize this wasn't merely a game. There would be times when she had to kill or be killed herself… ------------------------------------------- Chapter 1 Raft Survival: Global Edition The sky above Gwen Swann was a clean, endless blue. No clouds. No contrails. Under her, the ocean went on forever, a dark mouth that did not blink. She sat on a raft barely 43 square feet in area. No land. No boats. No gulls. Just water and the slap of waves. The spray soaked her jeans and the fabric stuck cold to her legs, like the sea was claiming her piece by piece. Gwen stared ahead, her mind completely blank. She was pretty sure that five minutes ago, she'd been at the office, half-dead from overtime, staring at a spreadsheet and wondering if coffee counted as dinner. Gwen thought, 'Kidnapped? By who, exactly. 'I am a soft target with nothing to my name. What, someone hauled me out here to inherit my student loans and maxed-out Visa?' A translucent screen flickered into view at the corner of her vision, like a heads-up display from a game. Lines of text scrolled by. [Global Chat]: [Okay, no joke, where the hell are we?] [I was literally about to clutch a pentakill and now I'm in the ocean. This has to be a prank.] [Someone tell me I'm dreaming. Or knock me out. Either works.] [Is anyone else here actually real? I don't see a single person.] [I'm gonna throw up. I get seasick on this boat. This is not funny.] [Bro, calling this thing a boat is generous. My dog's crate is bigger.] [Seasick? Try having deep-sea phobia. I swear something huge just swam under my raft.] [Nana, if you're watching from heaven, please don't let me die like this!] Gwen exhaled quietly. 'Good. I am not alone. At least this nightmare has company.' The chat continued to dissolve into chaos, but before she could read more, another voice cut through everything. Cold. Flat. Inhuman. It didn't come from the screen. It came from inside her head. [Congratulations. You have entered the Ocean Survival Game. Player ID: 29,786,510. [All five billion players have successfully entered the game. The Grand Sea Route is now officially open. Please remember the following navigation rules. [From this point forward, your life will take place at sea. You may collect resources by salvaging floating debris, fishing, and exploring islands in order to upgrade your vessel and survive. [During the New Player Protection Period, players are prohibited from attacking one another. Violations will result in system penalties. [The New Player Protection Period lasts three days. During this time, overall difficulty is significantly reduced. Use this window wisely and gather supplies as quickly as possible. [You have one life. Please do not waste it. [After the protection period ends, the global event "Ocean Storm" will begin. [Warning: the storm will destroy all vessels with a Sturdiness Value below five. Upgrade your ship to ensure survival. [A Beginner Blind Box has been delivered to your vessel. Happy sailing.] Right on cue, something dropped from above. A small wooden box hit the raft with a dull thump and slid to a stop near Gwen's feet. A large question mark was painted on the lid. So this was the so-called Beginner Blind Box. Only then did she notice the rest of her starting equipment. A fishing rod lay near the edge of the raft, old enough to look like it had lived several past lives. Next to it sat an iron grappling hook, spotted with rust and tied to a fraying rope. The moment she focused on them, translucent stat panels popped up in front of her eyes. [Worn Fishing Rod] [Quality: Poor] [Description: Standard beginner item. Everyone gets one. Can be used for fishing.] [Worn Throwing Hook] [Quality: Poor] [Everyone gets one of these starter tools. Use it to snag whatever junk's floating by on the waves.] [Dilapidated Wooden Raft] [Sturdiness: 1 (May fall apart at any time.)] [Speed: 0 (It's a busted raft. Manage your expectations.)] [Storage Capacity: 0/10 slots] [Durability: 100/100] [Upgrade requirements: 20 Wood, 10 Cloth, 10 Seaweeds, 1 Iron Ore, 1 Dull Pearl.] [(Upgrade unavailable. Insufficient materials.)] After reading through the raft's stats, Gwen finally understood just how bad things were. Five billion people around the world had been dumped into this so-called survival game. Everyone started the same way. One useless raft. No food. No fresh water. And a three-day countdown. Technically, a person could survive about a week without food if they were careful. But the ocean storm coming in three days would wipe out this raft without even trying. A structural rating of one might as well be a death sentence. If she wanted to live, upgrading this floating pile of wood wasn't optional. It was everything. Gwen had never been the kind of person who wasted energy complaining about fate. When she realized something couldn't be changed, she made the only sensible choice. She adapted, and she did it fast. That was how the world worked. Survival of the fittest. The strong stayed standing, and everyone else got swept aside. She understood that rule instinctively. So while the global chat was still packed with people shouting, whining, and melting down in real time, Gwen was already moving, quietly collecting whatever she could get her hands on. She wrapped the rope of the throwing hook securely around her wrist and locked onto a wooden plank drifting about fifteen feet straight ahead. The metal hook sliced through the air with a sharp whistle. It grazed the edge of the plank and missed. The hook splashed into the water and vanished beneath the surface, swallowed whole by the sea. Gwen pulled the rope, reeling the hook back in. She had underestimated how fast the hook traveled, and she hadn't accounted for the way the current nudged floating debris forward. Lesson learned. On the second throw, she adjusted her timing and released. The hook landed squarely in the middle of the plank. Nailed it. She hauled it in and noticed a strip of bright green seaweed tangled around the bottom. [Item acquired: 1 Wood, 1 Seaweed] A buy-one-get-one deal. She wasn't complaining. Everything she collected was automatically transferred into the raft's storage. A notification popped up as the capacity updated to 2 out of 500. No breaks. Gwen's eyes were already on the next piece of debris. [Wood+1] [Cloth +1] [Seaweed +1] ***** Three hours later, Gwen barely had to think about it anymore. Her wrist felt sore, sure, but her accuracy was ridiculous. Anything she aimed at might as well have been glued to the hook. Misses were rare. She checked her inventory. Twenty three pieces of wood. Eleven cloth. Ten seaweed. That was enough to upgrade the raft. What she still needed was iron ore and that dull-looking pearl. And she had no clue where either of those came from. Out of curiosity, she glanced back at the global chat. The conversation had moved on. Everyone was now arguing about the newbie loot boxes. [Are you kidding me? Five pieces of wood. That's it?] [I got two bottles of water. Best day of my life. I was about to pass out.] [Five wood gang here.] [Same. Five wood.] [Same here.] [So the devs really went full gacha scam on us, huh?] [This is supposed to be a starter reward, not a slap in the face.] [Cry more. Check out what I pulled.] One message stood out immediately. Someone had posted a full item card. [Shark Tooth Dagger] [Quality: Common] [A dagger made from shark teeth. Sharp enough. Deals double damage to sharks.] 'Wait, weapons are in the loot boxes too?' Gwen thought, surprised. Gwen scrolled. Weapon pulls were rare. Most people got basic materials. Some luckier players scored food, fresh water, binoculars, or flint. One insanely lucky player claimed they had pulled one hundred dull pearls. Gwen's eyes narrowed. The raft upgrade required one pearl. She still had no idea how to get one, and it was obvious these were way more valuable than wood or cloth. The pearl guy wasted no time. [Selling extra pearls. One pearl for 200 wood, cloth, or seaweed.] [Two hundred wood for one pearl? Just mug us next time.] [I fished up a giant oyster with the starter rod. Cracked it open, pearl inside. If you want pearls, go fishing.] [Fishing my ass. I've been sitting here for an hour and nothing's biting.] [Same. Didn't catch a thing and almost fell in.] [Basic fishing tip. You need bait. I tore off a piece of bread from a loot box, tied it to the hook, instant fish.] [So what you're saying is I need food to get food?] [No bait means no fish. No fish means no food. This game is evil.] [Selling one piece of wheat bread, 150 grams, for 200 wood. First come, first served.] [Dude, that's even worse than the pearl guy.] [I would rather starve than trade my pride for bread.] [Trading newbie blind box for five pieces of wheat bread.] [People are selling blind boxes already?] [My luck sucks anyway. Five wood isn't doing me any favors.] Everyone was brand new, all stuck with the same problems. No food. No water. The moment someone had extras, prices went through the roof. Gwen felt the faint tug of hunger in her stomach after hours of work, but it was manageable. She wasn't desperate yet. Trading valuable resources for food now would just mean grinding for someone else's benefit. She picked up the blind box resting on the raft. Trading it for bread was probably the smart move. Still, Gwen hesitated. Compared to five pieces of wood, taking a shot at luck didn't seem like the worst idea in the world. Chapter 2 The Legendary Rod Gwen worked a thumb under the seal and muttered a quick prayer to the loot gods. 'Not lumber. Please not lumber. If it isn't a weapon, let it be food.' The box popped, and a long, slender rod shimmered into her hand. [Lucky Octo Fishing Rod] [Quality: Legendary] [Comes with a jelly octopus lure that gives off a strange scent and has ridiculous suction. Guarantees a bite with every cast and greatly increases your odds of pulling rare fish and rare items. [Fair warning: certain uncanny creatures are also drawn to it. Use with care. [Anglers never get skunked!] Gwen's eyes lit up. 'Talk about perfect timing. With a rod that comes with its own bait, I don't have to worry about finding any myself.' And it was legendary. Back home she had dabbled in those cheesy pay to win MMOs where numbers fly off mobs like confetti. Legendary sounded a whole lot sweeter than the common dagger people were flexing in global chat. Shame it was a fishing rod. She would have killed for something she could swing. Still, no sense getting greedy. Compared to the poor souls who drew five planks, this was an S tier start. She gave the rod a closer look. The build was miles ahead of the starter stick, with fancy scrollwork carved into the grip. A clear little octopus hung at the end of the line, glossy and wobbly like a gummy candy. She tapped it with a fingertip. The tiny octopus twitched, then latched on with all eight arms. Okay, that suction was no joke. She couldn't peel it off. Gwen muttered, "Easy there, buddy. Let go." She rapped it gently on the head with her other hand. The octopus seemed to realize it had the wrong target and unhooked itself, almost apologetic. Gwen faced the open water, set her stance, and sent the line out in a clean, pretty arc. Legendary or not, she fully expected a bite. That warning about uncanny creatures in the description went straight into the mental trash. 'When your stomach is filing complaints, you do not worry about sea spooks. If it is edible, it is eligible,' Gwen scoffed to herself. Two minutes had not even passed when the float snapped under and vanished. Her wrist dipped. The rod bowed into a tidy arc under the pull. Fish on. The fight was nothing. She hauled up in one smooth motion and slapped a small, silver bright fish onto the raft. Its tail drummed the boards like a snare. [You obtained: Jack Mackerel x1] [Auto dismantle? (System processing reduces yield.) ] She hit Yes. No tools, no way to deal with guts, and she was not about to chew the thing whole like a seal. [You obtained: Jack Mackerel Fillet x3] She weighed the slices in her palm. The fish had to be about a pound, and after the system took its cut, more than a third had evaporated. Highway robbery. Gwen clicked her tongue. Yeah, no. She decided once she had decent tools, she would clean her catch herself. No more letting the system skim her dinner. Her stomach chimed in again. She raised a piece of raw fillet and took a bite. The texture was soft and tender, almost creamy, with a faint sweetness that lingered after she swallowed. 'Fresh caught hits different,' Gwen thought, savoring the flavor. She polished off the fillets in a few quick bites. Maybe half full. The fish had been way too small. She wrapped her fingers tighter around the rod and cast again. 'With a rod that literally never come up empty, food is the least of my worries, right?' Not long after, the bobber dipped. Another bite. She reeled it in with barely any effort. The sun was sinking fast, the light thinning into dusk. Whatever was on the hook gleamed against the darkening water, and for a split second she thought she had struck it rich. Then she leaned closer. A starfish. [Glowing Starfish] [Inedible. Emits light at night. Can be used as an adorable bedside lamp.] Gwen stared at it, the corners of her mouth twitching. 'Awesome,' she thought. 'Real cute. Totally useless.' It didn't struggle or try to crawl away, so she dumped it off to the side of the raft. After that, things went completely sideways. She caught two more horse mackerel and one sea bream. Everything else was glowing starfish. Blue ones. Green ones. Pink ones. They stacked up until half the raft was covered, like they had organized a group outing and decided her hook was the place to be. Gwen squinted at the pile and sighed. 'Did I drop anchor in a starfish daycare or what?' The night sky was pitch black, no moon, no stars. The heap of glowing starfish became the only light around, colors weaving together and shifting constantly. Blue, green, pink, purple, all bleeding into each other. Her face, her hands, even the wooden planks under her boots were washed in that unreal glow. The light spilled out onto the surrounding sea, making it look like the raft was drifting through a magical field of stars. There was no sail, but the raft kept moving with the current. Maybe she really had drifted straight into their territory. That would explain a lot. She rubbed her sore wrist just as a familiar system chime sounded. [Heads up, players: It is now 11:00 p.m. Between 11:00 p.m. and 5:00 a.m., the chance of catching eerie creatures and special items is doubled. We recommend getting proper rest. Staying up late is bad for your health.] Three fish. All small. That was the entire haul. Not great. She needed enough to eat tomorrow, and she had hoped to trade extra fish for fresh water with other players. The system's cheerful warning made her uneasy. Gwen exhaled slowly. 'One last cast,' she told herself. 'If it's another glow stick with legs, I'm done for the night.' She cast again. A few minutes passed, then her rod dipped hard. This time the weight nearly yanked it from her hands. Now that was more like it. Sixty pounds at least. Probably more. She braced her feet and started reeling, a grin breaking through. Finally. Anything but another starfish. Gwen had always been strong. As a kid she dominated both sprints and distance runs. In college she could hoist a full water jug with one hand, no problem. When she rolled up her sleeves, muscle lines stood out clear as day. She gave the line a sharp tug and frowned. Whatever she had hooked was not fighting back. No thrashing. No pull. Just dead weight. "Don't tell me I snagged a rock,' she thought. 'Maybe coral.' She reeled it in steadily and dragged it up alongside the raft. Then she grabbed it with both hands and hauled it aboard. It turned out to be a wine barrel, easily half as tall as she was. Gwen didn't open it right away. She leaned in and knocked on the lid, listening. Nothing moved. Satisfied, she slid a wooden plank into the seam and pried. The lid popped loose, and a wave of stale, rotten air rushed out. Gwen pinched her nose and leaned over to look inside. Curled within the barrel was a complete human skeleton. The skull wore a wide-brimmed pirate tricorn, complete with an eyepatch. The left hand still clutched a rusted revolver. On the right hand, something caught the light, flashing brightly on a finger bone. It was a ring. Chapter 3 The Legacy Of A Special Profession Out on the open ocean in the middle of the night, the moon threw a cold wash of light into the barrel and turned those bones paper white. The empty sockets stared at Gwen. Creepy, sure, if one scared easy. Gwen didn't. She lifted an eyebrow, more bored than bothered. 'Please,' she thought, 'it's a skeleton. Back when it was breathing, it couldn't have gone one round with me. Now that it's dead, I'm not losing a wink of sleep.' She reached in and fished out the soaked pirate hat. [Captain Malcolm's Pirate Hat] [Quality: uncommon (Damaged, repairable)] [A swaggering captain's hat that radiates command presence. While worn, crewwide morale +1 when you issue orders.] Not bad. Better tier than that shark-tooth dagger folks had been flexing in global chat. She checked the pistol, then the ring. [Rusted Revolver] [Quality: Uncommon (Damaged, repairable)] [Just your average revolver, but after soaking in seawater for years, the barrel's rusted and the aim's not what it used to be.] The revolver was the same tier as the hat, both out of commission until she fixed them. Her eyes slid to the ring, and that was it. Hooked. [Ring of the Undead] [Quality: Legendary] [Wearing this triggers the Ghost Pirate class inheritance. Cannot be removed.] [Curse: Upon death you will become a skeleton; your soul will not find rest.] [Includes 1,000-slot storage.] (Item rarity, low to high: Poor - Common - Uncommon - Rare - Epic- Unique - Legendary) Gwen held her breath, grinning despite herself. Another Legendary. She had no clue what a Ghost Pirate did, but Legendary meant heavy hitters. Plus a thousand storage slots. Her raft had, what, ten? The curse? Please. In a survival game this rough, most players were lucky to make it a few days. To her, worrying about the afterlife felt like putting a roof on a house one hadn't framed yet. She slid the ring on without hesitation. [You have obtained a special class: Ghost Pirate.] [You have acquired the class skills Spectral Footwork and Bone Reanimation.] [Spectral Footwork: Your movement becomes spectral; no one can pin you down. Blink to any point within 33 feet. Costs 10 magic points. Cooldown: 30 minutes.] [Bone Reanimation: Stir bones back to motion as your loyal minion. Costs 100 mana. (Requires bones to be at least 80% intact.)] [Congratulations! You are the first player on the server to obtain a special class. Reward: System Blind Box x1. It will be airdropped to your raft shortly.] A wooden crate stamped with question marks thumped onto the raft out of thin air. Gwen barely looked at it. She was too busy savoring the jackpot. Spectral Footwork was the perfect panic button, pure blink-and-you-missed-it. Bone Reanimation sounded downright busted in the best way. 'Raise bones? Seriously? So if I grab enough bones, do I get to field my own skeleton army?' The idea hit her like a wave, ridiculous and thrilling in equal measure. Her eyes slid to the bones stuffed in the wine barrel. 'Look at that. A starter kit, already assembled.' She tried Bone Reanimation. [Skill activation failed. Insufficient magic points.] 'Magic points?' She blinked. Back in college, she had mainlined power-fantasy web serials, so the term rang a bell. She flicked through the system overlay until she found a tucked-away character sheet. [ID: Player #29786510] [Title: None] [Class: Ghost Pirate, Tier 1 (upgrade requires reviving 10 skeletons, progress 0/10)] [Constitution: 5 (affects disease resistance, toughness, and HP, 1 point = 10 HP)] [Strength: 7 (affects how much weight you can lift.)] [Agility: 6 (affects speed and flexibility.)] [Intelligence: 8 (affects mana capacity and mana recovery, 1 point = 10 magic points.)] [Luck: Hidden (affects treasure finds and the odds of good breaks.)] [Charisma: Hidden (affects NPC attitudes toward you.)] [HP: 50] [Magic Points: 80] [Skills: Spectral Footwork, Bone Reanimation.] That cleared it up. Magic points scaled off Intelligence. She was going to need to bump INT to at least ten. She checked the pirate hat and the revolver next. The hat needed a Tailor class and five pieces of cloth to repair. The revolver wanted a Blacksmith class, two iron ore, and, naturally, bullets. Which meant both items were benched for now. She packed every resource into the Ring of the Undead. Her overloaded raft suddenly had room to breathe. The barrel and the skeleton were still hogging space, so she tried to stash those too. The next second, a black eyepatch tumbled out and landed by her foot. She picked it up, surprised. The skull's eyepatch wasn't just a prop. It was gear, and she had almost missed it. [Captain Malcolm's Eyepatch] [Quality: Unique (Upgradable)] [Effect: Lets the wearer read basic player info. A reliable companion for wholesome activities like piracy, robbery, and doing crimes with style. Also looks cool. A pirate without an eyepatch is just a guy in a hat.] That was way too useful to pass up. She slipped it on. Her left eye went dark, her world narrowed, and the lack of depth felt weird. Then she spotted a Hide Appearance toggle in the UI, tapped it, and the eyepatch vanished while her vision snapped back to normal. 'Nice quality-of-life touch,' she thought. Otherwise she might as well tattoo "I'm a pirate" on her forehead. A Lucky Octo Fishing Rod, the Ring of the Undead, and now an eyepatch like a cheat code. The game had been live for a single day and she already had three pieces of Unique-grade gear or better. "Unique" meant one of one across the entire server. As in, only hers. "Luck" was listed as hidden, sure, but she was pretty confident her number there wasn't small. Riding the hot streak, she cracked open the system's loot box. [1 Monocular Telescope, 2 Sun-Protective Sports Outfits, 1 Fisherman's Happy Folding Kit, 1 Mysterious Fruit, 10 Global Chat Megaphones, 10 Coconuts, 10 Straws] Hard to say if this haul was statistically blessed without a leaderboard, but the stuff itself was solid. The telescope and sunproof clothing were gold on open water. Better yet, she had drinkable liquid. Ten coconuts would keep her hydrated for three or four days. The Fisherman's Happy Folding Kit was a sun umbrella, a folding chair, a little folding table, a fish basket, and a landing net. Her raft was about forty square feet, just big enough to pop open the chair and table. Which meant tonight she didn't have to sleep on bare planks. That felt like a win. Each player got ten messages a day on the global chat. Anything beyond that needed a megaphone item. Gwen wasn't big on global chatter, so those megaphones were the least useful thing in the pile. Which left one last item staring up at her. The mysterious fruit. Chapter 4 Glowing Starfish Sells Out The Mysterious Fruit was about the size of an apple, but that was where the familiarity ended. The whole thing was an unnatural shade of blue, with strange spiral patterns etched across the skin. It looked less like food and more like something pulled straight out of a cartoon fantasy series. Blue was not a hunger-friendly color. Just holding it made Gwen doubt her life choices. Still, this had come from a system blind box. She was sure the game was not going to hand her a reward and quietly kill her with it. Probably. She closed her eyes, steeled herself, and took a bite. 