Aim And Shoot

Cora wiped the dirt from her hands and bit hard into a freshly harvested cucumber. A sweet, crisp flavor exploded across her tongue, the refreshing juice filling her mouth. Harvesting her own rapidly grown food brought a deep sense of satisfaction. The earthy crunch was the perfect reward after a long day of scavenging on the open ocean.

As she ate, she sat on the wooden threshold of her cabin and sorted through her new mountain of supplies. Most items from the resource station had strict purchase limits, making her decisions much simpler given her low coin supply. She grabbed the high-tech protective suit and slipped it straight under her clothes. The material felt light and snug against her skin, molding to her frame without restricting her movements. Next, she organized her binding traps and bombs, stowing them directly into her quick-access backpack for immediate deployment.

The real prize sat in her inventory. The 'NPC only' skill book radiated a faint light. She pulled it out, staring at the green cover. Temporary NPCs exploiting exclusive skills was just a theory, but she needed it to work. Holding her breath in anticipation, she selected the green book in her floating menu and hit 'use'.

A golden notification flashed across her vision:

[Congratulations! You've successfully learned Medical Skill Level 1, and it's automatically upgraded to Level 3. You can now register for a profession in Behemoth City.]

Cora grinned, over the moon with the result. Her theory was proven right. Temporary NPCs could indeed permanently learn and use exclusive skills. Along with the medical upgrade, a faint chime sounded as a new item seamlessly appeared in her inventory slots.

[Pharmaceutical Gloves: Obtainable after learning Medical Skill Level 1. Wear them to craft medicine.]

She took the sleek gloves out and inspected the smooth fabric. "How exactly did you craft medicine? Just roll pills between your palms?" she wondered aloud, staring at her hands. The exact mechanics remained a mystery until she could secure the required blueprints and Blood-Stanching Herbs, but the foundation was set.

Digging deeper into her spatial storage, she pulled out the heavy carton of hot chicken burgers she had scavenged earlier. The savory smell of fried chicken and toasted buns filled the salty night air. She was thrilled beyond belief. Resource station trash was a jackpot. Scavenging through the discarded crates was far more rewarding than standard shopping.

Fuelled by the massive meal, she launched into a sweat-drenched evening combat workout. She spent hours swinging her knife, practicing her footwork, and running drills across the confined space of her floating home. She visualized the monsters from the rumors, using the empty air as her opponent. Sweat stung her eyes and dripped from her chin, but she refused to stop until her stamina bar flashed red. By eleven o'clock, her muscles burned. She took a quick rinse in her self-cleaning bathroom and finally crashed into her bed, falling asleep the second her head hit the pillow.

By daybreak, Cora was up and moving. She set a pot over the fire, and soon, warm cucumber oatmeal was bubbling, filling the cabin with a comforting aroma. While she ate, her interface chimed with a surprise message from Finnick.

She opened the window, a bit uneasy at first, but the text quickly put her at ease. Finnick informed her that his 'grandma' had the next two entire days off. She didn't need to clock in for her temporary NPC job and could rest.

Deeply relieved, Cora closed the message. She needed this uninterrupted, free time for her mission. Securing Finnick's stolen bow tie was her only ticket to getting the energy cores she needed to keep her island afloat.

She finished her breakfast, marched to the control panel, and fired up her underwater thruster. The island hummed beneath her feet. She steered her floating base toward the specific monster coordinates she had logged the day before.

While the island drifted, she scrolled through the global chat channel to gather intel. Almost immediately, a cold chill went down her spine. The casual banter from the previous days had vanished, replaced by sheer panic.

[Trading materials for food. Please help, my food got stolen by monsters.]

[Monsters steal food? Guess I'm lucky I haven't seen any yet. I've only got half a bread left.]

[Same here, got robbed. I gave up my food and made it out alive. Another player didn't, and he got torn apart.]

[The monster you ran into must've been different. The one I saw killed even after the guy gave it his food.]

The glowing text scrolled rapidly as more survivors chimed in with their own harrowing encounters. The sense of dread was palpable through the screen. Cora stopped scrolling, her eyes narrowing. "Different kinds?" she thought sharply, noting the panicked messages about varying monster behaviors. Some merely stole, while others were frenzied killers.

She opened a private message to the terrified user who had witnessed the slaughter. [What's the difference? Would you mind sharing? I can trade supplies for solid information.]

