Arya knew the potion she had just made was terrible—but it didn't deserve such harsh criticism.
"Re-smelt it," the small screen advised.
Could it be that the 'master' who created this potion had crawled out of the furnace herself? Maybe the dosage was too high. Fine, she'd just reduce it.
Feeling slightly defeated by the screen's relentless critiques, Arya picked up the potion, poured out a third of the liquid in the test tube, and analyzed it again. As expected, the warning about excessive dosage disappeared.
"Huh… maybe a standard potion is ten milliliters?" she guessed, noting that the amount now filled only two-thirds of the test tube.
Still, the fact that the small screen could analyze it meant it was successful. Crude, clumsy, and far from perfect—but a success nonetheless.
Excited, Arya launched a sweeping shopping spree on the exchange.
Test tubes, obviously, but she didn't stop there. Anything cheap and potentially useful for alchemy was added to her cart without hesitation.
Ten liquid dispensers for dividing potions—buy.
Five wooden water ladles—buy.
Three wooden spoons, a bamboo winnowing basket, a bamboo basket, a bar of soap… buy! Buy! Buy! Buy! Buy!!!
Her modest resources, just over 500 units collected over the previous day and night, were more than enough for this haul.
Even better, she snagged two boxes of test tubes, and then a book caught her eye: Basic Semiotics. Ten units of wood? Take it! Absolutely!
She finally exited shopping mode after spending more than half her units, staring at the growing pile beside her desk. Her storage only had ten slots, and while items could stack, it was impossible to contain everything she'd just bought.
Arya floated a little, satisfied, and began organizing. Large items went against the wall or hung from hooks; smaller items filled the resource chest. Immediately, the room felt lived-in and purposeful.
"Ah ha—"
Stretching and yawning, she noticed the fiery red horizon. Dawn had arrived. Since she now had soap and a towel, Arya decided it was the perfect time for a bath.
The moment she thought of bathing, she realized she itched all over. There wasn't enough water in her bucket for a proper bath—barely enough for a wipe-down. The solution? Take advantage of the deserted time and bathe in the small creek nearby.
Privacy wasn't the only concern; the Shelter offered no space for bathing, and daytime didn't guarantee safety from potential monsters.
The cold creek water sent a shiver down her spine, but she had no time to linger. She washed vigorously from head to toe, scrubbed with soap, rinsed, and rushed back to the Shelter.
She tossed the hospital gown into a wooden bucket to soak, moved the now-cooled crucible, oil lamp, and alarm clock from the doorway back into the room, locked the world channel and regional chatrooms, and—still with wet hair—collapsed onto the mattress. Exhaustion claimed her instantly.
After a full day and night without proper sleep, even with her Spiritual Power at eight points, she could no longer hold on. Ten hours later, Arya awoke at four in the afternoon, roused by hunger. She hadn't eaten last night due to excitement over potion-making, nor that morning because she had slept immediately after bathing.
Dressing quickly, she checked her food supply, took out a piece of sourdough bread, and nibbled while examining chat logs on the desk.
The world channel was the same as ever, though people who had recovered from the initial shock were now frantically searching for relatives. In just over thirty hours, the original population of more than 22.65844 billion had dropped to around 22.658 billion—roughly 440,000 people lost. And this was still during the so-called novice protection period. Without it, who knew how many more would have perished?
Even Zone 666 hadn't been spared. By mid-afternoon, only 9,971 people remained. Deaths were frequent, whether accidental or intentional, and impossible to track precisely.
As Arya scrolled, a message caught her attention:
"You won't believe it, but a book I listed on the exchange was bought!"
"A book? Are you sure?"
"Confirmed. Sold for ten units."
Her friends buzzed with curiosity.
"Holy cow! Is this real?"
"It's true! Someone named Arya bought it—and a lot of other items too."
"Buying junk in the middle of a survival crisis? Weird."
"What book?"
"Basic Semiotics. Couldn't read it myself, so I listed it."
"Haha, maybe she just loves studying."
"Studying when we're trying to survive? That's bold."
"Look, it sold, so why not give it a try?"
Reading the messages, Arya couldn't help but cough in amusement. The world had discarded books she had feared she'd never access, and now they were up for grabs.
Without hesitation, she began buying everything she could find. After a thorough round of shopping, her hands were full of books and two boxes of test tubes. Titles included Basic Drawing, The Correct Use of Salt, Four Elements and Four Characteristics, and Mushroom General Knowledge.
Shopping was exhilarating. Arya's face split into a grin as she examined her haul. Unsurprisingly, her spree drew attention.
"Holy cow! Arya is buying books!"
"No way! Can knowledge actually be gained here?"
"Who knows? Try one and see."
"Better not waste materials. With just a few more days, I could upgrade my Shelter to Level 2 before the novice protection ends."
Despite the chaos around her, Arya felt a quiet joy. The world was dangerous, unpredictable, and cruel—but there was still room for discovery, learning, and even a little fun.
Books, potions, tools… all of it represented potential. In the harsh reality she now faced, knowledge wasn't just power—it was survival.
And with that thought, Arya set about organizing her treasures, planning her next moves, and enjoying the rare thrill of a shopping spree that was, in its own small way, victorious.