'Huh. It is actually… fine,' she thought. A little like a blueberry and an apple had teamed up and decided to be refreshing. The moment she swallowed, a crisp notification chimed in her head. [You have consumed a Mysterious Fruit. Intelligence +1.] Gwen's eyes snapped open. 'Seriously? Right when I needed it?' She had been worrying five minutes ago about how to raise her Intelligence stat, and now the game just dropped the answer into her lap. Or rather, into her mouth. Of course, she knew better than to get used to it. This fruit had come from a system blind box she earned by hitting first place server-wide. That kind of luck did not exactly grow on trees. By the time she finished marveling at it, the clock was creeping toward midnight. Before calling it a night, Gwen casually opened the global chat. And immediately regretted it. [It's pitch black out here. Someone help. I hate tight spaces and the ocean is freaking me out!] [Trading fresh water for anything that gives light.] [One flint for one hundred wood. Or food and water. I'm flexible.] [A hundred wood? You out of your mind?] [Pulled a wooden crate while salvaging. Got a brazier blueprint. I can craft braziers for people. Materials are five charcoal, ten wood. Crafting fee is one iron ore.] [Iron ore is harder to find than food. If I had ore, I would upgrade my raft. Anyone got extra?] Gwen blinked. 'Flint and braziers are already this hot?' She glanced at the folding table beside her raft. The glowing starfish sat there quietly, glowing with a soft blue light, steady and warm like a night lamp. If people were desperate for light, this little thing could easily put a brazier to shame. Another message exploded into the chat. [Do not fish at night. I hooked a sea snake and it bit me. I'm poisoned and my HP is dropping nonstop. I'm almost dead. Does anyone have an antidote potion? I'll trade everything I own!] [Antidotes are insanely rare. No one is giving that up.] [Yeah, that stuff saves your life. No amount of resources is worth it.] The mockery came fast, piling on without mercy. Then one message cut through the noise. Wind in the Night: [I have one. I don't need it right now. I'll trade it to you. Saving a life matters.] Gwen froze for a second. 'Wow. People like that still exist?' [Oh my god, thank you. You're a saint. I owe you big time, seriously!] The gratitude barely finished before the floodgates opened. [Hey, boss, got any food? Haven't eaten all day, I'm dying here.] [Bro, I'm completely out of fresh water. My throat feels like sandpaper. Can you spare a little? Half a bottle even?] [Wait, do you have another antidote? I got bit too. I'm dizzy, can't see straight. I think I'm done for.] The chat went absolutely feral, messages flying so fast they blurred together. Gwen sighed and shook her head. 'Kindness itself is not a mistake. But in a survival game where everyone is one bad decision away from death, being too kind was just another way to paint a target on your back.' A moment later, Wind in the Night replied again: [Sorry, guys. I don't have much. I only found that one antidote in a salvage crate.] ***** Meanwhile, thousands of miles away on the open ocean, a young woman sat on a wooden raft, scrolling through the chat feed with a scowl. 'Unbelievable,' she thought. 'How are there this many shameless people out here? What, is everybody a beggar now?' She flicked the screen again, irritation simmering. 'And don't get me started on that guy who promised me his entire life savings for an antidote. 'I sent it over fair and square. He popped into public chat, dropped a couple half-hearted 'thanks,' and then poof, gone. Straight-up ghosted me. Didn't even toss me a single scrap of wood.' Gwen: [Glowing starfish. Trade for one pound of food or one pint of fresh water, or any practical tools or gear. Multiple colors. First come, first served.] She attached a live photo. On her folding table sat a starfish pulsing a soft electric blue, brighter than a nightlight, throwing a dreamy glow across the black water. [A starfish that glows? That's so beautiful!] [I want one.] [Way better deal than flint. Gimme two.] [Dude, who's speed-clicking these? They're gone already?] The chat spun off into starfish mania, and Ellen Hammond finally let herself breathe. Before this whole mess, she'd been a doctor in training, the kind who runs toward the crash cart on instinct. Helping people was hardwired. But staring at the private messages piling up—each more entitled than the last—she felt it in her bones: the world had shifted. Different rules now. Good thing she'd walked back her earlier claim and said the antidote was a lucky find. If people figured out she could make the stuff, the headache would be a hundred times worse. Riding the wave of attention, Gwen listed the glowing starfish on the trading market and threw another ping into public chat so nobody would miss it. Her handle had been a string of numbers, but when the system asked if she wanted to rename, she swapped it to her real first name. Before this, she had been a regular college kid working her way through med training, no beef with anyone, and whenever she played games she used her actual name because coming up with aliases felt like homework. People hawking flint and brazier in public had priced them into the stratosphere. Most players didn't have that much wood or food on hand, and only a couple had sold. Gwen still had more than thirty glowing starfish, so she marked them to move. If she cleared them out, she could always fish up more tomorrow. She did not expect a feeding frenzy. In under a minute, every last one was gone. Thirty-five glowing starfish netted her fourteen small wheat rolls, two baskets of blueberries, one stick of butter, a can of sweet corn, a small bag of salt, and a dozen-plus 16.9-ounce bottles of water. For now, food and fresh water were not her immediate problems. She was about to close the system panel and crash when a private message popped. Right Side of the Law: [Got any extra glowing starfish? I can trade a weapon.] [Iron Short Dagger] [Quality: common] [A plain little dagger. Good enough for self defense.] Gwen's eyes brightened. The revolver she'd found earlier was a no-go for now, but this dagger would actually see use. Handy for protection, handy for spearing a fish, and no more paying a system cut just to get things done. She fired back fast: [I've got one last starfish. I can trade it to you.] She had a high tolerance for the dark, with or without a nightlight. The trade came through almost instantly. Ding. Dagger acquired. Right Side of the Law was a bit put off. [Why is it blue? I wanted pink.] Gwen looked at the very macho ID, paused, then typed: [I'll fish again tomorrow. If I snag a pink one, I'll square you away with it.] Two glowing starfish for a weapon like this was still a win in her ledger. [Cool,] he replied, and went quiet. She knew if he could casually toss a dagger like that into a trade, he probably had something better on deck. So she was not the only lucky one out here. Gwen flattened her folding chair and stretched out. The night had a chill, so she pulled both sets of sweats from her starter rewards over herself like blankets. She had spent all day hauling salvage and fishing. Her body could take it—only her arms felt heavy—but the mental load was the real drain. One second one was in their life, the next they were in a survival game on a raft with nothing but horizon, no food, no water, and a requirement to improvise or die. Someone fragile, or in a rough headspace, might have gone overboard already. Not Gwen. Even if she were the last person breathing, she was not checking out. She tugged the sweats up to her chin and let her thoughts unspool, ready to drift. That was when the sound hit—low, weird, and wrong, like an electric hum sawing at the edges of the night. Gwen's eyes snapped open. Chapter 5 The First Island The sea was rougher than it had been all day. Gwen pushed herself up and tried to trace the sound. In the washed-out moonlight, a shadow the size of a battleship slid beneath the raft, slow and silent. The swell it kicked up smacked her 43-square-feet platform twice, hard enough to rattle her teeth. Pressure crept in from every direction, something heavy and invisible. Her knee went soft and she nearly toppled. From below came a long, low call, a bass note that felt like it rose from the spine of the ocean. Whale, she thought for a second. Then no. People weren't supposed to hear whale song like that, not raw and close. Set against that thing, her raft was a leaf hitting a pond, flimsy and not worth a second look. Maybe the creature decided the bite wasn't worth the effort, or maybe the newbie-protection rules boxed it in. It lingered a while under the surface, then drifted off like it had all the time in the world. Now she got why everyone was scrambling for anything that made light. In the dark, fear didn't just grow, it multiplied. She spent the night curled in the folding chair. At dawn the sun hauled itself up off the horizon and stabbed her awake. She opened her eyes to a blinding coin hung over endless water. The sea lay flat and windless, glittering like hammered glass. It was calm enough to make last night feel fake. But she trusted her eyes. The water here looked clear, sure, but the blue ran close to black. That meant depth, the kind one measured in chills. She ate a simple breakfast: wheat bread with butter, a few blueberries, and the leftover sashimi from yesterday. That was when she noticed the trick. Inside the Ring of the Undead, time was frozen. Food came out as fresh as it went in. The raft's storage, though, played by normal rules, which meant rot. Lucky she had only tossed two scraps of fish in there. The valuable stuff stayed on her person. She pulled a fishing rod from the ring and set a line while the morning was still kind. With luck she might snag a pearl oyster and upgrade the raft. Her rod had a never-get-skunked buff built in. Other players weren't so lucky, and their bite rates were a joke. Even without pearls, any fish she hauled up could be traded later. After what she saw last night, an upgrade was not optional. Once newbie protection ended, if that thing came back, a raft with durability scraping zero might as well come with a note that said: jump first. While she watched the bobber, she cracked open public chat. Morning or not, it was already blowing up. [Server-wide bounty on a player named Sweltering Nights. He jacked my sister's boat and got her killed. You drop him, I pay five days of food and fresh water, plus one iron ore!] [You gotta be kidding me. System said no PvP during newbie protection. How's anyone pulling a robbery?] [For real. I rolled up on some rando earlier, a transparent shield popped the second I got close. No boarding, period.] [His class is Pirate. He isn't bound by the system's penalties. How is Pirate even a class? Heads up, you see one, do not get soft. It's you or him.] Gwen's stomach dipped. 'So there are other players who've rolled Pirate too?' she thought. Then she breathed and reminded herself she was Ghost Pirate, not the same thing. A legendary ring didn't exactly grow on trees. [Getting drafted into this survival mess is already bad. Now we've got pirates shanking our own? Killing over a handful of supplies, for real?] [Bet they're thugs IRL. If he can straight-up kill like that, dude's probably already done time. Put him down and I won't lose sleep.] [Bro, if I spot him, I'll get justice for your sister. Even if I can't win, I'll drop you the coords.] [Thanks, everyone.] The channel slid into cursing and vows, open season on Pirates. Gwen read in silence. For now, Pirate meant public enemy. Until she had the muscle to back it up, she figured it was smarter not to advertise that she was the Ghost Pirate. No need to hand anyone a reason to dogpile her. Just then, the rod dipped hard and yanked her attention back. She stood, reeled in, and popped the bait out of the water. Another glowing starfish spun on the line, glowing a bright toxic green. She clicked her tongue. 'Wrong color, universe. I need pink, not green.' The Right Side of the Law wanted pink one. She flicked the starfish into her ring for storage. When she looked up, a pinprick of black sat on the far line of the sea, sharp against the moving blue. She pulled out her monocular and took a long look. "An island," she breathed. "No way." Excitement sparked in her chest. This was the first island she had seen, period. H Her raft did not even have a sail. Wherever it drifted, it drifted on the whim of the waves. No one in global chat had bragged about setting foot on an island either. She tamped the rush down, folded her beach chair and sun umbrella, and cleared her view. Through the lens, the island lined up neatly with her drift path. Half an hour later, the raft bobbed within 60 feet of shore. Gwen tied her grappling rope around her waist, clipped the other end tight to the storage chest on the raft, and tugged hard to check it. The chest was bolted straight into the planks. Rock solid. She took a breath and dove. She was no pro, but she could dog paddle and freestyle well enough. Kicking hard, she hauled the raft along. With seawater doing most of the lifting, a 43‑square‑feet raft felt like almost nothing. It was not nearly as tiring as it looked. There was no anchor onboard, and she did not trust the swell. She dragged the raft all the way onto the beach before letting go. A system prompt flickered in her view. [You have discovered an unclaimed island. Explore the island. Locate the Heart of the Island to claim it as your territory.] [Landing limit: 48 hours. If you overstay, you will be removed from the island.] The second message instantly shattered Gwen's little scheme. There went the plan to camp here if it proved safe. An island sounded better than bobbing on open water, but a timer made sense. It was a survival game. If everyone could just squat on an island forever, nobody would risk the sea. Still. The Heart of the Isand. Claim the whole thing. That put a spark in her head. She unhitched the rope from her waist and tied it around a palm trunk to keep the raft from getting snatched by the tide. Then she headed inland, eyes up, taking everything in. The island was not big. Maybe over a square mile, tops. The beach fringe was stacked with palm trees heavy with coconuts. Deeper in, palms gave way to dense shrubs hung with clusters of orange‑yellow fruit, little lanterns glowing in the green. They looked familiar. She picked one, brought it to her nose, and smiled. Sea buckthorn. She knew it from her milkshake shop days. The juice was sweet and tart, perfect when people were thirsty and worn out, easy on the stomach too. She did not start picking. First job was making sure the place would not try to kill her. Suddenly, a soft rustle brushed her ear. Something small and dark shot past her feet. Gwen glanced down and moved on instinct. She lunged, caught it clean, and lifted the squirming thing before it could disappear. Chapter 6 Stickup [You have captured a plump red-shelled coconut crab.] [Red-Shelled Coconut Crab: Tender, edible meat. Shell usable for crafting.] For once, the system actually bothered to dress things up. Gwen weighed the crab in her hand. It was pretty hefty, easily seven or eight pounds. Gwen weighed the crab in her hand. 'Heavy. A solid eight, maybe nine pounds,' she figured. 'Not bad at all.' She'd never eaten coconut crab before. Never had the chance, really. Funny how getting dumped into a survival game was what finally earned her a lifetime seafood buffet. Coconut crabs were slow, clumsy things. Ten minutes later, she had caught five more without breaking a sweat and dumped them neatly into her storage ring. She remembered the documentaries. Coconut crabs usually came out at night, their shells a dull blue-green meant to disappear into shadows. These, though, were bright red, like they had already been boiled. Another reminder that whatever world this was, it played by its own rules. The island itself was small. Gwen pushed through a final wall of brush and emerged near its center. The jungle thinned abruptly, opening into a wide stretch of sand that felt almost desert-like. Something gleamed. Chunks of raw ore rose straight out of the sand, scattered like oversized weeds. Sunlight bounced off the metal, sharp and unmistakable. Gwen froze. 'Iron! And not just a little.' Iron ore was the real bottleneck in the game. One needed it for raft upgrades, and players practically fought over scraps. Most of what existed came from rare loot chests pulled up from the ocean. And here it was, sitting in plain sight on a forgettable little island. 'Jackpot,' Gwen thought, her heart pounding with excitement. Then she spotted the chest. It was nestled among the iron deposits sat a bronze-bound coffer. The copper lock was mottled with rust and barely holding together, tilting just enough to look inviting. Like it was calling out to be opened. Her excitement cooled instead of spiking. 'A chest sitting dead center in an iron field? That is weird. Too convenient,' she mused. 'Could this be a trap?' She started toward it anyway. Behind her, sand shifted softly. Not the lazy scrape of a coconut crab. Something lighter. Intentional. Without turning her head, Gwen flicked her eyes sideways. Near a coconut tree behind her, a shadow clung to the trunk. It was subtle, just a shade darker than it should have been, but it did not belong there. She clocked it instantly. Behind that tree, the player known as Sweltering Nights tightened his grip on a slim knife. 'Seriously? I barely moved my foot. Is she some kind of paranoid freak, or just stupidly sharp?' he thought. He watched her posture. No sudden movements. No weapons drawn. She kept strolling toward the chest like nothing had happened. He exhaled, slow and relieved. 'Guess I was overthinking it,' he thought. 'Anyone with a pulse would lose their mind over a chest that size. Nobody would pay attention to a little background noise.' Gwen's back was wide open now. Greed flickered across his eyes. 'Let her open it first. Once she pops that chest, I'm cashing in again today.' Gwen stopped in front of the chest and leaned closer, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "Just sitting out here like this…" she muttered. "Feels like it belongs to someone already. Yeah, no. Probably shouldn't mess with other people's stuff." 'Wait. What?' Sweltering Nights nearly choked. 'Did she seriously just say that? 'Who does that? Who sees a treasure chest and decides to walk away? Was she bugged? Glitched? Or just plain nuts?' He couldn't hold it in. He sprang from behind a tree, blade catching the light as he aimed the tip right at her throat. "Robbery! Hand it over!" he barked. Gwen flinched for show, but her gaze slipped over the ragged-looking guy in front of her. In her left eye, a neat little panel blinked to life. [Player ID: Sweltering Nights] [Class: Pirate] [Sin Points: 30] [Bounty: 100 Shell Tokens] [Upgrade Captain Malcolm's Eyepatch to reveal more hidden info.] Sweltering Nights. She knew that tag. He was the pirate everyone tore into on global chat this morning. 'What are the odds,' she thought. "Dump your supplies," he said, licking salt-dry lips, "and maybe I let you walk." He was already counting his winnings. An empty island and a soft target delivered to him. He was already counting his winnings. An empty island and a soft target delivered to him. Ever since he robbed his first player, he'd learned how sweet the pirate life ran. Folks combed the sea for days for scraps, but one good blade got him more in a minute. His eyes dragged over Gwen's face. Way prettier than the last one he hit. 'If she plays nice and coughs up her haul, maybe I'll tie her up and take her back to the boat for a little entertainment,' he thought. The second that dirty thought formed, Gwen vanished. One heartbeat she was there. The next, the back of his neck turned to ice. Gwen stood behind him with a rough iron dagger snug against his throat. The whole scene flipped in a blink. "Now this is a robbery," Gwen said, cool as a tide pool. "H-How..." Sweltering Nights stared, eyes going wide. 'What the hell is she, a mage? How did she pull that off? Disappear here, pop up there, no normal person can do that,' he thought, his mind spinning. 'Wait, she has to have some special class, some skill firing at the right moment. 'Damn it, I let my guard down.' "Dump your supplies," Gwen said flatly, her face giving away nothing at all. "Do that, and I'll make sure you die quick. No pain." He froze. 'Wasn't that my line just a second ago? Only she's colder than me, and she isn't even pretending I get to walk out of here.' Sweltering Nights gritted his teeth. "I screwed up, alright? My bad. I'll give you all my supplies, every bit. Just let me go, yeah? Only pirates can loot a player's ship. If you kill me, you get nothing." He wasn't bluffing. The system's newbie protection covered ships, not two people standing on a beach. If they were on board, Gwen couldn't have touched him. Before he came ashore, he left the good stuff on his raft, just in case. If she killed him now, she walked away empty-handed. Gwen didn't answer. She drove her knee straight into his spine. He face-planted, mouth full of sand, hacking and gagging. For someone so slim, she hit like a truck. One knee and his stomach lurched hard enough to bring up lunch. Pinned and dazed, he felt her knife saw through his jacket. She yanked it off him in a single pull. For a split second he panicked. 'Did I seriously just run and face-first into a man-eater? Would've been nice to get a heads-up. 'If it keeps me breathing, I could, you know, make a little personal sacrifice.' Nope. Not even close. Gwen moved fast, ripping strips from his clothes and cinching his wrists and ankles tight. Her grappling line was already tied to the raft, so fabric was the only rope on hand. She wasn't about to slice up her own gear. His would do. "Crawl over there. Open the chest," Gwen said. -------------------------------------------------- There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)
