Chapter 3: The Rules of the Drought
The tremor in Joey's body wouldn't pass. It was a deep vibration, lodged in his bones, an echo of the violence he had witnessed and of which, in a way, he had been complicit. The hot, stale air of the apartment seemed to carry the metallic scent of fear. Outside the makeshift barricade, Mr. Henderson's moans had turned into a low, desperate cry, which gradually fell silent, swallowed by the oppressive drone of the heat. Joey didn't know what was worse: the screams or the silence that followed.
He huddled, hugging his knees. His mind projected the image of the corkscrew piercing the flesh, of the chemical spray, of the man's face twisted in agony. That was his neighbor. A man who had held the elevator door for him once. A man whose young son, Joey vaguely remembered, wore a Spider-Man backpack. The thought made his stomach turn.
Shinobu finished cleaning the corkscrew and put it back in the drawer with a frightening delicacy. She moved through the gloom of the apartment, grabbed a cloth, dipped it in her precious water, and approached Joey. He recoiled instinctively as she knelt.
"You're hot," she said. It wasn't a question. With a gentleness that seemed completely out of place, she wiped the damp, now-warm cloth on his forehead and the nape of his neck. The touch was light, but the gesture was heavy with meaning. "Shock and dehydration are a dangerous combination."
"He... he just wanted water," Joey whispered, his voice choked. "His son..."
Shinobu's smile didn't waver, but her violet eyes fixed on him with the intensity of an entomologist examining an insect. "Yes. He wanted our water. The water that keeps us alive. If we had opened the door, what do you think would have happened, Master? Do you think he would have taken a glass, said thank you, and left?"
She leaned in a little closer, her voice dropping to a professorial whisper. "Let me tell you a truth about worlds, be it mine or yours: when people are desperate, kindness becomes a luxury few can afford. That man was no longer your neighbor. He was a threat. He saw a closed door as an obstacle to his survival. If he had gotten in, he would have seen us as obstacles too. He would have killed us for a bottle of water, and he would have told himself he did it for his son."
Her words were like shards of glass, sharp and impossible to ignore. They cut through Joey's fog of panic, forcing him to face the cold, brutal logic of the situation.
"In my world," she continued, straightening up, "hesitating out of compassion for a demon meant death, not just yours, but for everyone you were trying to protect. The setting has changed, but the rule is the same. That man became a demon the moment he decided his need gave him the right to take from us by force. I didn't hurt him. I neutralized a threat. You need to understand the difference."
As she spoke, Nezuko, who had been sitting in silence, slowly crawled over to Joey. She didn't touch him, but she sat beside him, pressing her shoulder against his. The contact was surprisingly comforting, a solid, stable point of warmth in the midst of his collapsing world. She emitted a small "hmmmph," a soft sound of concern. It was a simple gesture, a silent counterpoint to Shinobu's ruthless lesson.
One was the sword, the other the shield. And he was in the middle.
"We need to think about the next steps," Shinobu said, her mind already moving on. "This barricade won't last if someone is determined. The water won't last forever. Master, you know this place. Think. Are there other water sources in the building?"
The direct question pulled Joey from his spiral of guilt. He was forced to access the dusty files of his brain. "The... the toilet tanks," he said, the idea seeming disgusting and brilliant at the same time. "The water is clean until you flush. And... the water heaters. Every apartment has one. There must be dozens of liters in each."
Shinobu's eyes lit up with approval. "Excellent. What about the building's structure? Escape routes? Roof access?"
"The roof has a locked door," Joey replied, his mind working faster now. "Access to the fire escape is through the hallway window, but... we're on the third floor. It's a long way down. And the heat... the metal of the ladder must be hot enough to fry skin."
"Useful information," Shinobu nodded. "Knowledge is a weapon. Remember that."
It was at that moment that a soft light emanated from his pocket. Joey took out his phone. The screen, previously dark, was lit up. It wasn't a call or a text message. It was the same clean, minimalist interface of the System.
[First hour of calamity survived.] [Hostile threat neutralized.] [Calculating reward...] [Player Joey Manchester has earned 25 Survival Points (SP).]
