Re: Apocalypse Game
chapter-79

As the warm hues of twilight basked the landscape, a sudden notification jolted the players from their tasks.

[You Received Status: Hunger Level One]

[Stamina Regeneration -10%]

This prompt signaled everyone to gather at a tent pitched adjacent to the old farmhouse. There, an array of makeshift stoves and cooking pots awaited, manned by the capable Mexicans. Each player was handed a warm meal concocted from canned food. It was simple, perhaps even uninspiring, but it staved off the hunger, and in this game, that's all that mattered.

Amid this atmosphere, Luis, with his brow furrowed, made his way to Alan. His eyes, usually so full of cheer, now held a shadow of worry. "Señor," he began, choosing his words with care, "The stocks are depleting. We've used all the canned food. What do we serve these folks tomorrow?"

Alan looked at him, his eyes betraying no surprise. He had foreseen this situation. All the food cans salvaged from their last round had been consumed, a necessity when feeding a group of 70. "Walk with me," Alan motioned, leading Luis to a secluded corner.

In the distance, by the shed, Merle and his band of rednecks were conversing. Their silhouettes, barely visible in the fading light, seemed to be guarding a stash. Alan and Luis approached them, and as they neared, the contents of the stash became evident.

"Look at this," Merle scoffed, pointing at their day's catch.

"If it weren't for us, these so-called players would be starvin, They can't catch a damn thing!"

[Rabbits x 10]

[Boar x2]

[Deer x1]

Luis, always quick with numbers, mentally calculated the portions. "A rabbit can feed three, a boar thirty, and a deer about seventy. That's 160 servings in total. But it'll only suffice for breakfast and lunch, leaving us short for dinner."

Alan, with his characteristic calm, met Luis's concerned gaze, "They'll improve, Luis. Tomorrow, we'll have more."

The majority of these players were ill-equipped to fend for themselves in the game's rugged setting. Their inexperience and lack of vital attributes made hunting a daunting task.

Left to their devices, they would likely scrounge for scarce wild fruits or dare to venture into town for supplies, both fraught with their own dangers. In truth, they heavily relied on the expertise and protection of the more organized groups, like the military or the ominous organizations like the Blood Patriot.

This conundrum emphasized the perilous nature of the game's second round: to master the untamed wild or to hone combat skills. Regrettably, these players possessed neither of these competencies.

As for the group of rednecks, despite their bragging rights and outdoorsy demeanor, would have struggled to amass such a substantial hunting yield on their own. Their success was, in large part, thanks to Alan's invaluable knowledge of the region, guided them to areas abundant with game.

Post dinner, the players scuttled about, making sleeping arrangements. Some were fortunate to have procured in-game

[Bed Roll]

[Type: Other]

[Rarity: Common]

[Attributes: None]

[Effects: 20% less time needed for daily sleep]

[Able to Bring Outside the Game: Yes]

[Remarks: A bed suitable for a lone sleeper; not designed for multiple occupants or intimate activities.]

Others, less fortunate, had to make do with the cold, hard surface of the farmhouse floor.

As the night deepened, a handful of players approached Alan. Their eyes, driven by ambition, sought permission for a night raid on the occupied town. But Alan, denied their plea. "Now's not the time," he cautioned. "Rest tonight. Tomorrow, we have a full day ahead."

While the rest of the players sank into the realms of sleep, Alan's figure silently slipped out into the shadows. His stealthy departure did not go unnoticed. The vigilant eyes of the Blood Patriot guards narrowed as they observed Alan's every movement, whispering among themselves, trying to guess his intentions.

The guards' surprise was palpable when Alan made his way towards a plot of the farm, pulling out a sturdy [Rake] he had procured earlier. They watched in silent bemusement as Alan started tilling the soil, meticulously turning over each section of earth. One of the guards couldn't hold back a chuckle, "What the hell? He's farming! What a weirdo"

Alan's extraordinary stamina allowed him to work the plot tirelessly. Hours passed, and by the time the first streaks of dawn began to paint the sky, he had a substantial section of land ready for planting.

Then, from his inventory, he retrieved five bags labeled [Potato seeds]. These weren't the usual size; they were smaller, intended for propagation.

[Name: Seed potato]

[Type: Other]

[Rarity: Common]

[Attributes: None]

[Effects: 100% faster growth rate, 100% increased yield]

[Able to Bring Outside the Game: Yes]

[Remarks: Potatoe is a vegetable, just not green]

Each bag contained ten seed potatoes. With careful calculation, Alan spaced them approximately 15 cm apart. The 10x10 meter plot seemed ample for this number. After setting the potatoes into their new home, Alan faced another task: watering them. Thrice he trudged to and fro between the farm plot and a nearby stream, ensuring the freshly planted seeds received enough moisture to kickstart their growth.

By the time Alan was done, the horizon had begun to glow with the golden hues of morning. However, the physical strain and lack of sleep didn't come without consequences. A message flashed before his eyes:

[You Received Status: Sleep Deprivation Level One]

[Stamina Regeneration -20%]

The notification signified the game's realism and Alan's dedication. But with his enhanced stamina, Alan was certain he could push through the fatigue for another day.

Vicky, with her sharp eyes and intuitive nature, immediately caught onto Alan's weariness. "Did you not rest at all?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Before Alan could respond, Rose interjected, "He was working the fields throughout the night." Apparently, the girl had seen him, or might even been observing all night.

Without acknowledging the shared concerns, Alan clapped his hands, drawing attention to himself. "Alright, everyone, gather around for breakfast!" He announced, diverting the topic.

Once the group was settled, Alan began laying out the day's plans, "Today's tasks remain the same as yesterday's. But this time, we go all out. I need the fortification to be finished faster, so carry more rocks!" He then turned to the other group and added "For you hunters, you need to run faster and catch more! or we have nothing to eat tonight!"

Alan's words weren't met with the same enthusiasm as before. It was evident that fatigue and frustration were settling in among the group. Murmurs began to rise, some louder than others, expressing their growing dissatisfaction.

"This is just exploitation," one player commented with a sneer.

"Why aren't we doing missions? We need to earn points!" Another exclaimed, flustered.

A player in the back, looking rather anxious, piped up, "We better comply. or else the Blood Patriots will not take us back!"

But another retorted, defiance clear in his voice, "Still, If we don't get any points, we can't pay our daily, as simple as that!!"

The grumbling continued, setting a tense mood for the morning. Alan, maintaining his composure, simply watched them. Despite the constant pressure and the doubts expressed by his group, maintained his resolute stance.

The low-agility group went towards the woods and the low-strength group continued with their rock-carrying activities. Amongst them, the crafters seemed to be the only truly content group, engrossed in their work, collaborating with Alan to produce valuable items.

By the time lunch approached, there was still an air of restlessness among the group. Murmurs and glares seemed to follow Alan wherever he went.

Come dinner, Merle, as the group's lead hunter, approached Alan with an update, a hint of frustration evident in his voice.

"We've got 16 rabbits and 4 boars today. This isn't much of an improvement from yesterday, Are you certain about pushing them like this?"

Alan, however, maintained his composure. With a calm and collected demeanor, he responded, "Have you not noticed the change in the atmosphere tonight?"

The Crimson gunner looked around, taking in the scene before him. To his astonishment, the environment had transformed. Gone were the disgruntled faces and hunched shoulders. Instead, the space was alive with animated conversations full of excitement.

Vicky, catching on to the change, echoed Merle's sentiments. "What exactly did happened today?!"

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