🔥😱Gwen Swann never expected to be stranded on a raft in the middle of the ocean. Somehow, there were billions of people in the same situation as her, having been transported by a system which forced them to survive in the seas. It was a game and only the toughest and smartest would come out top. Unlike others who started complaining, unable to wrap their heads what was happening, Gwen started taking stock of what she had and got a move on. There was no time to lose when everyone was fighting for resources. Fortunately for her, she seemed to be having a stroke of luck, and the ocean blessed her with rich pickings. Soon, she was making trades and befriending other players. But as time passed, things took a darker turn. Gwen would soon realize this wasn't merely a game. There would be times when she had to kill or be killed herself… ------------------------------------------- Chapter 1 Raft Survival: Global Edition The sky above Gwen Swann was a clean, endless blue. No clouds. No contrails. Under her, the ocean went on forever, a dark mouth that did not blink. She sat on a raft barely 43 square feet in area. No land. No boats. No gulls. Just water and the slap of waves. The spray soaked her jeans and the fabric stuck cold to her legs, like the sea was claiming her piece by piece. Gwen stared ahead, her mind completely blank. She was pretty sure that five minutes ago, she'd been at the office, half-dead from overtime, staring at a spreadsheet and wondering if coffee counted as dinner. Gwen thought, 'Kidnapped? By who, exactly. 'I am a soft target with nothing to my name. What, someone hauled me out here to inherit my student loans and maxed-out Visa?' A translucent screen flickered into view at the corner of her vision, like a heads-up display from a game. Lines of text scrolled by. [Global Chat]: [Okay, no joke, where the hell are we?] [I was literally about to clutch a pentakill and now I'm in the ocean. This has to be a prank.] [Someone tell me I'm dreaming. Or knock me out. Either works.] [Is anyone else here actually real? I don't see a single person.] [I'm gonna throw up. I get seasick on this boat. This is not funny.] [Bro, calling this thing a boat is generous. My dog's crate is bigger.] [Seasick? Try having deep-sea phobia. I swear something huge just swam under my raft.] [Nana, if you're watching from heaven, please don't let me die like this!] Gwen exhaled quietly. 'Good. I am not alone. At least this nightmare has company.' The chat continued to dissolve into chaos, but before she could read more, another voice cut through everything. Cold. Flat. Inhuman. It didn't come from the screen. It came from inside her head. [Congratulations. You have entered the Ocean Survival Game. Player ID: 29,786,510. [All five billion players have successfully entered the game. The Grand Sea Route is now officially open. Please remember the following navigation rules. [From this point forward, your life will take place at sea. You may collect resources by salvaging floating debris, fishing, and exploring islands in order to upgrade your vessel and survive. [During the New Player Protection Period, players are prohibited from attacking one another. Violations will result in system penalties. [The New Player Protection Period lasts three days. During this time, overall difficulty is significantly reduced. Use this window wisely and gather supplies as quickly as possible. [You have one life. Please do not waste it. [After the protection period ends, the global event "Ocean Storm" will begin. [Warning: the storm will destroy all vessels with a Sturdiness Value below five. Upgrade your ship to ensure survival. [A Beginner Blind Box has been delivered to your vessel. Happy sailing.] Right on cue, something dropped from above. A small wooden box hit the raft with a dull thump and slid to a stop near Gwen's feet. A large question mark was painted on the lid. So this was the so-called Beginner Blind Box. Only then did she notice the rest of her starting equipment. A fishing rod lay near the edge of the raft, old enough to look like it had lived several past lives. Next to it sat an iron grappling hook, spotted with rust and tied to a fraying rope. The moment she focused on them, translucent stat panels popped up in front of her eyes. [Worn Fishing Rod] [Quality: Poor] [Description: Standard beginner item. Everyone gets one. Can be used for fishing.] [Worn Throwing Hook] [Quality: Poor] [Everyone gets one of these starter tools. Use it to snag whatever junk's floating by on the waves.] [Dilapidated Wooden Raft] [Sturdiness: 1 (May fall apart at any time.)] [Speed: 0 (It's a busted raft. Manage your expectations.)] [Storage Capacity: 0/10 slots] [Durability: 100/100] [Upgrade requirements: 20 Wood, 10 Cloth, 10 Seaweeds, 1 Iron Ore, 1 Dull Pearl.] [(Upgrade unavailable. Insufficient materials.)] After reading through the raft's stats, Gwen finally understood just how bad things were. Five billion people around the world had been dumped into this so-called survival game. Everyone started the same way. One useless raft. No food. No fresh water. And a three-day countdown. Technically, a person could survive about a week without food if they were careful. But the ocean storm coming in three days would wipe out this raft without even trying. A structural rating of one might as well be a death sentence. If she wanted to live, upgrading this floating pile of wood wasn't optional. It was everything. Gwen had never been the kind of person who wasted energy complaining about fate. When she realized something couldn't be changed, she made the only sensible choice. She adapted, and she did it fast. That was how the world worked. Survival of the fittest. The strong stayed standing, and everyone else got swept aside. She understood that rule instinctively. So while the global chat was still packed with people shouting, whining, and melting down in real time, Gwen was already moving, quietly collecting whatever she could get her hands on. She wrapped the rope of the throwing hook securely around her wrist and locked onto a wooden plank drifting about fifteen feet straight ahead. The metal hook sliced through the air with a sharp whistle. It grazed the edge of the plank and missed. The hook splashed into the water and vanished beneath the surface, swallowed whole by the sea. Gwen pulled the rope, reeling the hook back in. She had underestimated how fast the hook traveled, and she hadn't accounted for the way the current nudged floating debris forward. Lesson learned. On the second throw, she adjusted her timing and released. The hook landed squarely in the middle of the plank. Nailed it. She hauled it in and noticed a strip of bright green seaweed tangled around the bottom. [Item acquired: 1 Wood, 1 Seaweed] A buy-one-get-one deal. She wasn't complaining. Everything she collected was automatically transferred into the raft's storage. A notification popped up as the capacity updated to 2 out of 500. No breaks. Gwen's eyes were already on the next piece of debris. [Wood+1] [Cloth +1] [Seaweed +1] ***** Three hours later, Gwen barely had to think about it anymore. Her wrist felt sore, sure, but her accuracy was ridiculous. Anything she aimed at might as well have been glued to the hook. Misses were rare. She checked her inventory. Twenty three pieces of wood. Eleven cloth. Ten seaweed. That was enough to upgrade the raft. What she still needed was iron ore and that dull-looking pearl. And she had no clue where either of those came from. Out of curiosity, she glanced back at the global chat. The conversation had moved on. Everyone was now arguing about the newbie loot boxes. [Are you kidding me? Five pieces of wood. That's it?] [I got two bottles of water. Best day of my life. I was about to pass out.] [Five wood gang here.] [Same. Five wood.] [Same here.] [So the devs really went full gacha scam on us, huh?] [This is supposed to be a starter reward, not a slap in the face.] [Cry more. Check out what I pulled.] One message stood out immediately. Someone had posted a full item card. [Shark Tooth Dagger] [Quality: Common] [A dagger made from shark teeth. Sharp enough. Deals double damage to sharks.] 'Wait, weapons are in the loot boxes too?' Gwen thought, surprised. Gwen scrolled. Weapon pulls were rare. Most people got basic materials. Some luckier players scored food, fresh water, binoculars, or flint. One insanely lucky player claimed they had pulled one hundred dull pearls. Gwen's eyes narrowed. The raft upgrade required one pearl. She still had no idea how to get one, and it was obvious these were way more valuable than wood or cloth. The pearl guy wasted no time. [Selling extra pearls. One pearl for 200 wood, cloth, or seaweed.] [Two hundred wood for one pearl? Just mug us next time.] [I fished up a giant oyster with the starter rod. Cracked it open, pearl inside. If you want pearls, go fishing.] [Fishing my ass. I've been sitting here for an hour and nothing's biting.] [Same. Didn't catch a thing and almost fell in.] [Basic fishing tip. You need bait. I tore off a piece of bread from a loot box, tied it to the hook, instant fish.] [So what you're saying is I need food to get food?] [No bait means no fish. No fish means no food. This game is evil.] [Selling one piece of wheat bread, 150 grams, for 200 wood. First come, first served.] [Dude, that's even worse than the pearl guy.] [I would rather starve than trade my pride for bread.] [Trading newbie blind box for five pieces of wheat bread.] [People are selling blind boxes already?] [My luck sucks anyway. Five wood isn't doing me any favors.] Everyone was brand new, all stuck with the same problems. No food. No water. The moment someone had extras, prices went through the roof. Gwen felt the faint tug of hunger in her stomach after hours of work, but it was manageable. She wasn't desperate yet. Trading valuable resources for food now would just mean grinding for someone else's benefit. She picked up the blind box resting on the raft. Trading it for bread was probably the smart move. Still, Gwen hesitated. Compared to five pieces of wood, taking a shot at luck didn't seem like the worst idea in the world. Chapter 2 The Legendary Rod Gwen worked a thumb under the seal and muttered a quick prayer to the loot gods. 'Not lumber. Please not lumber. If it isn't a weapon, let it be food.' The box popped, and a long, slender rod shimmered into her hand. [Lucky Octo Fishing Rod] [Quality: Legendary] [Comes with a jelly octopus lure that gives off a strange scent and has ridiculous suction. Guarantees a bite with every cast and greatly increases your odds of pulling rare fish and rare items. [Fair warning: certain uncanny creatures are also drawn to it. Use with care. [Anglers never get skunked!] Gwen's eyes lit up. 'Talk about perfect timing. With a rod that comes with its own bait, I don't have to worry about finding any myself.' And it was legendary. Back home she had dabbled in those cheesy pay to win MMOs where numbers fly off mobs like confetti. Legendary sounded a whole lot sweeter than the common dagger people were flexing in global chat. Shame it was a fishing rod. She would have killed for something she could swing. Still, no sense getting greedy. Compared to the poor souls who drew five planks, this was an S tier start. She gave the rod a closer look. The build was miles ahead of the starter stick, with fancy scrollwork carved into the grip. A clear little octopus hung at the end of the line, glossy and wobbly like a gummy candy. She tapped it with a fingertip. The tiny octopus twitched, then latched on with all eight arms. Okay, that suction was no joke. She couldn't peel it off. Gwen muttered, "Easy there, buddy. Let go." She rapped it gently on the head with her other hand. The octopus seemed to realize it had the wrong target and unhooked itself, almost apologetic. Gwen faced the open water, set her stance, and sent the line out in a clean, pretty arc. Legendary or not, she fully expected a bite. That warning about uncanny creatures in the description went straight into the mental trash. 'When your stomach is filing complaints, you do not worry about sea spooks. If it is edible, it is eligible,' Gwen scoffed to herself. Two minutes had not even passed when the float snapped under and vanished. Her wrist dipped. The rod bowed into a tidy arc under the pull. Fish on. The fight was nothing. She hauled up in one smooth motion and slapped a small, silver bright fish onto the raft. Its tail drummed the boards like a snare. [You obtained: Jack Mackerel x1] [Auto dismantle? (System processing reduces yield.) ] She hit Yes. No tools, no way to deal with guts, and she was not about to chew the thing whole like a seal. [You obtained: Jack Mackerel Fillet x3] She weighed the slices in her palm. The fish had to be about a pound, and after the system took its cut, more than a third had evaporated. Highway robbery. Gwen clicked her tongue. Yeah, no. She decided once she had decent tools, she would clean her catch herself. No more letting the system skim her dinner. Her stomach chimed in again. She raised a piece of raw fillet and took a bite. The texture was soft and tender, almost creamy, with a faint sweetness that lingered after she swallowed. 'Fresh caught hits different,' Gwen thought, savoring the flavor. She polished off the fillets in a few quick bites. Maybe half full. The fish had been way too small. She wrapped her fingers tighter around the rod and cast again. 'With a rod that literally never come up empty, food is the least of my worries, right?' Not long after, the bobber dipped. Another bite. She reeled it in with barely any effort. The sun was sinking fast, the light thinning into dusk. Whatever was on the hook gleamed against the darkening water, and for a split second she thought she had struck it rich. Then she leaned closer. A starfish. [Glowing Starfish] [Inedible. Emits light at night. Can be used as an adorable bedside lamp.] Gwen stared at it, the corners of her mouth twitching. 'Awesome,' she thought. 'Real cute. Totally useless.' It didn't struggle or try to crawl away, so she dumped it off to the side of the raft. After that, things went completely sideways. She caught two more horse mackerel and one sea bream. Everything else was glowing starfish. Blue ones. Green ones. Pink ones. They stacked up until half the raft was covered, like they had organized a group outing and decided her hook was the place to be. Gwen squinted at the pile and sighed. 'Did I drop anchor in a starfish daycare or what?' The night sky was pitch black, no moon, no stars. The heap of glowing starfish became the only light around, colors weaving together and shifting constantly. Blue, green, pink, purple, all bleeding into each other. Her face, her hands, even the wooden planks under her boots were washed in that unreal glow. The light spilled out onto the surrounding sea, making it look like the raft was drifting through a magical field of stars. There was no sail, but the raft kept moving with the current. Maybe she really had drifted straight into their territory. That would explain a lot. She rubbed her sore wrist just as a familiar system chime sounded. [Heads up, players: It is now 11:00 p.m. Between 11:00 p.m. and 5:00 a.m., the chance of catching eerie creatures and special items is doubled. We recommend getting proper rest. Staying up late is bad for your health.] Three fish. All small. That was the entire haul. Not great. She needed enough to eat tomorrow, and she had hoped to trade extra fish for fresh water with other players. The system's cheerful warning made her uneasy. Gwen exhaled slowly. 'One last cast,' she told herself. 'If it's another glow stick with legs, I'm done for the night.' She cast again. A few minutes passed, then her rod dipped hard. This time the weight nearly yanked it from her hands. Now that was more like it. Sixty pounds at least. Probably more. She braced her feet and started reeling, a grin breaking through. Finally. Anything but another starfish. Gwen had always been strong. As a kid she dominated both sprints and distance runs. In college she could hoist a full water jug with one hand, no problem. When she rolled up her sleeves, muscle lines stood out clear as day. She gave the line a sharp tug and frowned. Whatever she had hooked was not fighting back. No thrashing. No pull. Just dead weight. "Don't tell me I snagged a rock,' she thought. 'Maybe coral.' She reeled it in steadily and dragged it up alongside the raft. Then she grabbed it with both hands and hauled it aboard. It turned out to be a wine barrel, easily half as tall as she was. Gwen didn't open it right away. She leaned in and knocked on the lid, listening. Nothing moved. Satisfied, she slid a wooden plank into the seam and pried. The lid popped loose, and a wave of stale, rotten air rushed out. Gwen pinched her nose and leaned over to look inside. Curled within the barrel was a complete human skeleton. The skull wore a wide-brimmed pirate tricorn, complete with an eyepatch. The left hand still clutched a rusted revolver. On the right hand, something caught the light, flashing brightly on a finger bone. It was a ring. Chapter 3 The Legacy Of A Special Profession Out on the open ocean in the middle of the night, the moon threw a cold wash of light into the barrel and turned those bones paper white. The empty sockets stared at Gwen. Creepy, sure, if one scared easy. Gwen didn't. She lifted an eyebrow, more bored than bothered. 'Please,' she thought, 'it's a skeleton. Back when it was breathing, it couldn't have gone one round with me. Now that it's dead, I'm not losing a wink of sleep.' She reached in and fished out the soaked pirate hat. [Captain Malcolm's Pirate Hat] [Quality: uncommon (Damaged, repairable)] [A swaggering captain's hat that radiates command presence. While worn, crewwide morale +1 when you issue orders.] Not bad. Better tier than that shark-tooth dagger folks had been flexing in global chat. She checked the pistol, then the ring. [Rusted Revolver] [Quality: Uncommon (Damaged, repairable)] [Just your average revolver, but after soaking in seawater for years, the barrel's rusted and the aim's not what it used to be.] The revolver was the same tier as the hat, both out of commission until she fixed them. Her eyes slid to the ring, and that was it. Hooked. [Ring of the Undead] [Quality: Legendary] [Wearing this triggers the Ghost Pirate class inheritance. Cannot be removed.] [Curse: Upon death you will become a skeleton; your soul will not find rest.] [Includes 1,000-slot storage.] (Item rarity, low to high: Poor - Common - Uncommon - Rare - Epic- Unique - Legendary) Gwen held her breath, grinning despite herself. Another Legendary. She had no clue what a Ghost Pirate did, but Legendary meant heavy hitters. Plus a thousand storage slots. Her raft had, what, ten? The curse? Please. In a survival game this rough, most players were lucky to make it a few days. To her, worrying about the afterlife felt like putting a roof on a house one hadn't framed yet. She slid the ring on without hesitation. [You have obtained a special class: Ghost Pirate.] [You have acquired the class skills Spectral Footwork and Bone Reanimation.] [Spectral Footwork: Your movement becomes spectral; no one can pin you down. Blink to any point within 33 feet. Costs 10 magic points. Cooldown: 30 minutes.] [Bone Reanimation: Stir bones back to motion as your loyal minion. Costs 100 mana. (Requires bones to be at least 80% intact.)] [Congratulations! You are the first player on the server to obtain a special class. Reward: System Blind Box x1. It will be airdropped to your raft shortly.] A wooden crate stamped with question marks thumped onto the raft out of thin air. Gwen barely looked at it. She was too busy savoring the jackpot. Spectral Footwork was the perfect panic button, pure blink-and-you-missed-it. Bone Reanimation sounded downright busted in the best way. 'Raise bones? Seriously? So if I grab enough bones, do I get to field my own skeleton army?' The idea hit her like a wave, ridiculous and thrilling in equal measure. Her eyes slid to the bones stuffed in the wine barrel. 'Look at that. A starter kit, already assembled.' She tried Bone Reanimation. [Skill activation failed. Insufficient magic points.] 'Magic points?' She blinked. Back in college, she had mainlined power-fantasy web serials, so the term rang a bell. She flicked through the system overlay until she found a tucked-away character sheet. [ID: Player #29786510] [Title: None] [Class: Ghost Pirate, Tier 1 (upgrade requires reviving 10 skeletons, progress 0/10)] [Constitution: 5 (affects disease resistance, toughness, and HP, 1 point = 10 HP)] [Strength: 7 (affects how much weight you can lift.)] [Agility: 6 (affects speed and flexibility.)] [Intelligence: 8 (affects mana capacity and mana recovery, 1 point = 10 magic points.)] [Luck: Hidden (affects treasure finds and the odds of good breaks.)] [Charisma: Hidden (affects NPC attitudes toward you.)] [HP: 50] [Magic Points: 80] [Skills: Spectral Footwork, Bone Reanimation.] That cleared it up. Magic points scaled off Intelligence. She was going to need to bump INT to at least ten. She checked the pirate hat and the revolver next. The hat needed a Tailor class and five pieces of cloth to repair. The revolver wanted a Blacksmith class, two iron ore, and, naturally, bullets. Which meant both items were benched for now. She packed every resource into the Ring of the Undead. Her overloaded raft suddenly had room to breathe. The barrel and the skeleton were still hogging space, so she tried to stash those too. The next second, a black eyepatch tumbled out and landed by her foot. She picked it up, surprised. The skull's eyepatch wasn't just a prop. It was gear, and she had almost missed it. [Captain Malcolm's Eyepatch] [Quality: Unique (Upgradable)] [Effect: Lets the wearer read basic player info. A reliable companion for wholesome activities like piracy, robbery, and doing crimes with style. Also looks cool. A pirate without an eyepatch is just a guy in a hat.] That was way too useful to pass up. She slipped it on. Her left eye went dark, her world narrowed, and the lack of depth felt weird. Then she spotted a Hide Appearance toggle in the UI, tapped it, and the eyepatch vanished while her vision snapped back to normal. 'Nice quality-of-life touch,' she thought. Otherwise she might as well tattoo "I'm a pirate" on her forehead. A Lucky Octo Fishing Rod, the Ring of the Undead, and now an eyepatch like a cheat code. The game had been live for a single day and she already had three pieces of Unique-grade gear or better. "Unique" meant one of one across the entire server. As in, only hers. "Luck" was listed as hidden, sure, but she was pretty confident her number there wasn't small. Riding the hot streak, she cracked open the system's loot box. [1 Monocular Telescope, 2 Sun-Protective Sports Outfits, 1 Fisherman's Happy Folding Kit, 1 Mysterious Fruit, 10 Global Chat Megaphones, 10 Coconuts, 10 Straws] Hard to say if this haul was statistically blessed without a leaderboard, but the stuff itself was solid. The telescope and sunproof clothing were gold on open water. Better yet, she had drinkable liquid. Ten coconuts would keep her hydrated for three or four days. The Fisherman's Happy Folding Kit was a sun umbrella, a folding chair, a little folding table, a fish basket, and a landing net. Her raft was about forty square feet, just big enough to pop open the chair and table. Which meant tonight she didn't have to sleep on bare planks. That felt like a win. Each player got ten messages a day on the global chat. Anything beyond that needed a megaphone item. Gwen wasn't big on global chatter, so those megaphones were the least useful thing in the pile. Which left one last item staring up at her. The mysterious fruit. Chapter 4 Glowing Starfish Sells Out The Mysterious Fruit was about the size of an apple, but that was where the familiarity ended. The whole thing was an unnatural shade of blue, with strange spiral patterns etched across the skin. It looked less like food and more like something pulled straight out of a cartoon fantasy series. Blue was not a hunger-friendly color. Just holding it made Gwen doubt her life choices. Still, this had come from a system blind box. She was sure the game was not going to hand her a reward and quietly kill her with it. Probably. She closed her eyes, steeled herself, and took a bite. 