The sun had fully risen, but it brought no warmth. The light filtering through the chemical haze of Ilha Grande was pale and diffused, casting no sharp shadows, only a flat, encompassing grey.
Leon moved low to the ground, his boots finding purchase on the shifting piles of compacted trash with a silence born of necessity. The howl he had heard earlier had drifted east, but the silence that followed was heavy with implication.
"Where are we going?" Layla asked. Her voice in his head was clear, stripped of the grogginess from the night before.
"Abraão," Leon whispered, keeping his eyes on the ridge of crushed cars ahead. "Abraão Beach. The main dock."
"The main human settlement?" Layla questioned. "Statistical models suggest population centers will have the highest density of mutations. Going there is... counter-intuitive to survival."
"It's the only place with a dock that matters," Leon corrected, sliding down a slope of loose gravel. "Thiago used to moor his boat there. A converted trawler. If it's still floating, maybe it's the only way off this rock. I don't want to die in isolation."
"Thiago is dead," Layla reminded him, her tone devoid of cruelty, just stating a fact.
"Yeah. But his keys usually stayed under the wheelhouse mat. And unlike him, the boat can't turn into a monster."
They moved for another twenty minutes, navigating the treacherous geography of the island. Ilha Grande had been a paradise once, but now, the path to Abraão Beach was a labyrinth of rusted hulls, collapsed resort buildings, and hills composed entirely of compressed industrial waste.
They were crossing a depression formed by two collapsed warehouses when the smell hit him. It wasn't the usual scent of rust and ozone. It was sharp, vinegar-sour, and burned the inside of his nose.
"Stop," Layla commanded. "I sensed a small disturbance in the air. Twelve o'clock."
Leon froze behind a slab of concrete.
Thirty meters ahead, something was blocking the path. It was humanoid, or had been. It stood on two legs, but its posture was hunched, its spine protruded in jagged spikes that tore through its skin. But the most terrifying feature wasn't its claws — it was its jaw. The lower mandible was split in two, hanging loose, and a translucent, pulsating sac hung from its throat like a grotesque goiter.
As if to demonstrate, the creature coughed — a wet, retching sound — and spat a glob of green fluid at a pile of scrap metal. The metal hissed, bubbling violently as it dissolved into sludge.
Leon swallowed hard. "It melts metal. I'm wearing cloth..."
"Avoidance is recommended Leon." Layla said.
"No shit, Sherlock."
Leon looked around. The depression was a choke point. Steep walls of unstable debris on both sides. To go around meant climbing loose trash, making noise. To go back meant losing hours.
"It's blocking the only stable path to the beach," Leon hissed.
The creature's head snapped up. It didn't have eyes, just dark pits, but it sniffed the air. The sac on its neck pulsed, turning a brighter, sickly green.
It had found him.
"Movement detected," Layla warned. "From its stance I think it is preparing a projectile attack. Range is around forty meters. Accuracy is unknown"
Leon broke cover, sprinting toward a rusted tractor chassis as a stream of acid slashed through the air where he had been standing a second ago. The concrete slab hissed and began to smoke, the surface liquefying.
"I can't get close!" Leon yelled, diving behind the tractor. "If I touch that thing..."
He gripped his knife, but it felt like a toothpick against a tank. He reached into his pack, his hand brushing against the heavy, rectangular shape of the Energy Storage Unit.
"Leon," Layla's voice sharpened. "The module. Pull it out."
"The battery? It's damaged! It shocked me yesterday!"
"Exactly," Layla replied. "The creature acts as a biological capacitor, but its primary weapon is liquid. Aqueous solutions are conductive."
Another glob of acid struck the tractor's wheel, eating through the rubber and steel rim. The creature was closing the distance, loping forward with an uneven, terrifying gait.
"What do I do?" Leon shouted, pulling the heavy module from his pack.
"The terminals are exposed but the gap is too wide for a spontaneous arc at this voltage," Layla instructed, time seeming to slow as she spoke. "Insert your knife blade between the positive and negative poles. Do not let it touch both! Just narrow the gap. Leave two millimeters of space."
"Are you crazy? If I slip, I blow my hand off!"
"Calculated risk. Do it. Now!"
Leon jammed the tip of his rusted knife into the casing, wedging it between the thick industrial connectors. His hands shook, sweat stinging his eyes.
The creature roared, the sac swelling to the size of a basketball. It was ten meters away.
"Wait for the spit!" Layla ordered. "Wait... Wait..."
The creature's throat convulsed.
"THROW IT! NOW!"
Leon hurled the heavy module with everything he had. It wasn't a graceful throw, but it was accurate. The heavy brick of technology spun through the air, the knife protruding from it like a chaotic antenna.
The creature, driven by pure predatory instinct, didn't dodge. It spat.
The stream of pressurized acid intercepted the module in mid-air, just feet from the beast's face.
The liquid coated the module instantly. It flowed over the casing, washing over the connectors and the steel blade of the knife. The acid bridged the two-millimeter gap.
KRAKOOOM!
The air turned white. The remaining 34% charge of an industrial energy unit, meant to power heavy machinery for a week, released in a microsecond.
The arc of blue lightning didn't just explode; it traveled backward up the stream of acid.
The creature's scream was cut short by a sound like wet meat hitting a grill. The electricity surged through the conductive fluid, boiling the sac instantly and frying the creature's nervous system from the inside out.
The beast was thrown backward as if kicked by a giant, slamming into the trash heap. It twitched once, smoke pouring from its open chest cavity, and then went still.
Leon stood up, breathing hard, his ears ringing.
"Take that you fucking bastard!..." Layla said, sounding satisfied. "Ahem… As I suspected. The acid provided a low-resistance path. You effectively turned its own weapon into a grounding wire."