She waited, watching the screen, but received no reply. The silence was unsettling. She recognized the username; it was Tobias, the same guy who used to spam friend requests every single day. If he wasn't answering, things were bad.

By eight in the morning, her journey brought her into a dense, foggy archipelago. The mist hung heavy over the dark water, obscuring the jagged rocks and small patches of land scattered ahead. With her shimmering island shield active, she stayed on high alert, her eyes scanning the murky environment. As long as she remained behind the energy barrier, she was supposedly safe.

Suddenly, a sharp piercing whistle cut through the salty air.

Cora spun around, twisting her body just in time to see a heavy iron arrow thwack against her invisible barrier. The impact sent a ripple of blue light across the dome before the arrow clattered harmlessly onto her wooden deck.

Her heart hammered against her ribs. She had just scanned that exact area and seen nothing. Following the trajectory of the fallen arrow, she squinted into the mist. There, hiding in the murky water, she spotted a green, grassy head. Glowing red eyes pierced through the fog. It was a horn beast—the very frenzied monster that had been attacking players and sharks.

Cora didn't hesitate. She swiftly raised her wrist-crossbow, locking her eyes on the target. This was the chance for some desperately needed live practice.

She pulled the trigger. Her combat form looked cool, her posture perfectly aligned.

Her actual aim, however, was terrible.

The heavy bolt flew wide, landing harmlessly in the distant grass on a nearby rock.

The monster flinched at the sound of the shot, initially ducking back under the water in fear. But after watching Cora reload and miss repeatedly, firing three more bolts into the dirt and water, the feral monster grew bold.

It stepped out of the water and onto the uncharted island's muddy edge. Staring directly at Cora's floating base, the beast began to dance, flailing its arms and making grotesque, mocking faces at her.

"Oh, so now it was mocking me?" Cora thought, her jaw clenching.

Frustrated but forcing herself to keep her cool, she took a deep breath. She adjusted her rigid stance, tweaked her grip on the crossbow, and carefully calculated the drop of the bolt.

She fired her fifth shot. Missed by an inch.

On her sixth desperate shot, the bolt tore through the air and struck its calf.

The beast froze. It let out a gurgling shriek, clutched its bleeding leg, and tried to hop toward the safety of the sea.

Cora didn't stop. Her eyes were cold, her movements mechanical. She fired five more poisoned arrows in quick succession. The snap of the bowstring echoed rapidly across the water. Three of the deadly bolts found their mark.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

The poisoned arrows buried deep into its shoulder, its belly, and its back. The horn beast stumbled, its red eyes dimming as the toxins flooded its system, finally bringing it crashing down dead on the bloody shore.

Lowering the crossbow, Cora let out a long, shaky sigh of relief. The tension drained from her shoulders. She stared at the unmoving carcass on the muddy bank. Without her shimmering shield, she never would have stood there so brazenly in the open, taking shot after shot. And if the monster hadn't been so dumb—opting to dance and mock her instead of seeking cover—she wouldn't have survived so easily.

Instead of rushing out blindly to claim her loot, she stayed firmly planted on her deck. She loaded her remaining arrows and emptied them directly into the dead corpse for target practice. Each bolt thudded into the lifeless meat, helping her memorize the tension and recoil of the weapon.

Once her quiver was empty, she walked to the edge of her floating home. Paddling closer to the muddy bank, she maintained a safe distance from the shore. She cautiously used her long wooden oar to reach out, hooking the scattered arrows and dragging them back. Then, she jammed the flat blade of the oar under the heavy carcass and began to scrape it across the mud.

The wood scraped against the rocks, making a grating sound that set her teeth on edge. The dead weight of the horn beast resisted her pull, slipping a few times before she finally got a solid angle. She refused to step onto the uncharted land. There could easily be more of them hiding in the dense fog, waiting for her to cross the energy barrier.

Panting from the exertion, she finally managed to haul the heavy, bleeding corpse over the threshold and onto her island.

Just as she finished hauling everything in and stepped back to catch her breath, two distinct, heavy splashes echoed nearby in the fog.

Cora snapped her head over, her hand instinctively flying to her empty crossbow. She stared hard into the mist, but she saw nothing—just spreading ripples on the dark water, expanding outward from an unseen source.

She backed away from the edge, stepping deeper into the center of her floating sanctuary. Anyway, playing it safe was the way to go.