'Huh. It is actually… fine,' she thought. A little like a blueberry and an apple had teamed up and decided to be refreshing. The moment she swallowed, a crisp notification chimed in her head. [You have consumed a Mysterious Fruit. Intelligence +1.] Gwen's eyes snapped open. 'Seriously? Right when I needed it?' She had been worrying five minutes ago about how to raise her Intelligence stat, and now the game just dropped the answer into her lap. Or rather, into her mouth. Of course, she knew better than to get used to it. This fruit had come from a system blind box she earned by hitting first place server-wide. That kind of luck did not exactly grow on trees. By the time she finished marveling at it, the clock was creeping toward midnight. Before calling it a night, Gwen casually opened the global chat. And immediately regretted it. [It's pitch black out here. Someone help. I hate tight spaces and the ocean is freaking me out!] [Trading fresh water for anything that gives light.] [One flint for one hundred wood. Or food and water. I'm flexible.] [A hundred wood? You out of your mind?] [Pulled a wooden crate while salvaging. Got a brazier blueprint. I can craft braziers for people. Materials are five charcoal, ten wood. Crafting fee is one iron ore.] [Iron ore is harder to find than food. If I had ore, I would upgrade my raft. Anyone got extra?] Gwen blinked. 'Flint and braziers are already this hot?' She glanced at the folding table beside her raft. The glowing starfish sat there quietly, glowing with a soft blue light, steady and warm like a night lamp. If people were desperate for light, this little thing could easily put a brazier to shame. Another message exploded into the chat. [Do not fish at night. I hooked a sea snake and it bit me. I'm poisoned and my HP is dropping nonstop. I'm almost dead. Does anyone have an antidote potion? I'll trade everything I own!] [Antidotes are insanely rare. No one is giving that up.] [Yeah, that stuff saves your life. No amount of resources is worth it.] The mockery came fast, piling on without mercy. Then one message cut through the noise. Wind in the Night: [I have one. I don't need it right now. I'll trade it to you. Saving a life matters.] Gwen froze for a second. 'Wow. People like that still exist?' [Oh my god, thank you. You're a saint. I owe you big time, seriously!] The gratitude barely finished before the floodgates opened. [Hey, boss, got any food? Haven't eaten all day, I'm dying here.] [Bro, I'm completely out of fresh water. My throat feels like sandpaper. Can you spare a little? Half a bottle even?] [Wait, do you have another antidote? I got bit too. I'm dizzy, can't see straight. I think I'm done for.] The chat went absolutely feral, messages flying so fast they blurred together. Gwen sighed and shook her head. 'Kindness itself is not a mistake. But in a survival game where everyone is one bad decision away from death, being too kind was just another way to paint a target on your back.' A moment later, Wind in the Night replied again: [Sorry, guys. I don't have much. I only found that one antidote in a salvage crate.] ***** Meanwhile, thousands of miles away on the open ocean, a young woman sat on a wooden raft, scrolling through the chat feed with a scowl. 'Unbelievable,' she thought. 'How are there this many shameless people out here? What, is everybody a beggar now?' She flicked the screen again, irritation simmering. 'And don't get me started on that guy who promised me his entire life savings for an antidote. 'I sent it over fair and square. He popped into public chat, dropped a couple half-hearted 'thanks,' and then poof, gone. Straight-up ghosted me. Didn't even toss me a single scrap of wood.' Gwen: [Glowing starfish. Trade for one pound of food or one pint of fresh water, or any practical tools or gear. Multiple colors. First come, first served.] She attached a live photo. On her folding table sat a starfish pulsing a soft electric blue, brighter than a nightlight, throwing a dreamy glow across the black water. [A starfish that glows? That's so beautiful!] [I want one.] [Way better deal than flint. Gimme two.] [Dude, who's speed-clicking these? They're gone already?] The chat spun off into starfish mania, and Ellen Hammond finally let herself breathe. Before this whole mess, she'd been a doctor in training, the kind who runs toward the crash cart on instinct. Helping people was hardwired. But staring at the private messages piling up—each more entitled than the last—she felt it in her bones: the world had shifted. Different rules now. Good thing she'd walked back her earlier claim and said the antidote was a lucky find. If people figured out she could make the stuff, the headache would be a hundred times worse. Riding the wave of attention, Gwen listed the glowing starfish on the trading market and threw another ping into public chat so nobody would miss it. Her handle had been a string of numbers, but when the system asked if she wanted to rename, she swapped it to her real first name. Before this, she had been a regular college kid working her way through med training, no beef with anyone, and whenever she played games she used her actual name because coming up with aliases felt like homework. People hawking flint and brazier in public had priced them into the stratosphere. Most players didn't have that much wood or food on hand, and only a couple had sold. Gwen still had more than thirty glowing starfish, so she marked them to move. If she cleared them out, she could always fish up more tomorrow. She did not expect a feeding frenzy. In under a minute, every last one was gone. Thirty-five glowing starfish netted her fourteen small wheat rolls, two baskets of blueberries, one stick of butter, a can of sweet corn, a small bag of salt, and a dozen-plus 16.9-ounce bottles of water. For now, food and fresh water were not her immediate problems. She was about to close the system panel and crash when a private message popped. Right Side of the Law: [Got any extra glowing starfish? I can trade a weapon.] [Iron Short Dagger] [Quality: common] [A plain little dagger. Good enough for self defense.] Gwen's eyes brightened. The revolver she'd found earlier was a no-go for now, but this dagger would actually see use. Handy for protection, handy for spearing a fish, and no more paying a system cut just to get things done. She fired back fast: [I've got one last starfish. I can trade it to you.] She had a high tolerance for the dark, with or without a nightlight. The trade came through almost instantly. Ding. Dagger acquired. Right Side of the Law was a bit put off. [Why is it blue? I wanted pink.] Gwen looked at the very macho ID, paused, then typed: [I'll fish again tomorrow. If I snag a pink one, I'll square you away with it.] Two glowing starfish for a weapon like this was still a win in her ledger. [Cool,] he replied, and went quiet. She knew if he could casually toss a dagger like that into a trade, he probably had something better on deck. So she was not the only lucky one out here. Gwen flattened her folding chair and stretched out. The night had a chill, so she pulled both sets of sweats from her starter rewards over herself like blankets. She had spent all day hauling salvage and fishing. Her body could take it—only her arms felt heavy—but the mental load was the real drain. One second one was in their life, the next they were in a survival game on a raft with nothing but horizon, no food, no water, and a requirement to improvise or die. Someone fragile, or in a rough headspace, might have gone overboard already. Not Gwen. Even if she were the last person breathing, she was not checking out. She tugged the sweats up to her chin and let her thoughts unspool, ready to drift. That was when the sound hit—low, weird, and wrong, like an electric hum sawing at the edges of the night. Gwen's eyes snapped open. Chapter 5 The First Island The sea was rougher than it had been all day. Gwen pushed herself up and tried to trace the sound. In the washed-out moonlight, a shadow the size of a battleship slid beneath the raft, slow and silent. The swell it kicked up smacked her 43-square-feet platform twice, hard enough to rattle her teeth. Pressure crept in from every direction, something heavy and invisible. Her knee went soft and she nearly toppled. From below came a long, low call, a bass note that felt like it rose from the spine of the ocean. Whale, she thought for a second. Then no. People weren't supposed to hear whale song like that, not raw and close. Set against that thing, her raft was a leaf hitting a pond, flimsy and not worth a second look. Maybe the creature decided the bite wasn't worth the effort, or maybe the newbie-protection rules boxed it in. It lingered a while under the surface, then drifted off like it had all the time in the world. Now she got why everyone was scrambling for anything that made light. In the dark, fear didn't just grow, it multiplied. She spent the night curled in the folding chair. At dawn the sun hauled itself up off the horizon and stabbed her awake. She opened her eyes to a blinding coin hung over endless water. The sea lay flat and windless, glittering like hammered glass. It was calm enough to make last night feel fake. But she trusted her eyes. The water here looked clear, sure, but the blue ran close to black. That meant depth, the kind one measured in chills. She ate a simple breakfast: wheat bread with butter, a few blueberries, and the leftover sashimi from yesterday. That was when she noticed the trick. Inside the Ring of the Undead, time was frozen. Food came out as fresh as it went in. The raft's storage, though, played by normal rules, which meant rot. Lucky she had only tossed two scraps of fish in there. The valuable stuff stayed on her person. She pulled a fishing rod from the ring and set a line while the morning was still kind. With luck she might snag a pearl oyster and upgrade the raft. Her rod had a never-get-skunked buff built in. Other players weren't so lucky, and their bite rates were a joke. Even without pearls, any fish she hauled up could be traded later. After what she saw last night, an upgrade was not optional. Once newbie protection ended, if that thing came back, a raft with durability scraping zero might as well come with a note that said: jump first. While she watched the bobber, she cracked open public chat. Morning or not, it was already blowing up. [Server-wide bounty on a player named Sweltering Nights. He jacked my sister's boat and got her killed. You drop him, I pay five days of food and fresh water, plus one iron ore!] [You gotta be kidding me. System said no PvP during newbie protection. How's anyone pulling a robbery?] [For real. I rolled up on some rando earlier, a transparent shield popped the second I got close. No boarding, period.] [His class is Pirate. He isn't bound by the system's penalties. How is Pirate even a class? Heads up, you see one, do not get soft. It's you or him.] Gwen's stomach dipped. 'So there are other players who've rolled Pirate too?' she thought. Then she breathed and reminded herself she was Ghost Pirate, not the same thing. A legendary ring didn't exactly grow on trees. [Getting drafted into this survival mess is already bad. Now we've got pirates shanking our own? Killing over a handful of supplies, for real?] [Bet they're thugs IRL. If he can straight-up kill like that, dude's probably already done time. Put him down and I won't lose sleep.] [Bro, if I spot him, I'll get justice for your sister. Even if I can't win, I'll drop you the coords.] [Thanks, everyone.] The channel slid into cursing and vows, open season on Pirates. Gwen read in silence. For now, Pirate meant public enemy. Until she had the muscle to back it up, she figured it was smarter not to advertise that she was the Ghost Pirate. No need to hand anyone a reason to dogpile her. Just then, the rod dipped hard and yanked her attention back. She stood, reeled in, and popped the bait out of the water. Another glowing starfish spun on the line, glowing a bright toxic green. She clicked her tongue. 'Wrong color, universe. I need pink, not green.' The Right Side of the Law wanted pink one. She flicked the starfish into her ring for storage. When she looked up, a pinprick of black sat on the far line of the sea, sharp against the moving blue. She pulled out her monocular and took a long look. "An island," she breathed. "No way." Excitement sparked in her chest. This was the first island she had seen, period. H Her raft did not even have a sail. Wherever it drifted, it drifted on the whim of the waves. No one in global chat had bragged about setting foot on an island either. She tamped the rush down, folded her beach chair and sun umbrella, and cleared her view. Through the lens, the island lined up neatly with her drift path. Half an hour later, the raft bobbed within 60 feet of shore. Gwen tied her grappling rope around her waist, clipped the other end tight to the storage chest on the raft, and tugged hard to check it. The chest was bolted straight into the planks. Rock solid. She took a breath and dove. She was no pro, but she could dog paddle and freestyle well enough. Kicking hard, she hauled the raft along. With seawater doing most of the lifting, a 43‑square‑feet raft felt like almost nothing. It was not nearly as tiring as it looked. There was no anchor onboard, and she did not trust the swell. She dragged the raft all the way onto the beach before letting go. A system prompt flickered in her view. [You have discovered an unclaimed island. Explore the island. Locate the Heart of the Island to claim it as your territory.] [Landing limit: 48 hours. If you overstay, you will be removed from the island.] The second message instantly shattered Gwen's little scheme. There went the plan to camp here if it proved safe. An island sounded better than bobbing on open water, but a timer made sense. It was a survival game. If everyone could just squat on an island forever, nobody would risk the sea. Still. The Heart of the Isand. Claim the whole thing. That put a spark in her head. She unhitched the rope from her waist and tied it around a palm trunk to keep the raft from getting snatched by the tide. Then she headed inland, eyes up, taking everything in. The island was not big. Maybe over a square mile, tops. The beach fringe was stacked with palm trees heavy with coconuts. Deeper in, palms gave way to dense shrubs hung with clusters of orange‑yellow fruit, little lanterns glowing in the green. They looked familiar. She picked one, brought it to her nose, and smiled. Sea buckthorn. She knew it from her milkshake shop days. The juice was sweet and tart, perfect when people were thirsty and worn out, easy on the stomach too. She did not start picking. First job was making sure the place would not try to kill her. Suddenly, a soft rustle brushed her ear. Something small and dark shot past her feet. Gwen glanced down and moved on instinct. She lunged, caught it clean, and lifted the squirming thing before it could disappear. Chapter 6 Stickup [You have captured a plump red-shelled coconut crab.] [Red-Shelled Coconut Crab: Tender, edible meat. Shell usable for crafting.] For once, the system actually bothered to dress things up. Gwen weighed the crab in her hand. It was pretty hefty, easily seven or eight pounds. Gwen weighed the crab in her hand. 'Heavy. A solid eight, maybe nine pounds,' she figured. 'Not bad at all.' She'd never eaten coconut crab before. Never had the chance, really. Funny how getting dumped into a survival game was what finally earned her a lifetime seafood buffet. Coconut crabs were slow, clumsy things. Ten minutes later, she had caught five more without breaking a sweat and dumped them neatly into her storage ring. She remembered the documentaries. Coconut crabs usually came out at night, their shells a dull blue-green meant to disappear into shadows. These, though, were bright red, like they had already been boiled. Another reminder that whatever world this was, it played by its own rules. The island itself was small. Gwen pushed through a final wall of brush and emerged near its center. The jungle thinned abruptly, opening into a wide stretch of sand that felt almost desert-like. Something gleamed. Chunks of raw ore rose straight out of the sand, scattered like oversized weeds. Sunlight bounced off the metal, sharp and unmistakable. Gwen froze. 'Iron! And not just a little.' Iron ore was the real bottleneck in the game. One needed it for raft upgrades, and players practically fought over scraps. Most of what existed came from rare loot chests pulled up from the ocean. And here it was, sitting in plain sight on a forgettable little island. 'Jackpot,' Gwen thought, her heart pounding with excitement. Then she spotted the chest. It was nestled among the iron deposits sat a bronze-bound coffer. The copper lock was mottled with rust and barely holding together, tilting just enough to look inviting. Like it was calling out to be opened. Her excitement cooled instead of spiking. 'A chest sitting dead center in an iron field? That is weird. Too convenient,' she mused. 'Could this be a trap?' She started toward it anyway. Behind her, sand shifted softly. Not the lazy scrape of a coconut crab. Something lighter. Intentional. Without turning her head, Gwen flicked her eyes sideways. Near a coconut tree behind her, a shadow clung to the trunk. It was subtle, just a shade darker than it should have been, but it did not belong there. She clocked it instantly. Behind that tree, the player known as Sweltering Nights tightened his grip on a slim knife. 'Seriously? I barely moved my foot. Is she some kind of paranoid freak, or just stupidly sharp?' he thought. He watched her posture. No sudden movements. No weapons drawn. She kept strolling toward the chest like nothing had happened. He exhaled, slow and relieved. 'Guess I was overthinking it,' he thought. 'Anyone with a pulse would lose their mind over a chest that size. Nobody would pay attention to a little background noise.' Gwen's back was wide open now. Greed flickered across his eyes. 'Let her open it first. Once she pops that chest, I'm cashing in again today.' Gwen stopped in front of the chest and leaned closer, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "Just sitting out here like this…" she muttered. "Feels like it belongs to someone already. Yeah, no. Probably shouldn't mess with other people's stuff." 'Wait. What?' Sweltering Nights nearly choked. 'Did she seriously just say that? 'Who does that? Who sees a treasure chest and decides to walk away? Was she bugged? Glitched? Or just plain nuts?' He couldn't hold it in. He sprang from behind a tree, blade catching the light as he aimed the tip right at her throat. "Robbery! Hand it over!" he barked. Gwen flinched for show, but her gaze slipped over the ragged-looking guy in front of her. In her left eye, a neat little panel blinked to life. [Player ID: Sweltering Nights] [Class: Pirate] [Sin Points: 30] [Bounty: 100 Shell Tokens] [Upgrade Captain Malcolm's Eyepatch to reveal more hidden info.] Sweltering Nights. She knew that tag. He was the pirate everyone tore into on global chat this morning. 'What are the odds,' she thought. "Dump your supplies," he said, licking salt-dry lips, "and maybe I let you walk." He was already counting his winnings. An empty island and a soft target delivered to him. He was already counting his winnings. An empty island and a soft target delivered to him. Ever since he robbed his first player, he'd learned how sweet the pirate life ran. Folks combed the sea for days for scraps, but one good blade got him more in a minute. His eyes dragged over Gwen's face. Way prettier than the last one he hit. 'If she plays nice and coughs up her haul, maybe I'll tie her up and take her back to the boat for a little entertainment,' he thought. The second that dirty thought formed, Gwen vanished. One heartbeat she was there. The next, the back of his neck turned to ice. Gwen stood behind him with a rough iron dagger snug against his throat. The whole scene flipped in a blink. "Now this is a robbery," Gwen said, cool as a tide pool. "H-How..." Sweltering Nights stared, eyes going wide. 'What the hell is she, a mage? How did she pull that off? Disappear here, pop up there, no normal person can do that,' he thought, his mind spinning. 'Wait, she has to have some special class, some skill firing at the right moment. 'Damn it, I let my guard down.' "Dump your supplies," Gwen said flatly, her face giving away nothing at all. "Do that, and I'll make sure you die quick. No pain." He froze. 'Wasn't that my line just a second ago? Only she's colder than me, and she isn't even pretending I get to walk out of here.' Sweltering Nights gritted his teeth. "I screwed up, alright? My bad. I'll give you all my supplies, every bit. Just let me go, yeah? Only pirates can loot a player's ship. If you kill me, you get nothing." He wasn't bluffing. The system's newbie protection covered ships, not two people standing on a beach. If they were on board, Gwen couldn't have touched him. Before he came ashore, he left the good stuff on his raft, just in case. If she killed him now, she walked away empty-handed. Gwen didn't answer. She drove her knee straight into his spine. He face-planted, mouth full of sand, hacking and gagging. For someone so slim, she hit like a truck. One knee and his stomach lurched hard enough to bring up lunch. Pinned and dazed, he felt her knife saw through his jacket. She yanked it off him in a single pull. For a split second he panicked. 'Did I seriously just run and face-first into a man-eater? Would've been nice to get a heads-up. 'If it keeps me breathing, I could, you know, make a little personal sacrifice.' Nope. Not even close. Gwen moved fast, ripping strips from his clothes and cinching his wrists and ankles tight. Her grappling line was already tied to the raft, so fabric was the only rope on hand. She wasn't about to slice up her own gear. His would do. "Crawl over there. Open the chest," Gwen said. -------------------------------------------------- There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)
