Ch 26

  "What are your goals beyond just surviving?" Matt asked, hoping this question would help him break the deadlock in his mind.

  He was mostly met with blank stares from the twelve others, until the second man, who had been told to keep quiet, broke the silence.

  "I've already admitted my dream of building a harem, but first I need to become the strongest guy around without becoming a total jerk. Otherwise, I'd just end up being the villain forcing girls to be with me, only for the hero to come along and free them," he said.

  "Got it," Matt interjected. "You really are hopeless."

  "Yeah, well, at least I have something I'm working towards, while everyone else here just wants to survive and figure things out once we're back on Earth," the second man retorted.

  "Not true," the mousy woman interjected. "I want to find my pets alive at the very least."

  "That's not a goal; it's a hope, since you have no way to work towards it right now," rebutted the second man. "All of you are too focused on your worries and not on what you can do right now to improve yourselves."

  "We are working to improve our survival," countered the first man with the widow's peak. "We all agreed that figuring out how to survive here was more important than setting any other goals while we figure out how everything works."

  "They're all a bunch of cowards," remarked the second man. "But you're willing to face this world head-on and risk death to grow stronger. Please, even if you leave the rest of us here, take me with you."

  "He just wants to make a pass at the women with you," remarked the petite woman who had exposed his harem fantasy. "After all, he's already failed with us."

  "Is it your life's mission to discredit me?" the second man asked in an exasperated manner.

  "No, you just make it easy," she replied with a smirk.

  "Enough!" Matt cut in. "The way I see it, he actually has a point, even if it's kind of gross and creepy. Still, if you want to follow me, that means dealing with the fact that the leader of the other six I'm with will take over."

  “What makes her a better leader than I am?” asked the man with the distinctive widow’s peak, his voice tinged with anger.

  “Simple. She has experience managing people and, from my perspective, she’s smart enough to seize the opportunities right in front of her,” replied Matt.

  “You're not sleeping with her, are you?” the petite woman interjected with a raised eyebrow.

  Matt bit his tongue, inwardly amused yet wary, suspecting that her comment hinted that she was a bigger pervert than the guy who wanted a harem. Still, he decided that now was as good a moment as any to cut off such digressions.

  “No, I’m not involved with anyone in that way. My goal is actually to escape people once more and return to a life in solitude—where hardly anyone bothers me,” he explained, his tone resolute.

  “That’s boring,” muttered the petite woman under her breath. “Why not just find a lonely hole somewhere and die? Then you’d have your final escape with absolutely no disturbances.”

  “Have you ever woken up and stepped outside to enjoy an endless view—no concrete structures, no neighbors, and if you look closely enough, not a single sign of human presence?” Matt countered, trying to paint a picture of the serene isolation he craved.

  “Only after coming here,” the petite woman retorted sharply. “And I’ve got to say, it really sucks.”

  “You’re missing the magic of waking up inside a space that feels alive,” commented the man who clearly harbored his own unconventional dreams. “By the way, my name’s Greg. What’s yours?”

  “Matt,” he replied, dismissing the importance of names in the moment.

  “Nonsense,” Greg insisted, flashing a crooked smile. “Knowing someone’s name transforms them from just another faceless figure in a crowd into a real person.”

  Matt blinked at the awkward yet sincere sentiment—he couldn’t help but believe there was a hidden truth behind the clumsy phrasing. “Sure, if you say so. Now, are you all going to agree to my suggestion, or should I just take my leave?”

  “I’m with you,” declared Greg firmly.

  Matt noticed the hesitation among the others; a few even appeared inclined to let Greg and him leave together, calling it a day. However, the mousy woman and the man with the widow’s peak exchanged a meaningful glance before the latter spoke.

  “Give us a few minutes to discuss this as a group. If there are any details you’d like to share that might influence our decision, please do so now.”

  “I’m almost at level 4, and level 3 is when you reach species rank G,” Matt offered, adding a touch of what he’d figured out that he didn’t care about. “Do with that information what you will.”

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  As Matt finished explaining that he had noticed clear interests among several members of the group, he acknowledged that once everything was taken into consideration, it would all end in a wash. After all, everyone should be aware that he was venturing out on his own and fighting the monsters alone based on how he had arrived. He was convinced that once they put all these facts together, they would soon realize that his tricks wouldn’t work for them. Ultimately, the only remaining question was whether they really wanted someone like him on their team as they worked toward any kind of survival scenario.

  "I wouldn’t worry about those cowards," Greg interjected, cutting through Matt’s thoughts. "All this time, it’s just been a constant scramble for water. And those boars we just killed? They’re going to give us the first decent meal in ages. If we can manage to get another fire going—as I still say it was dumb luck that they got one started at our last camp—we'll be set."

  "What method did they use?" asked Matt.

  "They struck a rock against the flat of an axe head, using a pile of shredded bark and leaves as tinder," Greg explained.

  "That’s a solid strategy with the right rock. It just takes practice and a bit of luck regarding where the sparks fall. With persistence, it should start a fire if you’re doing it right. Still, there are better ways to start a fire," Matt mused.

  Greg smirked. "Cool. So tell me, are you like a ninja or something after picking up that dagger?"