"You..." Leon gasped, wiping sweat from his forehead. "You could have mentioned the lightning would travel upstream."
"I did not want to overcomplicate your throwing motion with fear," she replied calmly.
Leon walked cautiously toward the carcass. The smell of ozone was overpowering, masking the sour stench of the acid. The Energy Module was gone — obliterated in the blast.
"What a waste," Leon muttered. "That battery was worth fifty credits after a good repair."
"Look," Layla said.
Leon squinted. The creature wasn't bleeding. Instead of blood, a thick, shimmering liquid was oozing from the center of its chest. It looked like mercury, heavy and silver, pooling on the ground without sinking into the dirt.
As he watched, the liquid began to move. It defied gravity, swirling upward, condensing, hardening. The silver shifted colors, turning into a vibrant, impossible red, then wrapping itself in a golden ribbon.
In seconds, the gore of the dead monster had vanished. Sitting on the ground, amidst the filth and ruin of Ilha Grande, was a pristine, shiny, red gift box with a golden bow. It looked like something from a cartoon. It was opulent, colorful, and completely insane.
"You have got to be kidding me," Leon whispered.
He stepped closer. The box pulsed with a faint light.
"Is this... a trap?" Leon asked.
"Unknown," Layla admitted. "You can try sticking your pitiful cable on it…"
Leon didn't laugh. He hesitated, then knelt. He reached out, his hand hovering over the golden bow.
Ping!
The sound was crisp, digital, and came from the air itself. A blue window snapped open in front of his face. It wasn't the amber text of his analysis skill, but the sleek interface of the System.
[ RULE Nº 2 UNVEILED ]
The text dissolved, replaced by a new banner:
[ RULE Nº 2 - LUCK FAVORS THE BOLD ]
Then, the voice returned. That clumsy, irritatingly casual male voice that tried too hard to sound like a friend.
"Oh, look at that! First kill! And a messy one, too. Very creative with the battery. I give it a solid 7 out of 10 for improvisation, though you lost points for looking terrified."
Leon glared at the interface. "What is this? And why you said first kill?" he asked, pointing at the box.
"That, my dear Leon, is your paycheck! The other one didn't sustain damage directly from you!" the voice exclaimed. "Every creature you defeat directly will release its core. But because we value aesthetics here, the core takes the form of a beautiful, shiny, perfect gift box! Isn't it festive?"
The box shimmered, the red paper looking wet and glossy.
"Open it to test your luck once again," the voice continued, dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Gift boxes always contain at least a Common-tier resource that can be critical for survivability! Maybe food? Maybe a weapon? Maybe a pair of clean socks? Who knows!"
Leon didn't move.
"Oh, come on," the voice groaned, sounding impatient. "Don't be a fricking coward, my dear Leon. You already survived the apocalypse, the roulette, and the acid-spitting zombie. Are you really going to be defeated by a ribbon? Open the box!"
Leon clamped his jaw shut, refusing to give the voice the satisfaction of a retort. With a sharp exhale, he reached out and yanked the golden ribbon.
The box didn't unfold like cardboard; it exploded into a cloud of silent particles that swirled violently before coalescing into a solid shape suspended in the air.
Instead of the dull grey notification Leon had expected, a vibrant emerald light bathed his face, cutting through the island's gloom.
[ UNCOMMON ]
The word floated in the air, pulsing with a reassuring, steady beat.
"Well, well!" the clumsy voice chuckled, sounding genuinely surprised. "Beating the odds already? That's a twenty-five percent chance, kid. Don't let it go to your head."
Leon ignored the commentary and grabbed the object hovering in the fading light. It was a tube, about six inches long, made of a smooth, matte-black material that felt unnaturally cool to the touch. It was seamless, marked only by faint blue rings.
He instinctively used his appraisal ability. The amber grid from his cable overlaid the green system text. The annoying voice muted.
[ ITEM: Molecular Sieve Straw ]
[ RANK: Uncommon ]
[ DURABILITY: Approx. 2 to 10L of potable water. Depends on the inital state of the liquid.]
[ EFFECT: Removes 99.999% of particulate matter, heavy metals, biological pathogens, and dissipates radiation. ]
"This architecture is advanced," Layla observed, her voice echoing with sudden focus in his mind. "Standard human filtration required chemical tablets and pressure pumps just to achieve even eighty percent safety by the year I was created. This device uses molecular disassembly, powered by an ultraportable energy storage unit."
Leon stared at the straw. On Ilha Grande, water was a slow killer; the plants had sickened long ago, and the water sources left a metallic trace that poisoned those who lingered. The aquifers were exhausted, and the ocean was saturated with artificial particles. To drink was usually to gamble with sickness.
"You mean..." Leon started, turning the sleek tube in his hands.
"I mean you could drink from a puddle of engine coolant and mud, and this would deliver pure H2O," Layla confirmed. "It effectively removes the survival requirement for clean water sources. You have just solved one of your primary physiological threats temporarily."
"But two to ten liters?" Leon hissed, the relief evaporating. "That's it? That's barely a week of water if I'm rationing. Less if I keep facing those freaks and have to run like a horse."
"The variance is high because the filtration matrix degrades physically when trapping heavy isotopes, and the energy stored inside is not infinite." Layla explained, her voice sounding clearer than before, almost conspiring.
"But… How do you know all of that?!" Leon's face looked quite puzzled.
"Remember when I said I could read the metrics? I've found a loophole. I can access the raw data right before the System classifies and filters it for your personal item display. It's a narrow window, though — the algorithms get way too complex after that."
Leon clipped the straw to his belt, a rare smile touching his lips. "Maybe luck isn't completely dead after all."
"Don't jinx it," Layla whispered.