🔥😱Gwen Swann never expected to be stranded on a raft in the middle of the ocean. Somehow, there were billions of people in the same situation as her, having been transported by a system which forced them to survive in the seas. It was a game and only the toughest and smartest would come out top. Unlike others who started complaining, unable to wrap their heads what was happening, Gwen started taking stock of what she had and got a move on. There was no time to lose when everyone was fighting for resources. Fortunately for her, she seemed to be having a stroke of luck, and the ocean blessed her with rich pickings. Soon, she was making trades and befriending other players. But as time passed, things took a darker turn. Gwen would soon realize this wasn't merely a game. There would be times when she had to kill or be killed herself… ------------------------------------------- Chapter 1 Raft Survival: Global Edition The sky above Gwen Swann was a clean, endless blue. No clouds. No contrails. Under her, the ocean went on forever, a dark mouth that did not blink. She sat on a raft barely 43 square feet in area. No land. No boats. No gulls. Just water and the slap of waves. The spray soaked her jeans and the fabric stuck cold to her legs, like the sea was claiming her piece by piece. Gwen stared ahead, her mind completely blank. She was pretty sure that five minutes ago, she'd been at the office, half-dead from overtime, staring at a spreadsheet and wondering if coffee counted as dinner. Gwen thought, 'Kidnapped? By who, exactly. 'I am a soft target with nothing to my name. What, someone hauled me out here to inherit my student loans and maxed-out Visa?' A translucent screen flickered into view at the corner of her vision, like a heads-up display from a game. Lines of text scrolled by. [Global Chat]: [Okay, no joke, where the hell are we?] [I was literally about to clutch a pentakill and now I'm in the ocean. This has to be a prank.] [Someone tell me I'm dreaming. Or knock me out. Either works.] [Is anyone else here actually real? I don't see a single person.] [I'm gonna throw up. I get seasick on this boat. This is not funny.] [Bro, calling this thing a boat is generous. My dog's crate is bigger.] [Seasick? Try having deep-sea phobia. I swear something huge just swam under my raft.] [Nana, if you're watching from heaven, please don't let me die like this!] Gwen exhaled quietly. 'Good. I am not alone. At least this nightmare has company.' The chat continued to dissolve into chaos, but before she could read more, another voice cut through everything. Cold. Flat. Inhuman. It didn't come from the screen. It came from inside her head. [Congratulations. You have entered the Ocean Survival Game. Player ID: 29,786,510. [All five billion players have successfully entered the game. The Grand Sea Route is now officially open. Please remember the following navigation rules. [From this point forward, your life will take place at sea. You may collect resources by salvaging floating debris, fishing, and exploring islands in order to upgrade your vessel and survive. [During the New Player Protection Period, players are prohibited from attacking one another. Violations will result in system penalties. [The New Player Protection Period lasts three days. During this time, overall difficulty is significantly reduced. Use this window wisely and gather supplies as quickly as possible. [You have one life. Please do not waste it. [After the protection period ends, the global event "Ocean Storm" will begin. [Warning: the storm will destroy all vessels with a Sturdiness Value below five. Upgrade your ship to ensure survival. [A Beginner Blind Box has been delivered to your vessel. Happy sailing.] Right on cue, something dropped from above. A small wooden box hit the raft with a dull thump and slid to a stop near Gwen's feet. A large question mark was painted on the lid. So this was the so-called Beginner Blind Box. Only then did she notice the rest of her starting equipment. A fishing rod lay near the edge of the raft, old enough to look like it had lived several past lives. Next to it sat an iron grappling hook, spotted with rust and tied to a fraying rope. The moment she focused on them, translucent stat panels popped up in front of her eyes. [Worn Fishing Rod] [Quality: Poor] [Description: Standard beginner item. Everyone gets one. Can be used for fishing.] [Worn Throwing Hook] [Quality: Poor] [Everyone gets one of these starter tools. Use it to snag whatever junk's floating by on the waves.] [Dilapidated Wooden Raft] [Sturdiness: 1 (May fall apart at any time.)] [Speed: 0 (It's a busted raft. Manage your expectations.)] [Storage Capacity: 0/10 slots] [Durability: 100/100] [Upgrade requirements: 20 Wood, 10 Cloth, 10 Seaweeds, 1 Iron Ore, 1 Dull Pearl.] [(Upgrade unavailable. Insufficient materials.)] After reading through the raft's stats, Gwen finally understood just how bad things were. Five billion people around the world had been dumped into this so-called survival game. Everyone started the same way. One useless raft. No food. No fresh water. And a three-day countdown. Technically, a person could survive about a week without food if they were careful. But the ocean storm coming in three days would wipe out this raft without even trying. A structural rating of one might as well be a death sentence. If she wanted to live, upgrading this floating pile of wood wasn't optional. It was everything. Gwen had never been the kind of person who wasted energy complaining about fate. When she realized something couldn't be changed, she made the only sensible choice. She adapted, and she did it fast. That was how the world worked. Survival of the fittest. The strong stayed standing, and everyone else got swept aside. She understood that rule instinctively. So while the global chat was still packed with people shouting, whining, and melting down in real time, Gwen was already moving, quietly collecting whatever she could get her hands on. She wrapped the rope of the throwing hook securely around her wrist and locked onto a wooden plank drifting about fifteen feet straight ahead. The metal hook sliced through the air with a sharp whistle. It grazed the edge of the plank and missed. The hook splashed into the water and vanished beneath the surface, swallowed whole by the sea. Gwen pulled the rope, reeling the hook back in. She had underestimated how fast the hook traveled, and she hadn't accounted for the way the current nudged floating debris forward. Lesson learned. On the second throw, she adjusted her timing and released. The hook landed squarely in the middle of the plank. Nailed it. She hauled it in and noticed a strip of bright green seaweed tangled around the bottom. [Item acquired: 1 Wood, 1 Seaweed] A buy-one-get-one deal. She wasn't complaining. Everything she collected was automatically transferred into the raft's storage. A notification popped up as the capacity updated to 2 out of 500. No breaks. Gwen's eyes were already on the next piece of debris. [Wood+1] [Cloth +1] [Seaweed +1] ***** Three hours later, Gwen barely had to think about it anymore. Her wrist felt sore, sure, but her accuracy was ridiculous. Anything she aimed at might as well have been glued to the hook. Misses were rare. She checked her inventory. Twenty three pieces of wood. Eleven cloth. Ten seaweed. That was enough to upgrade the raft. What she still needed was iron ore and that dull-looking pearl. And she had no clue where either of those came from. Out of curiosity, she glanced back at the global chat. The conversation had moved on. Everyone was now arguing about the newbie loot boxes. [Are you kidding me? Five pieces of wood. That's it?] [I got two bottles of water. Best day of my life. I was about to pass out.] [Five wood gang here.] [Same. Five wood.] [Same here.] [So the devs really went full gacha scam on us, huh?] [This is supposed to be a starter reward, not a slap in the face.] [Cry more. Check out what I pulled.] One message stood out immediately. Someone had posted a full item card. [Shark Tooth Dagger] [Quality: Common] [A dagger made from shark teeth. Sharp enough. Deals double damage to sharks.] 'Wait, weapons are in the loot boxes too?' Gwen thought, surprised. Gwen scrolled. Weapon pulls were rare. Most people got basic materials. Some luckier players scored food, fresh water, binoculars, or flint. One insanely lucky player claimed they had pulled one hundred dull pearls. Gwen's eyes narrowed. The raft upgrade required one pearl. She still had no idea how to get one, and it was obvious these were way more valuable than wood or cloth. The pearl guy wasted no time. [Selling extra pearls. One pearl for 200 wood, cloth, or seaweed.] [Two hundred wood for one pearl? Just mug us next time.] [I fished up a giant oyster with the starter rod. Cracked it open, pearl inside. If you want pearls, go fishing.] [Fishing my ass. I've been sitting here for an hour and nothing's biting.] [Same. Didn't catch a thing and almost fell in.] [Basic fishing tip. You need bait. I tore off a piece of bread from a loot box, tied it to the hook, instant fish.] [So what you're saying is I need food to get food?] [No bait means no fish. No fish means no food. This game is evil.] [Selling one piece of wheat bread, 150 grams, for 200 wood. First come, first served.] [Dude, that's even worse than the pearl guy.] [I would rather starve than trade my pride for bread.] [Trading newbie blind box for five pieces of wheat bread.] [People are selling blind boxes already?] [My luck sucks anyway. Five wood isn't doing me any favors.] Everyone was brand new, all stuck with the same problems. No food. No water. The moment someone had extras, prices went through the roof. Gwen felt the faint tug of hunger in her stomach after hours of work, but it was manageable. She wasn't desperate yet. Trading valuable resources for food now would just mean grinding for someone else's benefit. She picked up the blind box resting on the raft. Trading it for bread was probably the smart move. Still, Gwen hesitated. Compared to five pieces of wood, taking a shot at luck didn't seem like the worst idea in the world. Chapter 2 The Legendary Rod Gwen worked a thumb under the seal and muttered a quick prayer to the loot gods. 'Not lumber. Please not lumber. If it isn't a weapon, let it be food.' The box popped, and a long, slender rod shimmered into her hand. [Lucky Octo Fishing Rod] [Quality: Legendary] [Comes with a jelly octopus lure that gives off a strange scent and has ridiculous suction. Guarantees a bite with every cast and greatly increases your odds of pulling rare fish and rare items. [Fair warning: certain uncanny creatures are also drawn to it. Use with care. [Anglers never get skunked!] Gwen's eyes lit up. 'Talk about perfect timing. With a rod that comes with its own bait, I don't have to worry about finding any myself.' And it was legendary. Back home she had dabbled in those cheesy pay to win MMOs where numbers fly off mobs like confetti. Legendary sounded a whole lot sweeter than the common dagger people were flexing in global chat. Shame it was a fishing rod. She would have killed for something she could swing. Still, no sense getting greedy. Compared to the poor souls who drew five planks, this was an S tier start. She gave the rod a closer look. The build was miles ahead of the starter stick, with fancy scrollwork carved into the grip. A clear little octopus hung at the end of the line, glossy and wobbly like a gummy candy. She tapped it with a fingertip. The tiny octopus twitched, then latched on with all eight arms. Okay, that suction was no joke. She couldn't peel it off. Gwen muttered, "Easy there, buddy. Let go." She rapped it gently on the head with her other hand. The octopus seemed to realize it had the wrong target and unhooked itself, almost apologetic. Gwen faced the open water, set her stance, and sent the line out in a clean, pretty arc. Legendary or not, she fully expected a bite. That warning about uncanny creatures in the description went straight into the mental trash. 'When your stomach is filing complaints, you do not worry about sea spooks. If it is edible, it is eligible,' Gwen scoffed to herself. Two minutes had not even passed when the float snapped under and vanished. Her wrist dipped. The rod bowed into a tidy arc under the pull. Fish on. The fight was nothing. She hauled up in one smooth motion and slapped a small, silver bright fish onto the raft. Its tail drummed the boards like a snare. [You obtained: Jack Mackerel x1] [Auto dismantle? (System processing reduces yield.) ] She hit Yes. No tools, no way to deal with guts, and she was not about to chew the thing whole like a seal. [You obtained: Jack Mackerel Fillet x3] She weighed the slices in her palm. The fish had to be about a pound, and after the system took its cut, more than a third had evaporated. Highway robbery. Gwen clicked her tongue. Yeah, no. She decided once she had decent tools, she would clean her catch herself. No more letting the system skim her dinner. Her stomach chimed in again. She raised a piece of raw fillet and took a bite. The texture was soft and tender, almost creamy, with a faint sweetness that lingered after she swallowed. 'Fresh caught hits different,' Gwen thought, savoring the flavor. She polished off the fillets in a few quick bites. Maybe half full. The fish had been way too small. She wrapped her fingers tighter around the rod and cast again. 'With a rod that literally never come up empty, food is the least of my worries, right?' Not long after, the bobber dipped. Another bite. She reeled it in with barely any effort. The sun was sinking fast, the light thinning into dusk. Whatever was on the hook gleamed against the darkening water, and for a split second she thought she had struck it rich. Then she leaned closer. A starfish. [Glowing Starfish] [Inedible. Emits light at night. Can be used as an adorable bedside lamp.] Gwen stared at it, the corners of her mouth twitching. 'Awesome,' she thought. 'Real cute. Totally useless.' It didn't struggle or try to crawl away, so she dumped it off to the side of the raft. After that, things went completely sideways. She caught two more horse mackerel and one sea bream. Everything else was glowing starfish. Blue ones. Green ones. Pink ones. They stacked up until half the raft was covered, like they had organized a group outing and decided her hook was the place to be. Gwen squinted at the pile and sighed. 'Did I drop anchor in a starfish daycare or what?' The night sky was pitch black, no moon, no stars. The heap of glowing starfish became the only light around, colors weaving together and shifting constantly. Blue, green, pink, purple, all bleeding into each other. Her face, her hands, even the wooden planks under her boots were washed in that unreal glow. The light spilled out onto the surrounding sea, making it look like the raft was drifting through a magical field of stars. There was no sail, but the raft kept moving with the current. Maybe she really had drifted straight into their territory. That would explain a lot. She rubbed her sore wrist just as a familiar system chime sounded. [Heads up, players: It is now 11:00 p.m. Between 11:00 p.m. and 5:00 a.m., the chance of catching eerie creatures and special items is doubled. We recommend getting proper rest. Staying up late is bad for your health.] Three fish. All small. That was the entire haul. Not great. She needed enough to eat tomorrow, and she had hoped to trade extra fish for fresh water with other players. The system's cheerful warning made her uneasy. Gwen exhaled slowly. 'One last cast,' she told herself. 'If it's another glow stick with legs, I'm done for the night.' She cast again. A few minutes passed, then her rod dipped hard. This time the weight nearly yanked it from her hands. Now that was more like it. Sixty pounds at least. Probably more. She braced her feet and started reeling, a grin breaking through. Finally. Anything but another starfish. Gwen had always been strong. As a kid she dominated both sprints and distance runs. In college she could hoist a full water jug with one hand, no problem. When she rolled up her sleeves, muscle lines stood out clear as day. She gave the line a sharp tug and frowned. Whatever she had hooked was not fighting back. No thrashing. No pull. Just dead weight. "Don't tell me I snagged a rock,' she thought. 'Maybe coral.' She reeled it in steadily and dragged it up alongside the raft. Then she grabbed it with both hands and hauled it aboard. It turned out to be a wine barrel, easily half as tall as she was. Gwen didn't open it right away. She leaned in and knocked on the lid, listening. Nothing moved. Satisfied, she slid a wooden plank into the seam and pried. The lid popped loose, and a wave of stale, rotten air rushed out. Gwen pinched her nose and leaned over to look inside. Curled within the barrel was a complete human skeleton. The skull wore a wide-brimmed pirate tricorn, complete with an eyepatch. The left hand still clutched a rusted revolver. On the right hand, something caught the light, flashing brightly on a finger bone. It was a ring. Chapter 3 The Legacy Of A Special Profession Out on the open ocean in the middle of the night, the moon threw a cold wash of light into the barrel and turned those bones paper white. The empty sockets stared at Gwen. Creepy, sure, if one scared easy. Gwen didn't. She lifted an eyebrow, more bored than bothered. 'Please,' she thought, 'it's a skeleton. Back when it was breathing, it couldn't have gone one round with me. Now that it's dead, I'm not losing a wink of sleep.' She reached in and fished out the soaked pirate hat. [Captain Malcolm's Pirate Hat] [Quality: uncommon (Damaged, repairable)] [A swaggering captain's hat that radiates command presence. While worn, crewwide morale +1 when you issue orders.] Not bad. Better tier than that shark-tooth dagger folks had been flexing in global chat. She checked the pistol, then the ring. [Rusted Revolver] [Quality: Uncommon (Damaged, repairable)] [Just your average revolver, but after soaking in seawater for years, the barrel's rusted and the aim's not what it used to be.] The revolver was the same tier as the hat, both out of commission until she fixed them. Her eyes slid to the ring, and that was it. Hooked. [Ring of the Undead] [Quality: Legendary] [Wearing this triggers the Ghost Pirate class inheritance. Cannot be removed.] [Curse: Upon death you will become a skeleton; your soul will not find rest.] [Includes 1,000-slot storage.] (Item rarity, low to high: Poor - Common - Uncommon - Rare - Epic- Unique - Legendary) Gwen held her breath, grinning despite herself. Another Legendary. She had no clue what a Ghost Pirate did, but Legendary meant heavy hitters. Plus a thousand storage slots. Her raft had, what, ten? The curse? Please. In a survival game this rough, most players were lucky to make it a few days. To her, worrying about the afterlife felt like putting a roof on a house one hadn't framed yet. She slid the ring on without hesitation. [You have obtained a special class: Ghost Pirate.] [You have acquired the class skills Spectral Footwork and Bone Reanimation.] [Spectral Footwork: Your movement becomes spectral; no one can pin you down. Blink to any point within 33 feet. Costs 10 magic points. Cooldown: 30 minutes.] [Bone Reanimation: Stir bones back to motion as your loyal minion. Costs 100 mana. (Requires bones to be at least 80% intact.)] [Congratulations! You are the first player on the server to obtain a special class. Reward: System Blind Box x1. It will be airdropped to your raft shortly.] A wooden crate stamped with question marks thumped onto the raft out of thin air. Gwen barely looked at it. She was too busy savoring the jackpot. Spectral Footwork was the perfect panic button, pure blink-and-you-missed-it. Bone Reanimation sounded downright busted in the best way. 'Raise bones? Seriously? So if I grab enough bones, do I get to field my own skeleton army?' The idea hit her like a wave, ridiculous and thrilling in equal measure. Her eyes slid to the bones stuffed in the wine barrel. 'Look at that. A starter kit, already assembled.' She tried Bone Reanimation. [Skill activation failed. Insufficient magic points.] 'Magic points?' She blinked. Back in college, she had mainlined power-fantasy web serials, so the term rang a bell. She flicked through the system overlay until she found a tucked-away character sheet. [ID: Player #29786510] [Title: None] [Class: Ghost Pirate, Tier 1 (upgrade requires reviving 10 skeletons, progress 0/10)] [Constitution: 5 (affects disease resistance, toughness, and HP, 1 point = 10 HP)] [Strength: 7 (affects how much weight you can lift.)] [Agility: 6 (affects speed and flexibility.)] [Intelligence: 8 (affects mana capacity and mana recovery, 1 point = 10 magic points.)] [Luck: Hidden (affects treasure finds and the odds of good breaks.)] [Charisma: Hidden (affects NPC attitudes toward you.)] [HP: 50] [Magic Points: 80] [Skills: Spectral Footwork, Bone Reanimation.] That cleared it up. Magic points scaled off Intelligence. She was going to need to bump INT to at least ten. She checked the pirate hat and the revolver next. The hat needed a Tailor class and five pieces of cloth to repair. The revolver wanted a Blacksmith class, two iron ore, and, naturally, bullets. Which meant both items were benched for now. She packed every resource into the Ring of the Undead. Her overloaded raft suddenly had room to breathe. The barrel and the skeleton were still hogging space, so she tried to stash those too. The next second, a black eyepatch tumbled out and landed by her foot. She picked it up, surprised. The skull's eyepatch wasn't just a prop. It was gear, and she had almost missed it. [Captain Malcolm's Eyepatch] [Quality: Unique (Upgradable)] [Effect: Lets the wearer read basic player info. A reliable companion for wholesome activities like piracy, robbery, and doing crimes with style. Also looks cool. A pirate without an eyepatch is just a guy in a hat.] That was way too useful to pass up. She slipped it on. Her left eye went dark, her world narrowed, and the lack of depth felt weird. Then she spotted a Hide Appearance toggle in the UI, tapped it, and the eyepatch vanished while her vision snapped back to normal. 'Nice quality-of-life touch,' she thought. Otherwise she might as well tattoo "I'm a pirate" on her forehead. A Lucky Octo Fishing Rod, the Ring of the Undead, and now an eyepatch like a cheat code. The game had been live for a single day and she already had three pieces of Unique-grade gear or better. "Unique" meant one of one across the entire server. As in, only hers. "Luck" was listed as hidden, sure, but she was pretty confident her number there wasn't small. Riding the hot streak, she cracked open the system's loot box. [1 Monocular Telescope, 2 Sun-Protective Sports Outfits, 1 Fisherman's Happy Folding Kit, 1 Mysterious Fruit, 10 Global Chat Megaphones, 10 Coconuts, 10 Straws] Hard to say if this haul was statistically blessed without a leaderboard, but the stuff itself was solid. The telescope and sunproof clothing were gold on open water. Better yet, she had drinkable liquid. Ten coconuts would keep her hydrated for three or four days. The Fisherman's Happy Folding Kit was a sun umbrella, a folding chair, a little folding table, a fish basket, and a landing net. Her raft was about forty square feet, just big enough to pop open the chair and table. Which meant tonight she didn't have to sleep on bare planks. That felt like a win. Each player got ten messages a day on the global chat. Anything beyond that needed a megaphone item. Gwen wasn't big on global chatter, so those megaphones were the least useful thing in the pile. Which left one last item staring up at her. The mysterious fruit. Chapter 4 Glowing Starfish Sells Out The Mysterious Fruit was about the size of an apple, but that was where the familiarity ended. The whole thing was an unnatural shade of blue, with strange spiral patterns etched across the skin. It looked less like food and more like something pulled straight out of a cartoon fantasy series. Blue was not a hunger-friendly color. Just holding it made Gwen doubt her life choices. Still, this had come from a system blind box. She was sure the game was not going to hand her a reward and quietly kill her with it. Probably. She closed her eyes, steeled herself, and took a bite. 'Huh. It is actually… fine,' she thought. A little like a blueberry and an apple had teamed up and decided to be refreshing. The moment she swallowed, a crisp notification chimed in her head. [You have consumed a Mysterious Fruit. Intelligence +1.] Gwen's eyes snapped open. 