Wasteland Overlord: From Ruins to World Peak

Cold rain mixed with radioactive dust pricked the back of his neck like rusted needles, and Lucas Witt jolted awake, his body seized by a bitter chill. All he could see were the charred remains of dead trees, split apart by purple lightning, and beneath his feet was sticky, dark red mud that reeked of a weird, cloying stench—metallic iron and rot tangled together. This wasn't his shabby rental apartment, and it sure as hell wasn't the company basement. The last fragments of his memory clung to Brian Cole's sneering face. In the department meeting, Brian had torn up the project plan he'd pulled an all-nighter to finish, sneering that he was "a bottom-feeder who'd never make it to the top." Then Lucas had walked out of the office, arms full of a cardboard box stuffed with old textbooks, and in the middle of the downpour, a blinding white light had swallowed him whole. "Fuck… this isn't a dream." Lucas struggled to his feet, a searing, tearing pain shooting through his knee. His work pants were shredded at the knee, and the bleeding wound stung as the rain soaked into it. He patted his pockets instinctively—phone, wallet, even the switchblade he kept for self-defense were all gone. Those had been his only tiny bits of security after years of scraping by at the bottom. Years of swallowing his pride at work had drilled caution into him. Lucas didn't rush into anything; instead, he squatted behind a fallen, blackened tree trunk, dipped his finger in the mud, and brought it to his nose. The metallic stench hit him hard, mixed with the smell of decay, making his stomach heave. He realized instantly: this wasn't normal dirt—it was almost certainly radiation-contaminated wasteland. A low, bone-chilling roar echoed in the distance, nothing like any beast he'd ever heard on Earth. Lucas held his breath, inching slowly behind a half-human-tall boulder, peering through the cracks. Three giant hyenas—over two meters tall—were tearing apart the corpse of some unknown creature. Their fur was crisscrossed with eerie black streaks, their blood-red eyes glinting with malice, and thick, black blood dripped from their sharp fangs. "Holy shit…" Lucas's heart hammered against his chest, cold sweat soaking through his shirt. After years of fighting to survive at the bottom, he'd learned to lay low and observe. He knew running now would only give him away, turning him into the monsters' next meal. He forced himself to calm down, his eyes darting around for a place to hide. On a hillside not far off, an abandoned watchtower came into view. Its walls were pockmarked with bullet holes and worn thin, clearly battle-scarred, but its structure was still intact enough to offer temporary shelter. More importantly, a weed-choked path wound down from the tower to the valley below—maybe there was water and food there. "I'll hide in there first." Lucas made up his mind, slithering through the bushes like a snake, his steps light to avoid snapping twigs or kicking stones. The giant hyenas had a nose like bloodhounds; he didn't dare take any chances. Only when he reached the base of the watchtower did he let out a shaky breath. The tower door was made of thick oak, with a rusted iron lock hanging from it, the hasp already loose. Lucas picked up a sharp-edged stone from the ground and smashed it hard against the hasp. With a loud clang, the hasp snapped, and the door creaked loudly, swinging open slowly. The tower reeked of mold and dust, dim and gloomy. Lucas groped his way up the spiral staircase to the observation deck. From here, he had a clear view of the entire valley—in the center, a barbed-wire-enclosed area held a few low, ramshackle buildings, hinting that someone might be living there. "People? Or a trap?" Lucas frowned, not daring to jump to conclusions. Just then, his eyes fell on a metal box in the corner, with a faded label covered in weird, twisted symbols he couldn't recognize. Hunger and thirst gnawed at him, and Lucas didn't waste time staring at the symbols. He picked up another stone and smashed open the box's lock. Inside, there wasn't much—several bottles of murky water, half a bag of protein bars, and a beat-up first-aid kit. "Lucky break," he muttered, grabbing one of the bottles and twisting off the cap. It tasted like rust, but he chugged it down anyway, relieving the burning in his throat. As he reached for the first-aid kit to tend to his knee, a blue light suddenly flashed from the kit, and a translucent panel appeared out of thin air in front of him, glowing with green text that was crystal clear: [Civilization Reconstruction System v1.0 Activated][Host: Lucas Witt][Current Status: Mild Dehydration, Left Arm Abrasion, Knee Laceration, Mild Radiation Exposure][Survival Points: 0/100] Lucas almost dropped the first-aid kit in shock. He rubbed his eyes hard, but the panel was still there—his fingers passed right through it, like it was just a hologram. "Is this… a cheat skill?" he whispered to himself, memories of time-travel novels popping into his head, a flicker of hope igniting in his chest. A second later, the panel flickered again: [Newbie Gift Pack Granted: Basic Survival Knowledge, Simple Tool Set, Language Comprehension Module] A flood of information surged into his head, like a thousand needles pricking his brain. Lucas grunted in pain, nearly collapsing to the floor. After what felt like an eternity, the pain faded. He looked back at the label on the metal box, and the once-unrecognizable symbols suddenly made sense—it was Orcish, and it read "Bloodclaw Tribe Supply Cache." Lucas quickly pulled himself together. Years of dealing with workplace PUA had taught him better than to show his hand too soon, especially in this strange, deadly wasteland. If anyone found out he was a time-traveler, they'd probably treat him like a freak, a lab rat, or just kill him outright. "From now on, I'm just a lost survivor in the wasteland. Lucas Witt." He spoke quietly to the empty air, his voice firm. The panel flickered again: [Detected Host Hiding Identity. Reward: 10 Survival Points] [Survival Points: 10/100] Lucas raised an eyebrow. Seems this system knew a thing or two about surviving. Night fell quickly, and purple lightning flashed occasionally across the sky, illuminating the ruins in the distance. Lucas used some broken planks from inside the watchtower to bar the windows and door, then wrapped himself in a moldy blanket he found. He sat on the observation deck, staring at the barbed-wire area in the valley, lost in thought. There might be people there, more resources—but it could just as easily be a death trap. He was weak right now, with no way to take any risks. Just then, the system panel popped up again: [Detected Low-Radiation Water Source 3km Away] [Consume 5 Survival Points for Detailed Map?] Water was the key to survival. Lucas didn't hesitate to select "Yes." A holographic map appeared instantly, marking the valley's terrain, the water source, and dangerous areas—mutant creature habitats, high-radiation zones—all clear as day. He saw a small stream next to the barbed-wire area, labeled "Low Radiation, Drinkable." "Tomorrow, I'll get water first, then check out that area." Lucas made up his mind. The roars in the distance continued, but he wasn't as scared as he'd been at first. Years of swallowing his pride at work had taught him to find hope even in the darkest places. He huddled in the corner, recalling the blurry textbook knowledge in his head—engineering, physics, chemistry… all the things he'd once thought useless. Maybe they'd be his only way to survive in this wasteland, to even turn things around. "Brian Cole, just you wait." He made a silent vow in his heart. "In this world, I won't let anyone push me around anymore. I'll climb to the top, and I'll show you that even a bottom-feeder can become the overlord of the world." (End of Chapter 1)