A new line of text appeared in the upper corner of the screen, next to a simple gear icon: SP: 25.
"What is that?" Shinobu asked, leaning in to see the screen that only Joey seemed able to read clearly.
"Points... Survival Points," Joey said, reading aloud. "We earned 25 points for... surviving and for what happened with Mr. Henderson."
Before he could process the idea of being "rewarded" for that, the interface changed.
[The System Shop is now available.] [Use your Survival Points to acquire vital resources.] [Remember: The economy of survival is ruthless. Spend wisely.]
A list of items appeared on the screen, most of them grayed out with the label "Insufficient SP". But a few at the top were available.
Purified Water (1 Liter) - Cost: 10 SP Basic Nutrient Ration (1 Day) - Cost: 15 SP Small First Aid Kit (Single Use) - Cost: 20 SP Hand-Crank Flashlight (Durability: Low) - Cost: 25 SP Combat Knife (Common) - Cost: 50 SP [Insufficient] Information: Map to Next Safe Shelter - Cost: 100 SP [Insufficient]
It was a menu for the end of the world. Joey stared at the list, his brain spinning. The flashlight was tempting. Night would come, and the darkness would bring new terrors. The first aid kit was also crucial; the confrontation with Mr. Henderson had proven how quickly things could turn violent.
"What do you see?" Shinobu's voice brought him back.
He read the options to her. She listened intently, her smile fixed. When he finished, she didn't hesitate.
"Water," she said firmly. "We can buy two bottles. All the other items are useful, but useless if we die of thirst in twelve hours. Water extends our lifespan. With more time, we can earn more points."
Her logic was impeccable. He looked at his own pans of lukewarm water. The idea of clean, perhaps even cold, water was a luxury so unimaginable it felt like a dream. It was the obvious choice. The smart choice.
"Okay," Joey said, his voice firmer than he expected. "Water."
He touched the "Purified Water" option on the screen and a small "+" and "-" button appeared. He increased the quantity to "2" and touched the "Purchase [20 SP]" button.
[Confirm purchase?] [2x Purified Water for 20 SP.]
He pressed "Confirm". His Survival Points on the screen instantly dropped to 5.
And then, it happened. The same phenomenon as before, but on a smaller scale. The air in front of him shimmered. Particles of light gathered, not in a violent vortex, but in a soft coalescence. For a second, the shape of two one-liter plastic bottles glowed with a bluish light, and then they solidified, dropping the last few inches onto the dusty carpet with a soft thud.
They were there. Real. Droplets of cold condensation ran down their sides, forming small dark puddles on the carpet. They were the most beautiful things Joey had ever seen.
He picked one up. It was ice-cold. The shock of the cold on his sweaty hand was such an intense relief that he almost cried. He held it out to Shinobu.
She took it, examining it with curiosity. She twisted the cap, and the crisp sound of the plastic seal breaking echoed in the silence. She smelled the water, then took a small, deliberate sip. Her shoulders relaxed an almost imperceptible degree. "It's clean," she confirmed.
She then offered the bottle to Nezuko. The demon girl looked at the bottle, then at Joey, and shook her head, pushing the bottle back toward him with a small "mmph."
Shinobu observed the exchange. "She wants you to drink first, Master."
Joey looked at Nezuko, who was staring at him with her big pink eyes, and then at the bottle of cold water in his hand. It was more than just water. It was proof. Proof that the System was real, proof that they could fight, that they could win, that they could survive. It was hope, in a one-liter plastic bottle.
With his hands still shaking, but now with purpose, he opened the second bottle, the sound of the seal breaking being the sweetest music he had ever heard. He took a gulp. The cold water ran down his dry throat, extinguishing a fire he didn't even know was burning so intensely. It was the best thing he had ever tasted.
He looked at his two companions in the gloom of his apartment-fortress. The world outside was still hell. The danger was real and immediate. But for the first time, amidst the terror and despair, Joey Manchester felt a spark of something he thought he had lost forever: the will to fight for tomorrow.
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