'Seriously? Right when I needed it?' She had been worrying five minutes ago about how to raise her Intelligence stat, and now the game just dropped the answer into her lap. Or rather, into her mouth. Of course, she knew better than to get used to it. This fruit had come from a system blind box she earned by hitting first place server-wide. That kind of luck did not exactly grow on trees. By the time she finished marveling at it, the clock was creeping toward midnight. Before calling it a night, Gwen casually opened the global chat. And immediately regretted it. [It's pitch black out here. Someone help. I hate tight spaces and the ocean is freaking me out!] [Trading fresh water for anything that gives light.] [One flint for one hundred wood. Or food and water. I'm flexible.] [A hundred wood? You out of your mind?] [Pulled a wooden crate while salvaging. Got a brazier blueprint. I can craft braziers for people. Materials are five charcoal, ten wood. Crafting fee is one iron ore.] [Iron ore is harder to find than food. If I had ore, I would upgrade my raft. Anyone got extra?] Gwen blinked. 'Flint and braziers are already this hot?' She glanced at the folding table beside her raft. The glowing starfish sat there quietly, glowing with a soft blue light, steady and warm like a night lamp. If people were desperate for light, this little thing could easily put a brazier to shame. Another message exploded into the chat. [Do not fish at night. I hooked a sea snake and it bit me. I'm poisoned and my HP is dropping nonstop. I'm almost dead. Does anyone have an antidote potion? I'll trade everything I own!] [Antidotes are insanely rare. No one is giving that up.] [Yeah, that stuff saves your life. No amount of resources is worth it.] The mockery came fast, piling on without mercy. Then one message cut through the noise. Wind in the Night: [I have one. I don't need it right now. I'll trade it to you. Saving a life matters.] Gwen froze for a second. 'Wow. People like that still exist?' [Oh my god, thank you. You're a saint. I owe you big time, seriously!] The gratitude barely finished before the floodgates opened. [Hey, boss, got any food? Haven't eaten all day, I'm dying here.] [Bro, I'm completely out of fresh water. My throat feels like sandpaper. Can you spare a little? Half a bottle even?] [Wait, do you have another antidote? I got bit too. I'm dizzy, can't see straight. I think I'm done for.] The chat went absolutely feral, messages flying so fast they blurred together. Gwen sighed and shook her head. 'Kindness itself is not a mistake. But in a survival game where everyone is one bad decision away from death, being too kind was just another way to paint a target on your back.' A moment later, Wind in the Night replied again: [Sorry, guys. I don't have much. I only found that one antidote in a salvage crate.] ***** Meanwhile, thousands of miles away on the open ocean, a young woman sat on a wooden raft, scrolling through the chat feed with a scowl. 'Unbelievable,' she thought. 'How are there this many shameless people out here? What, is everybody a beggar now?' She flicked the screen again, irritation simmering. 'And don't get me started on that guy who promised me his entire life savings for an antidote. 'I sent it over fair and square. He popped into public chat, dropped a couple half-hearted 'thanks,' and then poof, gone. Straight-up ghosted me. Didn't even toss me a single scrap of wood.' Gwen: [Glowing starfish. Trade for one pound of food or one pint of fresh water, or any practical tools or gear. Multiple colors. First come, first served.] She attached a live photo. On her folding table sat a starfish pulsing a soft electric blue, brighter than a nightlight, throwing a dreamy glow across the black water. [A starfish that glows? That's so beautiful!] [I want one.] [Way better deal than flint. Gimme two.] [Dude, who's speed-clicking these? They're gone already?] The chat spun off into starfish mania, and Ellen Hammond finally let herself breathe. Before this whole mess, she'd been a doctor in training, the kind who runs toward the crash cart on instinct. Helping people was hardwired. But staring at the private messages piling up—each more entitled than the last—she felt it in her bones: the world had shifted. Different rules now. Good thing she'd walked back her earlier claim and said the antidote was a lucky find. If people figured out she could make the stuff, the headache would be a hundred times worse. Riding the wave of attention, Gwen listed the glowing starfish on the trading market and threw another ping into public chat so nobody would miss it. Her handle had been a string of numbers, but when the system asked if she wanted to rename, she swapped it to her real first name. Before this, she had been a regular college kid working her way through med training, no beef with anyone, and whenever she played games she used her actual name because coming up with aliases felt like homework. People hawking flint and brazier in public had priced them into the stratosphere. Most players didn't have that much wood or food on hand, and only a couple had sold. Gwen still had more than thirty glowing starfish, so she marked them to move. If she cleared them out, she could always fish up more tomorrow. She did not expect a feeding frenzy. In under a minute, every last one was gone. Thirty-five glowing starfish netted her fourteen small wheat rolls, two baskets of blueberries, one stick of butter, a can of sweet corn, a small bag of salt, and a dozen-plus 16.9-ounce bottles of water. For now, food and fresh water were not her immediate problems. She was about to close the system panel and crash when a private message popped. Right Side of the Law: [Got any extra glowing starfish? I can trade a weapon.] [Iron Short Dagger] [Quality: common] [A plain little dagger. Good enough for self defense.] Gwen's eyes brightened. The revolver she'd found earlier was a no-go for now, but this dagger would actually see use. Handy for protection, handy for spearing a fish, and no more paying a system cut just to get things done. She fired back fast: [I've got one last starfish. I can trade it to you.] She had a high tolerance for the dark, with or without a nightlight. The trade came through almost instantly. Ding. Dagger acquired. Right Side of the Law was a bit put off. [Why is it blue? I wanted pink.] Gwen looked at the very macho ID, paused, then typed: [I'll fish again tomorrow. If I snag a pink one, I'll square you away with it.] Two glowing starfish for a weapon like this was still a win in her ledger. [Cool,] he replied, and went quiet. She knew if he could casually toss a dagger like that into a trade, he probably had something better on deck. So she was not the only lucky one out here. Gwen flattened her folding chair and stretched out. The night had a chill, so she pulled both sets of sweats from her starter rewards over herself like blankets. She had spent all day hauling salvage and fishing. Her body could take it—only her arms felt heavy—but the mental load was the real drain. One second one was in their life, the next they were in a survival game on a raft with nothing but horizon, no food, no water, and a requirement to improvise or die. Someone fragile, or in a rough headspace, might have gone overboard already. Not Gwen. Even if she were the last person breathing, she was not checking out. She tugged the sweats up to her chin and let her thoughts unspool, ready to drift. That was when the sound hit—low, weird, and wrong, like an electric hum sawing at the edges of the night. Gwen's eyes snapped open. Chapter 5 The First Island The sea was rougher than it had been all day. Gwen pushed herself up and tried to trace the sound. In the washed-out moonlight, a shadow the size of a battleship slid beneath the raft, slow and silent. The swell it kicked up smacked her 43-square-feet platform twice, hard enough to rattle her teeth. Pressure crept in from every direction, something heavy and invisible. Her knee went soft and she nearly toppled. From below came a long, low call, a bass note that felt like it rose from the spine of the ocean. Whale, she thought for a second. Then no. People weren't supposed to hear whale song like that, not raw and close. Set against that thing, her raft was a leaf hitting a pond, flimsy and not worth a second look. Maybe the creature decided the bite wasn't worth the effort, or maybe the newbie-protection rules boxed it in. It lingered a while under the surface, then drifted off like it had all the time in the world. Now she got why everyone was scrambling for anything that made light. In the dark, fear didn't just grow, it multiplied. She spent the night curled in the folding chair. At dawn the sun hauled itself up off the horizon and stabbed her awake. She opened her eyes to a blinding coin hung over endless water. The sea lay flat and windless, glittering like hammered glass. It was calm enough to make last night feel fake. But she trusted her eyes. The water here looked clear, sure, but the blue ran close to black. That meant depth, the kind one measured in chills. She ate a simple breakfast: wheat bread with butter, a few blueberries, and the leftover sashimi from yesterday. That was when she noticed the trick. Inside the Ring of the Undead, time was frozen. Food came out as fresh as it went in. The raft's storage, though, played by normal rules, which meant rot. Lucky she had only tossed two scraps of fish in there. The valuable stuff stayed on her person. She pulled a fishing rod from the ring and set a line while the morning was still kind. With luck she might snag a pearl oyster and upgrade the raft. Her rod had a never-get-skunked buff built in. Other players weren't so lucky, and their bite rates were a joke. Even without pearls, any fish she hauled up could be traded later. After what she saw last night, an upgrade was not optional. Once newbie protection ended, if that thing came back, a raft with durability scraping zero might as well come with a note that said: jump first. While she watched the bobber, she cracked open public chat. Morning or not, it was already blowing up. [Server-wide bounty on a player named Sweltering Nights. He jacked my sister's boat and got her killed. You drop him, I pay five days of food and fresh water, plus one iron ore!] [You gotta be kidding me. System said no PvP during newbie protection. How's anyone pulling a robbery?] [For real. I rolled up on some rando earlier, a transparent shield popped the second I got close. No boarding, period.] [His class is Pirate. He isn't bound by the system's penalties. How is Pirate even a class? Heads up, you see one, do not get soft. It's you or him.] Gwen's stomach dipped. 'So there are other players who've rolled Pirate too?' she thought. Then she breathed and reminded herself she was Ghost Pirate, not the same thing. A legendary ring didn't exactly grow on trees. [Getting drafted into this survival mess is already bad. Now we've got pirates shanking our own? Killing over a handful of supplies, for real?] [Bet they're thugs IRL. If he can straight-up kill like that, dude's probably already done time. Put him down and I won't lose sleep.] [Bro, if I spot him, I'll get justice for your sister. Even if I can't win, I'll drop you the coords.] [Thanks, everyone.] The channel slid into cursing and vows, open season on Pirates. Gwen read in silence. For now, Pirate meant public enemy. Until she had the muscle to back it up, she figured it was smarter not to advertise that she was the Ghost Pirate. No need to hand anyone a reason to dogpile her. Just then, the rod dipped hard and yanked her attention back. She stood, reeled in, and popped the bait out of the water. Another glowing starfish spun on the line, glowing a bright toxic green. She clicked her tongue. 'Wrong color, universe. I need pink, not green.' The Right Side of the Law wanted pink one. She flicked the starfish into her ring for storage. When she looked up, a pinprick of black sat on the far line of the sea, sharp against the moving blue. She pulled out her monocular and took a long look. "An island," she breathed. "No way." Excitement sparked in her chest. This was the first island she had seen, period. H Her raft did not even have a sail. Wherever it drifted, it drifted on the whim of the waves. No one in global chat had bragged about setting foot on an island either. She tamped the rush down, folded her beach chair and sun umbrella, and cleared her view. Through the lens, the island lined up neatly with her drift path. Half an hour later, the raft bobbed within 60 feet of shore. Gwen tied her grappling rope around her waist, clipped the other end tight to the storage chest on the raft, and tugged hard to check it. The chest was bolted straight into the planks. Rock solid. She took a breath and dove. She was no pro, but she could dog paddle and freestyle well enough. Kicking hard, she hauled the raft along. With seawater doing most of the lifting, a 43‑square‑feet raft felt like almost nothing. It was not nearly as tiring as it looked. There was no anchor onboard, and she did not trust the swell. She dragged the raft all the way onto the beach before letting go. A system prompt flickered in her view. [You have discovered an unclaimed island. Explore the island. Locate the Heart of the Island to claim it as your territory.] [Landing limit: 48 hours. If you overstay, you will be removed from the island.] The second message instantly shattered Gwen's little scheme. There went the plan to camp here if it proved safe. An island sounded better than bobbing on open water, but a timer made sense. It was a survival game. If everyone could just squat on an island forever, nobody would risk the sea. Still. The Heart of the Isand. Claim the whole thing. That put a spark in her head. She unhitched the rope from her waist and tied it around a palm trunk to keep the raft from getting snatched by the tide. Then she headed inland, eyes up, taking everything in. The island was not big. Maybe over a square mile, tops. The beach fringe was stacked with palm trees heavy with coconuts. Deeper in, palms gave way to dense shrubs hung with clusters of orange‑yellow fruit, little lanterns glowing in the green. They looked familiar. She picked one, brought it to her nose, and smiled. Sea buckthorn. She knew it from her milkshake shop days. The juice was sweet and tart, perfect when people were thirsty and worn out, easy on the stomach too. She did not start picking. First job was making sure the place would not try to kill her. Suddenly, a soft rustle brushed her ear. Something small and dark shot past her feet. Gwen glanced down and moved on instinct. She lunged, caught it clean, and lifted the squirming thing before it could disappear. Chapter 6 Stickup [You have captured a plump red-shelled coconut crab.] [Red-Shelled Coconut Crab: Tender, edible meat. Shell usable for crafting.] For once, the system actually bothered to dress things up. Gwen weighed the crab in her hand. It was pretty hefty, easily seven or eight pounds. Gwen weighed the crab in her hand. 'Heavy. A solid eight, maybe nine pounds,' she figured. 'Not bad at all.' She'd never eaten coconut crab before. Never had the chance, really. Funny how getting dumped into a survival game was what finally earned her a lifetime seafood buffet. Coconut crabs were slow, clumsy things. Ten minutes later, she had caught five more without breaking a sweat and dumped them neatly into her storage ring. She remembered the documentaries. Coconut crabs usually came out at night, their shells a dull blue-green meant to disappear into shadows. These, though, were bright red, like they had already been boiled. Another reminder that whatever world this was, it played by its own rules. The island itself was small. Gwen pushed through a final wall of brush and emerged near its center. The jungle thinned abruptly, opening into a wide stretch of sand that felt almost desert-like. Something gleamed. Chunks of raw ore rose straight out of the sand, scattered like oversized weeds. Sunlight bounced off the metal, sharp and unmistakable. Gwen froze. 'Iron! And not just a little.' Iron ore was the real bottleneck in the game. One needed it for raft upgrades, and players practically fought over scraps. Most of what existed came from rare loot chests pulled up from the ocean. And here it was, sitting in plain sight on a forgettable little island. 'Jackpot,' Gwen thought, her heart pounding with excitement. Then she spotted the chest. It was nestled among the iron deposits sat a bronze-bound coffer. The copper lock was mottled with rust and barely holding together, tilting just enough to look inviting. Like it was calling out to be opened. Her excitement cooled instead of spiking. 'A chest sitting dead center in an iron field? That is weird. Too convenient,' she mused. 'Could this be a trap?' She started toward it anyway. Behind her, sand shifted softly. Not the lazy scrape of a coconut crab. Something lighter. Intentional. Without turning her head, Gwen flicked her eyes sideways. Near a coconut tree behind her, a shadow clung to the trunk. It was subtle, just a shade darker than it should have been, but it did not belong there. She clocked it instantly. Behind that tree, the player known as Sweltering Nights tightened his grip on a slim knife. 'Seriously? I barely moved my foot. Is she some kind of paranoid freak, or just stupidly sharp?' he thought. He watched her posture. No sudden movements. No weapons drawn. She kept strolling toward the chest like nothing had happened. He exhaled, slow and relieved. 'Guess I was overthinking it,' he thought. 'Anyone with a pulse would lose their mind over a chest that size. Nobody would pay attention to a little background noise.' Gwen's back was wide open now. Greed flickered across his eyes. 'Let her open it first. Once she pops that chest, I'm cashing in again today.' Gwen stopped in front of the chest and leaned closer, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "Just sitting out here like this…" she muttered. "Feels like it belongs to someone already. Yeah, no. Probably shouldn't mess with other people's stuff." 'Wait. What?' Sweltering Nights nearly choked. 'Did she seriously just say that? 'Who does that? Who sees a treasure chest and decides to walk away? Was she bugged? Glitched? Or just plain nuts?' He couldn't hold it in. He sprang from behind a tree, blade catching the light as he aimed the tip right at her throat. "Robbery! Hand it over!" he barked. Gwen flinched for show, but her gaze slipped over the ragged-looking guy in front of her. In her left eye, a neat little panel blinked to life. [Player ID: Sweltering Nights] [Class: Pirate] [Sin Points: 30] [Bounty: 100 Shell Tokens] [Upgrade Captain Malcolm's Eyepatch to reveal more hidden info.] Sweltering Nights. She knew that tag. He was the pirate everyone tore into on global chat this morning. 'What are the odds,' she thought. "Dump your supplies," he said, licking salt-dry lips, "and maybe I let you walk." He was already counting his winnings. An empty island and a soft target delivered to him. He was already counting his winnings. An empty island and a soft target delivered to him. Ever since he robbed his first player, he'd learned how sweet the pirate life ran. Folks combed the sea for days for scraps, but one good blade got him more in a minute. His eyes dragged over Gwen's face. Way prettier than the last one he hit. 'If she plays nice and coughs up her haul, maybe I'll tie her up and take her back to the boat for a little entertainment,' he thought. The second that dirty thought formed, Gwen vanished. One heartbeat she was there. The next, the back of his neck turned to ice. Gwen stood behind him with a rough iron dagger snug against his throat. The whole scene flipped in a blink. "Now this is a robbery," Gwen said, cool as a tide pool. "H-How..." Sweltering Nights stared, eyes going wide. 'What the hell is she, a mage? How did she pull that off? Disappear here, pop up there, no normal person can do that,' he thought, his mind spinning. 'Wait, she has to have some special class, some skill firing at the right moment. 'Damn it, I let my guard down.' "Dump your supplies," Gwen said flatly, her face giving away nothing at all. "Do that, and I'll make sure you die quick. No pain." He froze. 'Wasn't that my line just a second ago? Only she's colder than me, and she isn't even pretending I get to walk out of here.' Sweltering Nights gritted his teeth. "I screwed up, alright? My bad. I'll give you all my supplies, every bit. Just let me go, yeah? Only pirates can loot a player's ship. If you kill me, you get nothing." He wasn't bluffing. The system's newbie protection covered ships, not two people standing on a beach. If they were on board, Gwen couldn't have touched him. Before he came ashore, he left the good stuff on his raft, just in case. If she killed him now, she walked away empty-handed. Gwen didn't answer. She drove her knee straight into his spine. He face-planted, mouth full of sand, hacking and gagging. For someone so slim, she hit like a truck. One knee and his stomach lurched hard enough to bring up lunch. Pinned and dazed, he felt her knife saw through his jacket. She yanked it off him in a single pull. For a split second he panicked. 'Did I seriously just run and face-first into a man-eater? Would've been nice to get a heads-up. 'If it keeps me breathing, I could, you know, make a little personal sacrifice.' Nope. Not even close. Gwen moved fast, ripping strips from his clothes and cinching his wrists and ankles tight. Her grappling line was already tied to the raft, so fabric was the only rope on hand. She wasn't about to slice up her own gear. His would do. "Crawl over there. Open the chest," Gwen said. -------------------------------------------------- There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)
🔥Rekindling the Flame of Valhalla Global💪 🤩Norse Mythic Open World MMORPG😆 ✨Login to get VIP for free🎊