  "This," Matt said, raising his knife with a hint of pride, "I got off a goblin I killed. I didn’t pick from any of the choices when all of this began."

  "What? Did you at least gain an attack skill from it?" asked Greg.

  "No, and from what I've seen, those skills aren’t worth much. When it comes to combat, I prefer not to follow any preset movements that can be easily predicted. I fight using whatever means I have at my disposal to kill my enemy," Matt replied.

  Greg’s eyes lit up with curiosity. "So, how many goblins have you killed? I bet you slaughtered your way out, and that's why they're bound to swarm us soon."

  Matt chuckled. "No, I only killed a few goblins with my own hands today. Honestly, I haven’t been keeping track of the exact number."

  "So, you’ve killed so many that you lost count then?" Greg pressed.

  "No, I just never really started counting. Are you really going to be like this all the time?" Matt complained.

  "Probably. I’ve never been one to hold back who I really am. People can either like or hate me for it, but at least they know what to expect," Greg said unapologetically.

  "I assume, judging by the way things are going, that your group is less than thrilled with your openness," Matt noted.

  "Nah, it was mutual. If I'm being completely honest with them, the least they could do is reciprocate," Greg stated with a shrug.

  "Right, so here's a quick question: How far are you willing to go to build your harem?" Matt asked with a thoughtful look in his eye as he thought about Tempormr’s condition.

  "I'm ready for an epic training montage, if that's what you're asking," Greg replied, a spark of ambition in his voice.

  "Epic what?" Matt asked, feigning ignorance.

  "You know that part of the story where the hero goes from being a weak nobody to pushing themselves to the limits and beyond to become a true force, right before they prove themselves to the world?" Greg said.

  "I don't really know; I haven’t read or watched much fiction since middle school," admitted Matt with a laugh.

  "Man, you really are out of touch. That’s even more reason for you to stick with me. I'm not kidding when I say I want to grow stronger, and I'll do whatever it takes," Greg declared.

  Curious, Matt inquired, "What level are you, anyway?"

  "One," came the modest reply.

  "And what have you done to get stronger since arriving here?" Matt pressed further.

  "I’ve been practicing with my wand. But right now, all I seem to manage is creating a gust of wind strong enough to blow-dry someone’s hair," Greg admitted, a wry smile on his face.

  “So, you went straight for the promise of power, then?” Matt remarked, recalling the brief description of the wand from earlier.

  “How else can I achieve my goals? Besides, magic is fricking awesome,” Greg defended with a grin. “I just need to move past the early stage where my magic is underdeveloped.”

  “So, what—do you want me to carry you while you level up or something?” Matt teased.

  “No, I need you to help me secure a second weapon so I can work on using both a wand and a sword—or even a spear. I just want to develop both magic and close combat abilities,” Greg explained earnestly.

  “Even though I’m perfectly willing to watch you die after throwing you to the wolves?” Matt retorted.

  “Are you at least going to ensure I have the tools I need to fight off those wolves?” Greg shot back.

  “You’ve got two arms and two legs with all your digits functioning—what more do you need?” Matt mocked.

  “How about a few fights where you jump in to save me when things get really bad?” Greg insisted.

  “Alright, but not until you’re injured in such a way that, without healing magic or modern medical technology, recovery is nearly impossible,” Matt countered dryly.

  “Man, there’s no love or sympathy at all. Fine—I can deal with that as long as you fight alongside me at least a few times first,” Greg conceded.

  “So that’s a no then,” Matt sighed.

  “I want to live, and I know I’m not yet a skilled fighter. Otherwise, I’d be out there doing what you’re doing and have leveled up a few times already,” Greg admitted.

  Before Matt could respond, the man with the distinctive widow’s peak reappeared, drawing their attention as he began to speak. “We’re willing to go with you, and if the leader of the other group can win us over in a few days, we won’t object to her taking charge.”

  “Cool, but if you object, that means splitting up,” Matt replied briskly.

  “That’s not—” the man began.

  “I don’t care—I won’t force anyone to stay in the group I’m part of. I’d rather run around killing things until I die than deal with infighting over power,” Matt interjected firmly.

  “Well, we don’t want to live under a dictator,” the man with the widow’s peak countered. “So, we need some assurance.”

  “I see. You all haven’t accepted that right now we’re living under a kind of dictatorship. None of us asked to be here, none of us signed up to work with others, and frankly, none of us truly has a choice in how things turn out. If you step back and look around, you'll notice that everything we do is driven more by necessity than desire. After all, I would have left right after the fight if my group hadn’t wanted to increase our numbers. Now, I’m leaving. If you want to come along, then hurry up and follow me. And Greg, your first job is to carry the smaller of those boars back for my group’s dinner. The others can do what they please with the rest.”

  With that, Matt returned to the bundle containing a silver bowl and tableware, slinging it back over his shoulder. As he watched Greg struggle to handle the boar, he felt an urge to sigh—until another guy stepped forward to offer assistance. Soon, a few more joined in, and the entire group gradually started following Matt, though it was evident that more than one of them was less than thrilled about leaving the modest structure that had formed their camp behind.