Picking the Path

  [SYSTEM NOTICE: TRUCK TIER II – UPGRADE PATH UNLOCKED]

  Kenji leaned back in his reinforced chair, the frame groaning under his weight. He cracked open a lukewarm can of Kenji’s Meltdown Miso Surprise? and slurped without enthusiasm.

  The system screen buzzed.

  [AVAILABLE UPGRADE PATHS – SELECT YOUR FATE, SNACK MASTER]

  As always, the first batch of options was divine trolling at its finest:

  ? “Gourmet Deathcopter Deluxe”

  ? “Soup-Spewing Tank Mode”

  ? “Shack to the Future: Meat Edition”

  Kenji scowled. “System, cut the clowning.”

  [GODS’ COMMENTARY MUTED – BORING HUMAN DETECTED]

  The screen reloaded.

  Real options appeared. Logical. Grounded. Each offering different perks. Defensive reinforcement. Expanded culinary options. Trade optimization.

  But Kenji didn’t need more soup. Not now.

  What he needed—was control.

  [UPGRADE PATH SELECTED: AUTONOMOUS DRONE BAY MODULE]

  Installs modular drone hangar with support for up to 5 units. Drones can be customized for scouting, salvage, repair, defense, and perimeter setup.

  [INITIATING DRONE HIVE PATH]

  Kenji didn’t even blink. “Robots it is. The best slaves are the ones that don’t get jealous.”

  Outside, a whirring hum echoed as the Shack’s rear plating shifted. Panels folded outward, revealing a compact expansion pod. Thin docking rails, crane arms, and fabrication scaffolds unfolded from the structure.

  [DRONE BAY ONLINE – MAX CAPACITY: 5 DRONES]

  [BLUEPRINTS AVAILABLE: SCOUT, SALVAGE, BUILDER, GUARD, SCAVENGER]

  Kenji reviewed each drone type:

  ? Scout – fast, agile, long-range mapping

  ? Salvage – resource retrieval and hauling

  ? Builder – automated repair and construction

  ? Guard – light defense unit with shock module

  ? Scavenger – long-range wreckage hunter, fully autonomous

  Each one was flexible. Modular parts. Swap loadouts. Customize per need.

  [ENERGY NOTE: EACH DEPLOYED DRONE USES 1% CORE POWER]

  [CURRENT CORE LEVEL: 75%]

  Kenji clicked his tongue. “Five drones. Five percent. That’s fair.”

  He selected his loadout:

  ? 2 Scouts

  ? 1 Salvage

  ? 1 Builder

  ? 1 Guard

  The Drone Bay activated. Lights flashed. The arms worked fast—piecing together metal, wiring, and energy cores with efficient precision.

  Minutes later, the drones deployed.

  The scouts zipped into the snow, scanning terrain and beast signatures. The builder rolled out and began laying emitter rods. The salvage unit hovered beside the recycler chute, waiting for assignment. The guard drone stood by the hatch, stun emitter glowing.

  Kenji stepped out into the cold, feeling the warmth of the Crimson Core radiating above.

  The Shack didn’t look like much from afar.

  But now… it had eyes.

  It had claws.

  And more importantly, it had hands that worked for free.

  He grinned. “Let’s build a kingdom of cans and circuits.”

  [DRONE HIVE PATH – PHASE ONE COMPLETE]

  [NEXT UPGRADE UNLOCKS AT TIER III]

  Snow-Crawlers and Supply Lines

  By mid-afternoon, the builder drone had fully deployed perimeter beacon rods, outlining a crude but growing safezone. The 100-meter radius around the Shack was now warmer and more stable thanks to the Crimson Core. The drones moved without rest—automated, efficient, and obedient. Just the way Kenji liked them.

  He was halfway through a can of Kenji’s Survival Slush Delight? when the turret pinged.

  [INCOMING CONTACT – SNOW-CRAWLER – 3 SIGNATURES]

  [STATUS: NON-HOSTILE – FACTION TAG: RUST DRIVERS]

  Kenji toggled the comms. “State your purpose.”

  A raspy voice replied. “We got tech. You got food. We want in.”

  “Then crawl up slowly. If the turret twitches, I won’t stop it.”

  The crawler rumbled into view—patched armor, half-frozen, carrying three passengers. Two scavengers and one mechanical-limbed bodyguard.

  They hauled crates forward. Rusted. Heavy.

  Kenji’s guard drone rolled closer, sensor eye glowing.

  “System, value check.”

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  [SCRAP TECH (3 UNITS), REACTOR CORE FRAGMENTS (2), RARE BEAST TALON (1)]

  [TRADE VALUE: 15.8 CANS]

  Kenji smirked. “You get twelve cans. That’s your deal. Take it or leave it.”

  They hesitated only a second before agreeing. They were starving.

  Moments later, cans slid from the dispenser:

  ? Kenji’s Half-Truth Ham Chowder?

  ? Kenji’s Volcanic Ramen Packet?

  ? Kenji’s Undead-Free Tuna Melt?

  The traders devoured them shamelessly. One cried.

  Lira tilted her head. “Still squeezing profit even from starving folks.”

  Kenji shook his head. “It’s just business. Nothing special.”

  As they left, the system chimed.

  [CORE ENERGY STATUS: 68% REMAINING]

  [ESTIMATED WEEKLY DRAIN: 4%]

  Kenji watched the scavenger drone vanish into the storm on its first long-range assignment. More salvage. More biomass.