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🔥😱Gwen Swann never expected to be stranded on a raft in the middle of the ocean. Somehow, there were billions of people in the same situation as her, having been transported by a system which forced them to survive in the seas. It was a game and only the toughest and smartest would come out top. Unlike others who started complaining, unable to wrap their heads what was happening, Gwen started taking stock of what she had and got a move on. There was no time to lose when everyone was fighting for resources. Fortunately for her, she seemed to be having a stroke of luck, and the ocean blessed her with rich pickings. Soon, she was making trades and befriending other players. But as time passed, things took a darker turn. Gwen would soon realize this wasn't merely a game. There would be times when she had to kill or be killed herself… ------------------------------------------- Chapter 1 Raft Survival: Global Edition The sky above Gwen Swann was a clean, endless blue. No clouds. No contrails. Under her, the ocean went on forever, a dark mouth that did not blink. She sat on a raft barely 43 square feet in area. No land. No boats. No gulls. Just water and the slap of waves. The spray soaked her jeans and the fabric stuck cold to her legs, like the sea was claiming her piece by piece. Gwen stared ahead, her mind completely blank. She was pretty sure that five minutes ago, she'd been at the office, half-dead from overtime, staring at a spreadsheet and wondering if coffee counted as dinner. Gwen thought, 'Kidnapped? By who, exactly. 'I am a soft target with nothing to my name. What, someone hauled me out here to inherit my student loans and maxed-out Visa?' A translucent screen flickered into view at the corner of her vision, like a heads-up display from a game. Lines of text scrolled by. [Global Chat]: [Okay, no joke, where the hell are we?] [I was literally about to clutch a pentakill and now I'm in the ocean. This has to be a prank.] [Someone tell me I'm dreaming. Or knock me out. Either works.] [Is anyone else here actually real? I don't see a single person.] [I'm gonna throw up. I get seasick on this boat. This is not funny.] [Bro, calling this thing a boat is generous. My dog's crate is bigger.] [Seasick? Try having deep-sea phobia. I swear something huge just swam under my raft.] [Nana, if you're watching from heaven, please don't let me die like this!] Gwen exhaled quietly. 'Good. I am not alone. At least this nightmare has company.' The chat continued to dissolve into chaos, but before she could read more, another voice cut through everything. Cold. Flat. Inhuman. It didn't come from the screen. It came from inside her head. [Congratulations. You have entered the Ocean Survival Game. Player ID: 29,786,510. [All five billion players have successfully entered the game. The Grand Sea Route is now officially open. Please remember the following navigation rules. [From this point forward, your life will take place at sea. You may collect resources by salvaging floating debris, fishing, and exploring islands in order to upgrade your vessel and survive. [During the New Player Protection Period, players are prohibited from attacking one another. Violations will result in system penalties. [The New Player Protection Period lasts three days. During this time, overall difficulty is significantly reduced. Use this window wisely and gather supplies as quickly as possible. [You have one life. Please do not waste it. [After the protection period ends, the global event "Ocean Storm" will begin. [Warning: the storm will destroy all vessels with a Sturdiness Value below five. Upgrade your ship to ensure survival. [A Beginner Blind Box has been delivered to your vessel. Happy sailing.] Right on cue, something dropped from above. A small wooden box hit the raft with a dull thump and slid to a stop near Gwen's feet. A large question mark was painted on the lid. So this was the so-called Beginner Blind Box. Only then did she notice the rest of her starting equipment. A fishing rod lay near the edge of the raft, old enough to look like it had lived several past lives. Next to it sat an iron grappling hook, spotted with rust and tied to a fraying rope. The moment she focused on them, translucent stat panels popped up in front of her eyes. [Worn Fishing Rod] [Quality: Poor] [Description: Standard beginner item. Everyone gets one. Can be used for fishing.] [Worn Throwing Hook] [Quality: Poor] [Everyone gets one of these starter tools. Use it to snag whatever junk's floating by on the waves.] [Dilapidated Wooden Raft] [Sturdiness: 1 (May fall apart at any time.)] [Speed: 0 (It's a busted raft. Manage your expectations.)] [Storage Capacity: 0/10 slots] [Durability: 100/100] [Upgrade requirements: 20 Wood, 10 Cloth, 10 Seaweeds, 1 Iron Ore, 1 Dull Pearl.] [(Upgrade unavailable. Insufficient materials.)] After reading through the raft's stats, Gwen finally understood just how bad things were. Five billion people around the world had been dumped into this so-called survival game. Everyone started the same way. One useless raft. No food. No fresh water. And a three-day countdown. Technically, a person could survive about a week without food if they were careful. But the ocean storm coming in three days would wipe out this raft without even trying. A structural rating of one might as well be a death sentence. If she wanted to live, upgrading this floating pile of wood wasn't optional. It was everything. Gwen had never been the kind of person who wasted energy complaining about fate. When she realized something couldn't be changed, she made the only sensible choice. She adapted, and she did it fast. That was how the world worked. Survival of the fittest. The strong stayed standing, and everyone else got swept aside. She understood that rule instinctively. So while the global chat was still packed with people shouting, whining, and melting down in real time, Gwen was already moving, quietly collecting whatever she could get her hands on. She wrapped the rope of the throwing hook securely around her wrist and locked onto a wooden plank drifting about fifteen feet straight ahead. The metal hook sliced through the air with a sharp whistle. It grazed the edge of the plank and missed. The hook splashed into the water and vanished beneath the surface, swallowed whole by the sea. Gwen pulled the rope, reeling the hook back in. She had underestimated how fast the hook traveled, and she hadn't accounted for the way the current nudged floating debris forward. Lesson learned. On the second throw, she adjusted her timing and released. The hook landed squarely in the middle of the plank. Nailed it. She hauled it in and noticed a strip of bright green seaweed tangled around the bottom. [Item acquired: 1 Wood, 1 Seaweed] A buy-one-get-one deal. She wasn't complaining. Everything she collected was automatically transferred into the raft's storage. A notification popped up as the capacity updated to 2 out of 500. No breaks. Gwen's eyes were already on the next piece of debris. [Wood+1] [Cloth +1] [Seaweed +1] ***** Three hours later, Gwen barely had to think about it anymore. Her wrist felt sore, sure, but her accuracy was ridiculous. Anything she aimed at might as well have been glued to the hook. Misses were rare. She checked her inventory. Twenty three pieces of wood. Eleven cloth. Ten seaweed. That was enough to upgrade the raft. What she still needed was iron ore and that dull-looking pearl. And she had no clue where either of those came from. Out of curiosity, she glanced back at the global chat. The conversation had moved on. Everyone was now arguing about the newbie loot boxes. [Are you kidding me? Five pieces of wood. That's it?] [I got two bottles of water. Best day of my life. I was about to pass out.] [Five wood gang here.] [Same. Five wood.] [Same here.] [So the devs really went full gacha scam on us, huh?] [This is supposed to be a starter reward, not a slap in the face.] [Cry more. Check out what I pulled.] One message stood out immediately. Someone had posted a full item card. [Shark Tooth Dagger] [Quality: Common] [A dagger made from shark teeth. Sharp enough. Deals double damage to sharks.] 'Wait, weapons are in the loot boxes too?' Gwen thought, surprised. Gwen scrolled. Weapon pulls were rare. Most people got basic materials. Some luckier players scored food, fresh water, binoculars, or flint. One insanely lucky player claimed they had pulled one hundred dull pearls. Gwen's eyes narrowed. The raft upgrade required one pearl. She still had no idea how to get one, and it was obvious these were way more valuable than wood or cloth. The pearl guy wasted no time. [Selling extra pearls. One pearl for 200 wood, cloth, or seaweed.] [Two hundred wood for one pearl? Just mug us next time.] [I fished up a giant oyster with the starter rod. Cracked it open, pearl inside. If you want pearls, go fishing.] [Fishing my ass. I've been sitting here for an hour and nothing's biting.] [Same. Didn't catch a thing and almost fell in.] [Basic fishing tip. You need bait. I tore off a piece of bread from a loot box, tied it to the hook, instant fish.] [So what you're saying is I need food to get food?] [No bait means no fish. No fish means no food. This game is evil.] [Selling one piece of wheat bread, 150 grams, for 200 wood. First come, first served.] [Dude, that's even worse than the pearl guy.] [I would rather starve than trade my pride for bread.] [Trading newbie blind box for five pieces of wheat bread.] [People are selling blind boxes already?] [My luck sucks anyway. Five wood isn't doing me any favors.] Everyone was brand new, all stuck with the same problems. No food. No water. The moment someone had extras, prices went through the roof. Gwen felt the faint tug of hunger in her stomach after hours of work, but it was manageable. She wasn't desperate yet. Trading valuable resources for food now would just mean grinding for someone else's benefit. She picked up the blind box resting on the raft. Trading it for bread was probably the smart move. Still, Gwen hesitated. Compared to five pieces of wood, taking a shot at luck didn't seem like the worst idea in the world. Chapter 2 The Legendary Rod Gwen worked a thumb under the seal and muttered a quick prayer to the loot gods. 'Not lumber. Please not lumber. If it isn't a weapon, let it be food.' The box popped, and a long, slender rod shimmered into her hand. [Lucky Octo Fishing Rod] [Quality: Legendary] [Comes with a jelly octopus lure that gives off a strange scent and has ridiculous suction. Guarantees a bite with every cast and greatly increases your odds of pulling rare fish and rare items. [Fair warning: certain uncanny creatures are also drawn to it. Use with care. [Anglers never get skunked!] Gwen's eyes lit up. 'Talk about perfect timing. With a rod that comes with its own bait, I don't have to worry about finding any myself.' And it was legendary. Back home she had dabbled in those cheesy pay to win MMOs where numbers fly off mobs like confetti. Legendary sounded a whole lot sweeter than the common dagger people were flexing in global chat. Shame it was a fishing rod. She would have killed for something she could swing. Still, no sense getting greedy. Compared to the poor souls who drew five planks, this was an S tier start. She gave the rod a closer look. The build was miles ahead of the starter stick, with fancy scrollwork carved into the grip. A clear little octopus hung at the end of the line, glossy and wobbly like a gummy candy. She tapped it with a fingertip. The tiny octopus twitched, then latched on with all eight arms. Okay, that suction was no joke. She couldn't peel it off. Gwen muttered, "Easy there, buddy. Let go." She rapped it gently on the head with her other hand. The octopus seemed to realize it had the wrong target and unhooked itself, almost apologetic. Gwen faced the open water, set her stance, and sent the line out in a clean, pretty arc. Legendary or not, she fully expected a bite. That warning about uncanny creatures in the description went straight into the mental trash. 'When your stomach is filing complaints, you do not worry about sea spooks. If it is edible, it is eligible,' Gwen scoffed to herself. Two minutes had not even passed when the float snapped under and vanished. Her wrist dipped. The rod bowed into a tidy arc under the pull. Fish on. The fight was nothing. She hauled up in one smooth motion and slapped a small, silver bright fish onto the raft. Its tail drummed the boards like a snare. [You obtained: Jack Mackerel x1] [Auto dismantle? (System processing reduces yield.) ] She hit Yes. No tools, no way to deal with guts, and she was not about to chew the thing whole like a seal. [You obtained: Jack Mackerel Fillet x3] She weighed the slices in her palm. The fish had to be about a pound, and after the system took its cut, more than a third had evaporated. Highway robbery. Gwen clicked her tongue. Yeah, no. She decided once she had decent tools, she would clean her catch herself. No more letting the system skim her dinner. Her stomach chimed in again. She raised a piece of raw fillet and took a bite. The texture was soft and tender, almost creamy, with a faint sweetness that lingered after she swallowed. 'Fresh caught hits different,' Gwen thought, savoring the flavor. She polished off the fillets in a few quick bites. Maybe half full. The fish had been way too small. She wrapped her fingers tighter around the rod and cast again. 'With a rod that literally never come up empty, food is the least of my worries, right?' Not long after, the bobber dipped. Another bite. She reeled it in with barely any effort. The sun was sinking fast, the light thinning into dusk. Whatever was on the hook gleamed against the darkening water, and for a split second she thought she had struck it rich. Then she leaned closer. A starfish. [Glowing Starfish] [Inedible. Emits light at night. Can be used as an adorable bedside lamp.] Gwen stared at it, the corners of her mouth twitching. 'Awesome,' she thought. 'Real cute. Totally useless.' It didn't struggle or try to crawl away, so she dumped it off to the side of the raft. After that, things went completely sideways. She caught two more horse mackerel and one sea bream. Everything else was glowing starfish. Blue ones. Green ones. Pink ones. They stacked up until half the raft was covered, like they had organized a group outing and decided her hook was the place to be. Gwen squinted at the pile and sighed. 'Did I drop anchor in a starfish daycare or what?' The night sky was pitch black, no moon, no stars. The heap of glowing starfish became the only light around, colors weaving together and shifting constantly. Blue, green, pink, purple, all bleeding into each other. Her face, her hands, even the wooden planks under her boots were washed in that unreal glow. The light spilled out onto the surrounding sea, making it look like the raft was drifting through a magical field of stars. There was no sail, but the raft kept moving with the current. Maybe she really had drifted straight into their territory. That would explain a lot. She rubbed her sore wrist just as a familiar system chime sounded. [Heads up, players: It is now 11:00 p.m. Between 11:00 p.m. and 5:00 a.m., the chance of catching eerie creatures and special items is doubled. We recommend getting proper rest. Staying up late is bad for your health.] Three fish. All small. That was the entire haul. Not great. She needed enough to eat tomorrow, and she had hoped to trade extra fish for fresh water with other players. The system's cheerful warning made her uneasy. Gwen exhaled slowly. 'One last cast,' she told herself. 'If it's another glow stick with legs, I'm done for the night.' She cast again. A few minutes passed, then her rod dipped hard. This time the weight nearly yanked it from her hands. Now that was more like it. Sixty pounds at least. Probably more. She braced her feet and started reeling, a grin breaking through. Finally. Anything but another starfish. Gwen had always been strong. As a kid she dominated both sprints and distance runs. In college she could hoist a full water jug with one hand, no problem. When she rolled up her sleeves, muscle lines stood out clear as day. She gave the line a sharp tug and frowned. Whatever she had hooked was not fighting back. No thrashing. No pull. Just dead weight. "Don't tell me I snagged a rock,' she thought. 'Maybe coral.' She reeled it in steadily and dragged it up alongside the raft. Then she grabbed it with both hands and hauled it aboard. It turned out to be a wine barrel, easily half as tall as she was. Gwen didn't open it right away. She leaned in and knocked on the lid, listening. Nothing moved. Satisfied, she slid a wooden plank into the seam and pried. The lid popped loose, and a wave of stale, rotten air rushed out. Gwen pinched her nose and leaned over to look inside. Curled within the barrel was a complete human skeleton. The skull wore a wide-brimmed pirate tricorn, complete with an eyepatch. The left hand still clutched a rusted revolver. On the right hand, something caught the light, flashing brightly on a finger bone. It was a ring. Chapter 3 The Legacy Of A Special Profession Out on the open ocean in the middle of the night, the moon threw a cold wash of light into the barrel and turned those bones paper white. The empty sockets stared at Gwen. Creepy, sure, if one scared easy. Gwen didn't. She lifted an eyebrow, more bored than bothered. 'Please,' she thought, 'it's a skeleton. Back when it was breathing, it couldn't have gone one round with me. Now that it's dead, I'm not losing a wink of sleep.' She reached in and fished out the soaked pirate hat. [Captain Malcolm's Pirate Hat] [Quality: uncommon (Damaged, repairable)] [A swaggering captain's hat that radiates command presence. While worn, crewwide morale +1 when you issue orders.] Not bad. Better tier than that shark-tooth dagger folks had been flexing in global chat. She checked the pistol, then the ring. [Rusted Revolver] [Quality: Uncommon (Damaged, repairable)] [Just your average revolver, but after soaking in seawater for years, the barrel's rusted and the aim's not what it used to be.] The revolver was the same tier as the hat, both out of commission until she fixed them. Her eyes slid to the ring, and that was it. Hooked. [Ring of the Undead] [Quality: Legendary] [Wearing this triggers the Ghost Pirate class inheritance. Cannot be removed.] [Curse: Upon death you will become a skeleton; your soul will not find rest.] [Includes 1,000-slot storage.] (Item rarity, low to high: Poor - Common - Uncommon - Rare - Epic- Unique - Legendary) Gwen held her breath, grinning despite herself. Another Legendary. She had no clue what a Ghost Pirate did, but Legendary meant heavy hitters. Plus a thousand storage slots. Her raft had, what, ten? The curse? Please. In a survival game this rough, most players were lucky to make it a few days. To her, worrying about the afterlife felt like putting a roof on a house one hadn't framed yet. She slid the ring on without hesitation. [You have obtained a special class: Ghost Pirate.] [You have acquired the class skills Spectral Footwork and Bone Reanimation.] [Spectral Footwork: Your movement becomes spectral; no one can pin you down. Blink to any point within 33 feet. Costs 10 magic points. Cooldown: 30 minutes.] [Bone Reanimation: Stir bones back to motion as your loyal minion. Costs 100 mana. (Requires bones to be at least 80% intact.)] [Congratulations! You are the first player on the server to obtain a special class. Reward: System Blind Box x1. It will be airdropped to your raft shortly.] A wooden crate stamped with question marks thumped onto the raft out of thin air. Gwen barely looked at it. She was too busy savoring the jackpot. Spectral Footwork was the perfect panic button, pure blink-and-you-missed-it. Bone Reanimation sounded downright busted in the best way. 'Raise bones? Seriously? So if I grab enough bones, do I get to field my own skeleton army?' The idea hit her like a wave, ridiculous and thrilling in equal measure. Her eyes slid to the bones stuffed in the wine barrel. 'Look at that. A starter kit, already assembled.' She tried Bone Reanimation. [Skill activation failed. Insufficient magic points.] 'Magic points?' She blinked. Back in college, she had mainlined power-fantasy web serials, so the term rang a bell. She flicked through the system overlay until she found a tucked-away character sheet. [ID: Player #29786510] [Title: None] [Class: Ghost Pirate, Tier 1 (upgrade requires reviving 10 skeletons, progress 0/10)] [Constitution: 5 (affects disease resistance, toughness, and HP, 1 point = 10 HP)] [Strength: 7 (affects how much weight you can lift.)] [Agility: 6 (affects speed and flexibility.)] [Intelligence: 8 (affects mana capacity and mana recovery, 1 point = 10 magic points.)] [Luck: Hidden (affects treasure finds and the odds of good breaks.)] [Charisma: Hidden (affects NPC attitudes toward you.)] [HP: 50] [Magic Points: 80] [Skills: Spectral Footwork, Bone Reanimation.] That cleared it up. Magic points scaled off Intelligence. She was going to need to bump INT to at least ten. She checked the pirate hat and the revolver next. The hat needed a Tailor class and five pieces of cloth to repair. The revolver wanted a Blacksmith class, two iron ore, and, naturally, bullets. Which meant both items were benched for now. She packed every resource into the Ring of the Undead. Her overloaded raft suddenly had room to breathe. The barrel and the skeleton were still hogging space, so she tried to stash those too. The next second, a black eyepatch tumbled out and landed by her foot. She picked it up, surprised. The skull's eyepatch wasn't just a prop. It was gear, and she had almost missed it. [Captain Malcolm's Eyepatch] [Quality: Unique (Upgradable)] [Effect: Lets the wearer read basic player info. A reliable companion for wholesome activities like piracy, robbery, and doing crimes with style. Also looks cool. A pirate without an eyepatch is just a guy in a hat.] That was way too useful to pass up. She slipped it on. Her left eye went dark, her world narrowed, and the lack of depth felt weird. Then she spotted a Hide Appearance toggle in the UI, tapped it, and the eyepatch vanished while her vision snapped back to normal. 'Nice quality-of-life touch,' she thought. Otherwise she might as well tattoo "I'm a pirate" on her forehead. A Lucky Octo Fishing Rod, the Ring of the Undead, and now an eyepatch like a cheat code. The game had been live for a single day and she already had three pieces of Unique-grade gear or better. "Unique" meant one of one across the entire server. As in, only hers. "Luck" was listed as hidden, sure, but she was pretty confident her number there wasn't small. Riding the hot streak, she cracked open the system's loot box. [1 Monocular Telescope, 2 Sun-Protective Sports Outfits, 1 Fisherman's Happy Folding Kit, 1 Mysterious Fruit, 10 Global Chat Megaphones, 10 Coconuts, 10 Straws] Hard to say if this haul was statistically blessed without a leaderboard, but the stuff itself was solid. The telescope and sunproof clothing were gold on open water. Better yet, she had drinkable liquid. Ten coconuts would keep her hydrated for three or four days. The Fisherman's Happy Folding Kit was a sun umbrella, a folding chair, a little folding table, a fish basket, and a landing net. Her raft was about forty square feet, just big enough to pop open the chair and table. Which meant tonight she didn't have to sleep on bare planks. That felt like a win. Each player got ten messages a day on the global chat. Anything beyond that needed a megaphone item. Gwen wasn't big on global chatter, so those megaphones were the least useful thing in the pile. Which left one last item staring up at her. The mysterious fruit. Chapter 4 Glowing Starfish Sells Out The Mysterious Fruit was about the size of an apple, but that was where the familiarity ended. The whole thing was an unnatural shade of blue, with strange spiral patterns etched across the skin. It looked less like food and more like something pulled straight out of a cartoon fantasy series. Blue was not a hunger-friendly color. Just holding it made Gwen doubt her life choices. Still, this had come from a system blind box. She was sure the game was not going to hand her a reward and quietly kill her with it. Probably. She closed her eyes, steeled herself, and took a bite. 'Huh. It is actually… fine,' she thought. A little like a blueberry and an apple had teamed up and decided to be refreshing. The moment she swallowed, a crisp notification chimed in her head. [You have consumed a Mysterious Fruit. Intelligence +1.] Gwen's eyes snapped open. 