Chapter 10: System Upgrade

With 108 stones in hand, Chen Zhuo opened the Trading Market, curious to see what tempting treasures were waiting for him to claim.

【Trade Item: Sewing Kit – Required: Wood】
【Trade Item: Basic Medical Kit – Required: Stone】
【Trade Item: Deep Field Teacher’s Photobook – Required: Stone】
【Trade Item: Simple Stove Blueprint – Required: Stone】
【Trade Item: Wooden Ladder Blueprint – Required: Stone】
【Trade Item: Hunting Bow Blueprint – Required: Stone】

“Nice stuff,” he muttered. “Hmm? Wait… something weird slipped in here.”

Chen Zhuo didn’t dwell on it. He slowly sifted through the list, weighing each item’s value, deciding what was urgent and what could wait.

First, he zeroed in on the sewing kit and basic medical kit—essential survival gear, vital for daily upkeep and emergency repairs. He quickly traded 25 stones and 10 wood for both.

Next came the simple stove blueprint and wooden ladder blueprint. These weren’t just conveniences—they’d upgrade his shelter’s functionality and comfort. Long-term investment? Absolutely worth it. No hesitation—he added them to his cart.

Then there was the hunting bow blueprint. That one felt necessary. While the iron sword the system had gifted him was solid, it was close-range only. Facing off against fierce creatures? Risky. A bow would let him strike from a distance—safe, efficient, and perfect until he got his hands on that long-awaited gene serum.

He pictured himself taking down monsters from fifty meters away—no messy blood, no close encounters. Much safer. At least until he could finally unlock that dream.

Finally, his eyes landed on the *Deep Field Teacher’s Photobook*. Odd choice. Out of place. But Chen Zhuo didn’t hesitate. He snatched it up.

Not because he wanted to look. No way. It was about responsibility. Those kinds of things—filthy, distracting, morale-killing—had no business spreading among survivors. He’d buy it, then personally destroy it. One less temptation, one less distraction.

For ten minutes, he stared at the photobook with the cold, judgmental gaze of a man who’d seen too much. Then, with a grunt, he shoved it into his backpack.

“Damn, that Snowko’s got some serious milk-white skin,” he muttered.

……

All transactions totaled 90 stones.

He could’ve bargained a bit more—but then he thought: these might be someone’s last hope. Maybe their life savings. Better not push it. Saving ten stones wouldn’t make a real difference anyway.

This wasn’t sudden kindness. Not even a little saint complex. More like strategy. The people who could trade blueprints and rare items? They’d be future customers. Building goodwill now meant better deals later.

Besides, everyone was stuck in their shelters. Plenty of time to collect while the acid rain kept pouring outside. Upgrading stone houses meant trading goods for stones—and most folks still had empty pockets. Even those with stone homes had built them recently. Their supplies were bare.

Only Chen Zhuo kept getting stones. So why not grab everything useful while the chance was open?

Speaking of “grabbing”—his survival platform backpack was officially full. So he piled the stone axe, stone pick, instant noodles, and map onto the table instead.

To save space, he immediately used the three blueprints he’d just bought. No point keeping them idle.

“Gotta start thinking about building a warehouse soon,” he mused.

……

The next morning, after breakfast and before starting work, Chen Zhuo noticed the chat channel suddenly exploded.

“What do we do? My wooden house is collapsing—it’s leaking water!”
“Wait—you just realized? Mine started dripping last night.”
“Now we’re just patching holes with whatever we can find. If you want to live, use your wood to fix the roof.”
“Fixing it won’t help. It’ll fall apart again in days.”
“At least it’s better than dying right now, isn’t it?”
“Anyone got extra wood left? I’m out. Anyone lend me some? After the acid rain stops, I’ll bring my foundation stone and join your shelter.”

“Lend? Kid, you’re dreaming. I’ve got no stones, but plenty of wood. Want some? Trade something good.” A beefy avatar popped up.

“Brother, I’ve got half a stale bread loaf—can that trade for some wood?” The survivor held up the crumbly piece, voice trembling with desperation.

“No wood. No food. You’re just wasting resources. Go sit in the corner and die quietly.” The big guy turned away without another word.

Chen Zhuo scrolled up. Hundreds of messages like this. All ended the same way—ignored, drowned out by newer chaos.

He knew it wasn’t that they were hopeless. It was just that spawn points varied. Some gathered supplies faster. Others barely scraped by.

But he didn’t pity them. He wasn’t here to play hero. Survival wasn’t charity. Helping others now would only drag him into the same mess later.

Back to work.

……

For the next three days, Chen Zhuo kept up his steady rhythm.

By day, he dug—each swing of the iron pick powerful, precise. Every effort paid off double. By night, he roamed the market, scanning for hidden gems, trading stones for tools and supplies that mattered.

Three days passed. His inventory grew—filled with rare items others had hoarded. Nothing top-tier, sure, but plentiful and useful.

Still, none of that mattered.

Today, his happiness meter finally broke 100.

After upgrading his stone hut to a Precision Stone Hut, the system had been giving him 11 happiness points daily. Add in two pork meals every day for the past few days—unnoticed, but cumulative. And suddenly, there it was.

**[Ding! Congratulations, Host. Happiness Score has broken 100. System Upgraded.]**
**[……]**
**[Ding! Upgrade Successful. New Feature Unlocked: Shelter Assessment.]**

“This comes at the perfect time,” Chen Zhuo said aloud. “My mountain shelter’s nearly done. Time to test this new feature.”

**[Ding! Awarded Advanced Reward Pack X1. Open?]**

“Yes!”