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Traveling to ancient tribes to build infrastructure Novel Cover

Traveling to ancient tribes to build infrastructure

I woke up with a splitting headache, only to realize I had transmigrated into the body of a fragile rodent-variant female in a brutal, mutated wasteland. Before I could even process my new reality, I was shoved into a mandatory pairing auction. The guards gave me exactly ten seconds to find a partner, or I would be sent to the deadly border patrol squads as cannon fodder. Three massive, heavily scarred mutants with greedy eyes immediately locked onto me, ready to claim me as their plaything. Desperate for a legal shield, I scrambled away from the brutes and made a shocking choice. I walked straight up to the one person everyone else was avoiding like the plague—a sickly, pale man coughing up dark red blood in the corner. "Partner up. I need a shield, you need a caretaker." When the guard registered our names, the entire square erupted in open mockery. The chieftain even warned me that my new partner was poisoned, a dead man walking who couldn't hunt or protect me. In their eyes, a weakling and a dying man were nothing but a joke, doomed to freeze or starve. But the jeering crowd didn't know two things. First, I possessed a wealth of old-world survival knowledge. Second, the fragile man sleeping on my stone bed wasn't just a dying invalid. Why would an elite silver wolf warrior with terrifying, suppressed power hide among the lowest of the low? I didn't care about his secrets. Looking at the barren dirt behind our rundown shelter, I handed him a stone hoe. While the rest of the camp waited for us to die, we were going to build an impenetrable underground fortress.
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Chapter 3

The first ray of morning light cut through the hole in the roof, hitting Ariel directly in the face.

She groaned, rolling over. Every bone in her body ached from sleeping on the solid stone slab. She felt like she had been beaten with sticks.

She glanced sideways. Elvin was still asleep, his breathing shallow but even. She moved quietly, slipping out from under the thin blanket and stepping outside.

Behind the shelter, a patch of mutated vines grew wild. Ariel selected a few of the thickest, most flexible ones. She snapped them off and carried them back.

She sat on the threshold, her hands moving fast. Her fingers tied knots, twisted strands, and wove the vines together with practiced ease. It was a skill burned into her muscle memory from the old world.

Less than thirty minutes later, a simple fish basket sat in her lap. It had a narrow opening and a wide belly. Perfect.

The wooden door creaked. Elvin stepped out, rubbing his temples. He froze when he saw her pulling the final knot tight on the basket.

His eyes narrowed slightly, a spark of curiosity breaking through his usual dull, sickly facade. But he quickly masked it with a dry, hollow cough.

Ariel looked up. She grinned, holding the basket high.

"Come on," she said, waving him over. "Let's go to the river."

They walked down the rocky path. The camp was just waking up, the air still cool. They reached the riverbank at the edge of the camp. The water ran fast and dark.

Ariel found a deep pool where the current circled back on itself. She dropped the basket into the water, weighing it down with heavy stones.

She dug into the muddy bank, pulling out a few fat, squirming mutated earthworms. She crushed them and tossed the bait into the basket.

While they waited, Ariel scanned the riverbank. She picked up several thin, sharp-edged stones. She tested their weight and balance, then tucked them into her belt.

Half an hour passed. Ariel pointed at the water.

"Pull," she instructed.

Elvin grabbed the vine rope. Together, they hauled the heavy basket up.

It broke the surface. Water splashed everywhere. Inside, more than a dozen mutated fish thrashed wildly, their silver scales flashing in the sunlight.

Elvin stared. He looked genuinely stunned. These fish were notoriously hard to catch. Fast, slippery, and usually ignored by the camp.

Ariel smirked. She grabbed one of the sharp stones. In three swift moves, she gutted a fish, scraping out the innards and tossing them aside. She did it again. And again.

Then came the hard part. She laid a thick filet of white fish meat on a flat rock. She picked up another heavy stone and began to pound. Smash. Smash. Smash.

She beat the meat relentlessly. Slowly, the flaky flesh began to bind together, turning into a sticky paste. She spotted some wild ginger grass growing nearby. She ripped up a handful, squeezed the juice over the meat, and kept pounding to kill the fishy smell.

She built a small stove out of a few large rocks. She set their only dented iron pot on top, filled it with water from the river, and started a fire.

When the water boiled, Ariel grabbed a handful of the sticky fish paste. She squeezed her left hand into a fist, and using her thumb and index finger, she forced a perfect, round ball of meat out. She flicked it into the boiling water. Plop. Plop. Plop.

The white balls bobbed to the surface. A rich, savory aroma exploded into the air. It was incredible. Nothing like the burnt, gamey smell the camp was used to.

Elvin swallowed hard. His throat bobbed visibly. His eyes were locked onto the pot.

Ariel fished out a steaming ball with a stick. She blew on it twice and held it up to Elvin's lips.

"Eat."

He hesitated for a second, then opened his mouth. He bit down.

The texture was springy, bouncy. The flavor was rich, fresh, and deeply satisfying. It burst across his taste buds. It was a sensation he had never experienced in this wasteland.

His eyes flew wide open. He stared at Ariel, this dirty, skinny girl, like she had just performed a miracle.

Ariel saw his shock. Her smile widened.

"Let's make it official," she said. "Permanent partnership. Lifetime registration."

Elvin chewed slowly. He swallowed. He didn't even pause to think.

"Yes."

He nodded.

They poured the rest of the soup into a wooden bucket and hurried toward the center of the camp. They had to see the chieftain.

As they walked, Ariel looked down at the hard, yellow dirt under her feet. In her mind, she wasn't just seeing dirt. She was seeing blueprints. Foundations. Walls. An underground fortress.

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