'Seriously? Right when I needed it?' She had been worrying five minutes ago about how to raise her Intelligence stat, and now the game just dropped the answer into her lap. Or rather, into her mouth. Of course, she knew better than to get used to it. This fruit had come from a system blind box she earned by hitting first place server-wide. That kind of luck did not exactly grow on trees. By the time she finished marveling at it, the clock was creeping toward midnight. Before calling it a night, Gwen casually opened the global chat. And immediately regretted it. [It's pitch black out here. Someone help. I hate tight spaces and the ocean is freaking me out!] [Trading fresh water for anything that gives light.] [One flint for one hundred wood. Or food and water. I'm flexible.] [A hundred wood? You out of your mind?] [Pulled a wooden crate while salvaging. Got a brazier blueprint. I can craft braziers for people. Materials are five charcoal, ten wood. Crafting fee is one iron ore.] [Iron ore is harder to find than food. If I had ore, I would upgrade my raft. Anyone got extra?] Gwen blinked. 'Flint and braziers are already this hot?' She glanced at the folding table beside her raft. The glowing starfish sat there quietly, glowing with a soft blue light, steady and warm like a night lamp. If people were desperate for light, this little thing could easily put a brazier to shame. Another message exploded into the chat. [Do not fish at night. I hooked a sea snake and it bit me. I'm poisoned and my HP is dropping nonstop. I'm almost dead. Does anyone have an antidote potion? I'll trade everything I own!] [Antidotes are insanely rare. No one is giving that up.] [Yeah, that stuff saves your life. No amount of resources is worth it.] The mockery came fast, piling on without mercy. Then one message cut through the noise. Wind in the Night: [I have one. I don't need it right now. I'll trade it to you. Saving a life matters.] Gwen froze for a second. 'Wow. People like that still exist?' [Oh my god, thank you. You're a saint. I owe you big time, seriously!] The gratitude barely finished before the floodgates opened. [Hey, boss, got any food? Haven't eaten all day, I'm dying here.] [Bro, I'm completely out of fresh water. My throat feels like sandpaper. Can you spare a little? Half a bottle even?] [Wait, do you have another antidote? I got bit too. I'm dizzy, can't see straight. I think I'm done for.] The chat went absolutely feral, messages flying so fast they blurred together. Gwen sighed and shook her head. 'Kindness itself is not a mistake. But in a survival game where everyone is one bad decision away from death, being too kind was just another way to paint a target on your back.' A moment later, Wind in the Night replied again: [Sorry, guys. I don't have much. I only found that one antidote in a salvage crate.] ***** Meanwhile, thousands of miles away on the open ocean, a young woman sat on a wooden raft, scrolling through the chat feed with a scowl. 'Unbelievable,' she thought. 'How are there this many shameless people out here? What, is everybody a beggar now?' She flicked the screen again, irritation simmering. 'And don't get me started on that guy who promised me his entire life savings for an antidote. 'I sent it over fair and square. He popped into public chat, dropped a couple half-hearted 'thanks,' and then poof, gone. Straight-up ghosted me. Didn't even toss me a single scrap of wood.' Gwen: [Glowing starfish. Trade for one pound of food or one pint of fresh water, or any practical tools or gear. Multiple colors. First come, first served.] She attached a live photo. On her folding table sat a starfish pulsing a soft electric blue, brighter than a nightlight, throwing a dreamy glow across the black water. [A starfish that glows? That's so beautiful!] [I want one.] [Way better deal than flint. Gimme two.] [Dude, who's speed-clicking these? They're gone already?] The chat spun off into starfish mania, and Ellen Hammond finally let herself breathe. Before this whole mess, she'd been a doctor in training, the kind who runs toward the crash cart on instinct. Helping people was hardwired. But staring at the private messages piling up—each more entitled than the last—she felt it in her bones: the world had shifted. Different rules now. Good thing she'd walked back her earlier claim and said the antidote was a lucky find. If people figured out she could make the stuff, the headache would be a hundred times worse. Riding the wave of attention, Gwen listed the glowing starfish on the trading market and threw another ping into public chat so nobody would miss it. Her handle had been a string of numbers, but when the system asked if she wanted to rename, she swapped it to her real first name. Before this, she had been a regular college kid working her way through med training, no beef with anyone, and whenever she played games she used her actual name because coming up with aliases felt like homework. People hawking flint and brazier in public had priced them into the stratosphere. Most players didn't have that much wood or food on hand, and only a couple had sold. Gwen still had more than thirty glowing starfish, so she marked them to move. If she cleared them out, she could always fish up more tomorrow. She did not expect a feeding frenzy. In under a minute, every last one was gone. Thirty-five glowing starfish netted her fourteen small wheat rolls, two baskets of blueberries, one stick of butter, a can of sweet corn, a small bag of salt, and a dozen-plus 16.9-ounce bottles of water. For now, food and fresh water were not her immediate problems. She was about to close the system panel and crash when a private message popped. Right Side of the Law: [Got any extra glowing starfish? I can trade a weapon.] [Iron Short Dagger] [Quality: common] [A plain little dagger. Good enough for self defense.] Gwen's eyes brightened. The revolver she'd found earlier was a no-go for now, but this dagger would actually see use. Handy for protection, handy for spearing a fish, and no more paying a system cut just to get things done. She fired back fast: [I've got one last starfish. I can trade it to you.] She had a high tolerance for the dark, with or without a nightlight. The trade came through almost instantly. Ding. Dagger acquired. Right Side of the Law was a bit put off. [Why is it blue? I wanted pink.] Gwen looked at the very macho ID, paused, then typed: [I'll fish again tomorrow. If I snag a pink one, I'll square you away with it.] Two glowing starfish for a weapon like this was still a win in her ledger. [Cool,] he replied, and went quiet. She knew if he could casually toss a dagger like that into a trade, he probably had something better on deck. So she was not the only lucky one out here. Gwen flattened her folding chair and stretched out. The night had a chill, so she pulled both sets of sweats from her starter rewards over herself like blankets. She had spent all day hauling salvage and fishing. Her body could take it—only her arms felt heavy—but the mental load was the real drain. One second one was in their life, the next they were in a survival game on a raft with nothing but horizon, no food, no water, and a requirement to improvise or die. Someone fragile, or in a rough headspace, might have gone overboard already. Not Gwen. Even if she were the last person breathing, she was not checking out. She tugged the sweats up to her chin and let her thoughts unspool, ready to drift. That was when the sound hit—low, weird, and wrong, like an electric hum sawing at the edges of the night. Gwen's eyes snapped open. Chapter 5 The First Island The sea was rougher than it had been all day. Gwen pushed herself up and tried to trace the sound. In the washed-out moonlight, a shadow the size of a battleship slid beneath the raft, slow and silent. The swell it kicked up smacked her 43-square-feet platform twice, hard enough to rattle her teeth. Pressure crept in from every direction, something heavy and invisible. Her knee went soft and she nearly toppled. From below came a long, low call, a bass note that felt like it rose from the spine of the ocean. Whale, she thought for a second. Then no. People weren't supposed to hear whale song like that, not raw and close. Set against that thing, her raft was a leaf hitting a pond, flimsy and not worth a second look. Maybe the creature decided the bite wasn't worth the effort, or maybe the newbie-protection rules boxed it in. It lingered a while under the surface, then drifted off like it had all the time in the world. Now she got why everyone was scrambling for anything that made light. In the dark, fear didn't just grow, it multiplied. She spent the night curled in the folding chair. At dawn the sun hauled itself up off the horizon and stabbed her awake. She opened her eyes to a blinding coin hung over endless water. The sea lay flat and windless, glittering like hammered glass. It was calm enough to make last night feel fake. But she trusted her eyes. The water here looked clear, sure, but the blue ran close to black. That meant depth, the kind one measured in chills. She ate a simple breakfast: wheat bread with butter, a few blueberries, and the leftover sashimi from yesterday. That was when she noticed the trick. Inside the Ring of the Undead, time was frozen. Food came out as fresh as it went in. The raft's storage, though, played by normal rules, which meant rot. Lucky she had only tossed two scraps of fish in there. The valuable stuff stayed on her person. She pulled a fishing rod from the ring and set a line while the morning was still kind. With luck she might snag a pearl oyster and upgrade the raft. Her rod had a never-get-skunked buff built in. Other players weren't so lucky, and their bite rates were a joke. Even without pearls, any fish she hauled up could be traded later. After what she saw last night, an upgrade was not optional. Once newbie protection ended, if that thing came back, a raft with durability scraping zero might as well come with a note that said: jump first. While she watched the bobber, she cracked open public chat. Morning or not, it was already blowing up. [Server-wide bounty on a player named Sweltering Nights. He jacked my sister's boat and got her killed. You drop him, I pay five days of food and fresh water, plus one iron ore!] [You gotta be kidding me. System said no PvP during newbie protection. How's anyone pulling a robbery?] [For real. I rolled up on some rando earlier, a transparent shield popped the second I got close. No boarding, period.] [His class is Pirate. He isn't bound by the system's penalties. How is Pirate even a class? Heads up, you see one, do not get soft. It's you or him.] Gwen's stomach dipped. 'So there are other players who've rolled Pirate too?' she thought. Then she breathed and reminded herself she was Ghost Pirate, not the same thing. A legendary ring didn't exactly grow on trees. [Getting drafted into this survival mess is already bad. Now we've got pirates shanking our own? Killing over a handful of supplies, for real?] [Bet they're thugs IRL. If he can straight-up kill like that, dude's probably already done time. Put him down and I won't lose sleep.] [Bro, if I spot him, I'll get justice for your sister. Even if I can't win, I'll drop you the coords.] [Thanks, everyone.] The channel slid into cursing and vows, open season on Pirates. Gwen read in silence. For now, Pirate meant public enemy. Until she had the muscle to back it up, she figured it was smarter not to advertise that she was the Ghost Pirate. No need to hand anyone a reason to dogpile her. Just then, the rod dipped hard and yanked her attention back. She stood, reeled in, and popped the bait out of the water. Another glowing starfish spun on the line, glowing a bright toxic green. She clicked her tongue. 'Wrong color, universe. I need pink, not green.' The Right Side of the Law wanted pink one. She flicked the starfish into her ring for storage. When she looked up, a pinprick of black sat on the far line of the sea, sharp against the moving blue. She pulled out her monocular and took a long look. "An island," she breathed. "No way." Excitement sparked in her chest. This was the first island she had seen, period. H Her raft did not even have a sail. Wherever it drifted, it drifted on the whim of the waves. No one in global chat had bragged about setting foot on an island either. She tamped the rush down, folded her beach chair and sun umbrella, and cleared her view. Through the lens, the island lined up neatly with her drift path. Half an hour later, the raft bobbed within 60 feet of shore. Gwen tied her grappling rope around her waist, clipped the other end tight to the storage chest on the raft, and tugged hard to check it. The chest was bolted straight into the planks. Rock solid. She took a breath and dove. She was no pro, but she could dog paddle and freestyle well enough. Kicking hard, she hauled the raft along. With seawater doing most of the lifting, a 43‑square‑feet raft felt like almost nothing. It was not nearly as tiring as it looked. There was no anchor onboard, and she did not trust the swell. She dragged the raft all the way onto the beach before letting go. A system prompt flickered in her view. [You have discovered an unclaimed island. Explore the island. Locate the Heart of the Island to claim it as your territory.] [Landing limit: 48 hours. If you overstay, you will be removed from the island.] The second message instantly shattered Gwen's little scheme. There went the plan to camp here if it proved safe. An island sounded better than bobbing on open water, but a timer made sense. It was a survival game. If everyone could just squat on an island forever, nobody would risk the sea. Still. The Heart of the Isand. Claim the whole thing. That put a spark in her head. She unhitched the rope from her waist and tied it around a palm trunk to keep the raft from getting snatched by the tide. Then she headed inland, eyes up, taking everything in. The island was not big. Maybe over a square mile, tops. The beach fringe was stacked with palm trees heavy with coconuts. Deeper in, palms gave way to dense shrubs hung with clusters of orange‑yellow fruit, little lanterns glowing in the green. They looked familiar. She picked one, brought it to her nose, and smiled. Sea buckthorn. She knew it from her milkshake shop days. The juice was sweet and tart, perfect when people were thirsty and worn out, easy on the stomach too. She did not start picking. First job was making sure the place would not try to kill her. Suddenly, a soft rustle brushed her ear. Something small and dark shot past her feet. Gwen glanced down and moved on instinct. She lunged, caught it clean, and lifted the squirming thing before it could disappear. Chapter 6 Stickup [You have captured a plump red-shelled coconut crab.] [Red-Shelled Coconut Crab: Tender, edible meat. Shell usable for crafting.] For once, the system actually bothered to dress things up. Gwen weighed the crab in her hand. It was pretty hefty, easily seven or eight pounds. Gwen weighed the crab in her hand. 'Heavy. A solid eight, maybe nine pounds,' she figured. 'Not bad at all.' She'd never eaten coconut crab before. Never had the chance, really. Funny how getting dumped into a survival game was what finally earned her a lifetime seafood buffet. Coconut crabs were slow, clumsy things. Ten minutes later, she had caught five more without breaking a sweat and dumped them neatly into her storage ring. She remembered the documentaries. Coconut crabs usually came out at night, their shells a dull blue-green meant to disappear into shadows. These, though, were bright red, like they had already been boiled. Another reminder that whatever world this was, it played by its own rules. The island itself was small. Gwen pushed through a final wall of brush and emerged near its center. The jungle thinned abruptly, opening into a wide stretch of sand that felt almost desert-like. Something gleamed. Chunks of raw ore rose straight out of the sand, scattered like oversized weeds. Sunlight bounced off the metal, sharp and unmistakable. Gwen froze. 'Iron! And not just a little.' Iron ore was the real bottleneck in the game. One needed it for raft upgrades, and players practically fought over scraps. Most of what existed came from rare loot chests pulled up from the ocean. And here it was, sitting in plain sight on a forgettable little island. 'Jackpot,' Gwen thought, her heart pounding with excitement. Then she spotted the chest. It was nestled among the iron deposits sat a bronze-bound coffer. The copper lock was mottled with rust and barely holding together, tilting just enough to look inviting. Like it was calling out to be opened. Her excitement cooled instead of spiking. 'A chest sitting dead center in an iron field? That is weird. Too convenient,' she mused. 'Could this be a trap?' She started toward it anyway. Behind her, sand shifted softly. Not the lazy scrape of a coconut crab. Something lighter. Intentional. Without turning her head, Gwen flicked her eyes sideways. Near a coconut tree behind her, a shadow clung to the trunk. It was subtle, just a shade darker than it should have been, but it did not belong there. She clocked it instantly. Behind that tree, the player known as Sweltering Nights tightened his grip on a slim knife. 'Seriously? I barely moved my foot. Is she some kind of paranoid freak, or just stupidly sharp?' he thought. He watched her posture. No sudden movements. No weapons drawn. She kept strolling toward the chest like nothing had happened. He exhaled, slow and relieved. 'Guess I was overthinking it,' he thought. 'Anyone with a pulse would lose their mind over a chest that size. Nobody would pay attention to a little background noise.' Gwen's back was wide open now. Greed flickered across his eyes. 'Let her open it first. Once she pops that chest, I'm cashing in again today.' Gwen stopped in front of the chest and leaned closer, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "Just sitting out here like this…" she muttered. "Feels like it belongs to someone already. Yeah, no. Probably shouldn't mess with other people's stuff." 'Wait. What?' Sweltering Nights nearly choked. 'Did she seriously just say that? 'Who does that? Who sees a treasure chest and decides to walk away? Was she bugged? Glitched? Or just plain nuts?' He couldn't hold it in. He sprang from behind a tree, blade catching the light as he aimed the tip right at her throat. "Robbery! Hand it over!" he barked. Gwen flinched for show, but her gaze slipped over the ragged-looking guy in front of her. In her left eye, a neat little panel blinked to life. [Player ID: Sweltering Nights] [Class: Pirate] [Sin Points: 30] [Bounty: 100 Shell Tokens] [Upgrade Captain Malcolm's Eyepatch to reveal more hidden info.] Sweltering Nights. She knew that tag. He was the pirate everyone tore into on global chat this morning. 'What are the odds,' she thought. "Dump your supplies," he said, licking salt-dry lips, "and maybe I let you walk." He was already counting his winnings. An empty island and a soft target delivered to him. He was already counting his winnings. An empty island and a soft target delivered to him. Ever since he robbed his first player, he'd learned how sweet the pirate life ran. Folks combed the sea for days for scraps, but one good blade got him more in a minute. His eyes dragged over Gwen's face. Way prettier than the last one he hit. 'If she plays nice and coughs up her haul, maybe I'll tie her up and take her back to the boat for a little entertainment,' he thought. The second that dirty thought formed, Gwen vanished. One heartbeat she was there. The next, the back of his neck turned to ice. Gwen stood behind him with a rough iron dagger snug against his throat. The whole scene flipped in a blink. "Now this is a robbery," Gwen said, cool as a tide pool. "H-How..." Sweltering Nights stared, eyes going wide. 'What the hell is she, a mage? How did she pull that off? Disappear here, pop up there, no normal person can do that,' he thought, his mind spinning. 'Wait, she has to have some special class, some skill firing at the right moment. 'Damn it, I let my guard down.' "Dump your supplies," Gwen said flatly, her face giving away nothing at all. "Do that, and I'll make sure you die quick. No pain." He froze. 'Wasn't that my line just a second ago? Only she's colder than me, and she isn't even pretending I get to walk out of here.' Sweltering Nights gritted his teeth. "I screwed up, alright? My bad. I'll give you all my supplies, every bit. Just let me go, yeah? Only pirates can loot a player's ship. If you kill me, you get nothing." He wasn't bluffing. The system's newbie protection covered ships, not two people standing on a beach. If they were on board, Gwen couldn't have touched him. Before he came ashore, he left the good stuff on his raft, just in case. If she killed him now, she walked away empty-handed. Gwen didn't answer. She drove her knee straight into his spine. He face-planted, mouth full of sand, hacking and gagging. For someone so slim, she hit like a truck. One knee and his stomach lurched hard enough to bring up lunch. Pinned and dazed, he felt her knife saw through his jacket. She yanked it off him in a single pull. For a split second he panicked. 'Did I seriously just run and face-first into a man-eater? Would've been nice to get a heads-up. 'If it keeps me breathing, I could, you know, make a little personal sacrifice.' Nope. Not even close. Gwen moved fast, ripping strips from his clothes and cinching his wrists and ankles tight. Her grappling line was already tied to the raft, so fabric was the only rope on hand. She wasn't about to slice up her own gear. His would do. "Crawl over there. Open the chest," Gwen said. -------------------------------------------------- There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)
Full Map Open, No Invisible Walls 🗺️
🔥The #Hillfoots annual touch tournament is Saturday, May 16th!🔥 Join us for rugby fun & delicious food followed by the legendary Hillfoots Shorts ‘n’ Shades disco with free entry for all participants in the tournament! 🪩 💃🏻 🕺🏽 Scots Recovery From Childhood Abuse is the charity we are supporting again this year, so please get your teams assembled and give us a shout to register and donate to this deserving cause. ❤️🐏🦊 The rules are simple: 🏉 10 per team, with at least 1 person of the opposite sex. Games of 6 a side!!! 💰 Only £15 per person donation required which gets you into the tournament as well as admission into the legendary Shorts ‘n’ Shades disco at night! 🕶️ Come equipped with Shorts ‘n’ Shades and your best dance moves for the party in the clubhouse in the evening! 🩳 Bonuses: 🦄 Themed outfits (and names) per team, look funky fresh to stand out from the crowds! 🏖️ Bring summer ready equipment for the day, we’re keeping our fingers crossed the sun comes out to play too! For more info and to register your team please contact Gav: gspowage@hotmail.com #together🏉 SRFCA Hillfoots Rugby Football Club Hillfoots Vixens Forth Valley Vikings RL Meg's cakes Happiness is Egg Shaped ArkanScot Street Eats @followers
🎁 Brand new mmo officially release! 😍 Enjoy more intense battlegrounds 💎 Pack code: 🎁VIP777 🎁VIP888 🎁VIP999
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Full Map Open, No Invisible Walls 🗺️
Full Map Open, No Invisible Walls 🗺️
Full Map Open, No Invisible Walls 🗺️
Full Map Open, No Invisible Walls 🗺️
Full Map Open, No Invisible Walls 🗺️
Full Map Open, No Invisible Walls 🗺️
Full Map Open, No Invisible Walls 🗺️
Full Map Open, No Invisible Walls 🗺️