  He scratched his belly.

  “Drones don’t sleep. Drones don’t complain. This is the future.”

  Echoes in the Snow

  The wind howled harder that night. Not the usual icy moan, but something with teeth behind it—something sharp and erratic. The kind of wind that carried more than just snow.

  Kenji leaned over the console as the new motion sensors lit up one after another.

  [PERIMETER DETECTION – SECTOR 4 – UNIDENTIFIED MOVEMENT]

  [MULTIPLE SIGNATURES – INTERMITTENT]

  [PROBABLE THREAT LEVEL: MODERATE TO HIGH]

  The guard drone at the front hatch clicked to full alert. Its stun emitter hissed with a soft blue glow.

  Kenji didn’t panic. He tapped a key and brought the Shack’s turret online.

  [TURRET LOCK STATUS – ARMED AND READY]

  [RANGE LIMITATION: 25 METERS – TRUCK PERIMETER ONLY]

  He narrowed his eyes. “So we’re not being stalked. We’re being scouted.”

  Lira stood beside him, arms crossed. “You think it’s monsters?”

  “No,” Kenji muttered. “Too deliberate. Monsters don’t pace. They charge.”

  Elyra, perched silently near the rear of the Shack, sharpened a blade. “Could be rogue scav teams. Some out here don’t like competition.”

  Kenji nodded. “Or they heard about the core.”

  He stared at the glowing Crimson Orb above the Shack. It pulsed gently, casting eerie red shadows across the ice.

  [SYSTEM NOTICE – CRIMSON CORE ENERGY PULSE DETECTED BY EXTERNAL FORCES]

  [RECOMMENDATION: PREPARE FOR HOSTILE INTEREST]

  Kenji grunted. “Of course they noticed.”

  The builder drone clicked into standby, its tools locked in place. The scavenger drone was still out in the field, transmitting low-band signals as it mapped old wreck zones.

  Kenji rubbed his temple. “We need more defenses. More power. More eyes.”

  He tapped open the drone bay controls.

  [SLOT STATUS – ALL DRONES ACTIVE]

  [CRAFTING QUEUE: EMPTY]

  “Fine,” he muttered. “System—log future upgrades. I want better drones, longer-range sensors, more turrets, and perimeter deterrents.”

  [REQUEST LOGGED. CURRENT ENERGY LEVEL: 64%]

  [NEXT CRYSTAL INFUSION RECOMMENDED IN 3 DAYS OR LESS]

  Kenji stood, cracking his back. “Let them come. I’ll feed them to the recycler.”

  Outside, the snow swirled harder—driven not just by weather, but something darker on the wind.

  Kenji didn’t care.

  This was his Shack.

  And now it had teeth

  The Pod in the Snow

  It arrived at dawn.

  Not with a bang, but with a soft pop, like reality sneezed.

  Kenji almost ignored it. That was, until the turret pinged with a confused tone.

  [ANOMALOUS OBJECT DETECTED – NON-HOSTILE – IMPACT VELOCITY: ZERO]

  He leaned forward and squinted at the sensor log. “Zero velocity?”

  Outside, nestled in a freshly formed crater of snow, something gleamed. Oval-shaped. Metallic. Just… there.

  Kenji sighed, grabbed his coat, and muttered, “Every time I think I’ll get a day off.”

  He trudged through the snow with one guard drone in tow. The object didn’t radiate heat, but it shimmered with the unmistakable glow of divine trolling. Smooth obsidian, faintly pulsing, runes etched across the sides in a language that somehow spelled sarcasm.

  The system chimed as he got close:

  [OBJECT IDENTIFIED: KENJI’S MINION SPAWNER?]

  [DIVINE DELIVERY: CONGRATS, FATTY. NOW YOU CAN GROW A PERSONAL MILITARY.]

  [NOTE: LOYALTY GUARANTEED. SOULS MAY VARY.]

  Kenji muttered, “I should’ve asked for a damn foot massage instead.”

  The capsule hissed open with a puff of pressurized steam. Inside, a chamber lined with nanite injectors, neural override coils, and something that looked alarmingly like a salad spinner for humans.

  [FUNCTION: CREATES ASTARION-CLASS SUPERSOLDIERS]

  [REQUIREMENTS: ADULT HUMAN MALE – COMPATIBILITY CHANCE: 1 IN 100]

  [RESULT: MEMORY WIPE, OBEDIENCE LOCK, ABSOLUTE DEVOTION]

  [WARNING: NO REFUNDS. DO NOT MICROWAVE.]

  Kenji squinted at the word “Astarion.”

  “Really? Not Astartes?” he muttered. “Since when do the gods worry about copyright?”

  [GODS’ COMMENTARY MUTED DUE TO LEGAL PRECAUTIONS.]

  Right near the bottom, stenciled in crude divine script, it read:

  “Powered by pure disappointment and beef.”

  He exhaled. “Of course it is.”

  Back at the Shack, Kenji updated the system log while sipping Kenji’s Warm Regret Soup?.

  [NEW ITEM ACQUIRED: KENJI’S MINION SPAWNER?]

  [POTENTIAL USES: SLAVE MARKET SCOUTING, TERMINAL PATIENT COLLECTION, CORPSE RECYCLING (FRESH ONLY)]

  [COMPATIBLE ONLY WITH USER AUTHORIZATION – BECAUSE TRUST ISSUES.]

  Lira peeked over his shoulder. “Is that… a person blender?”

  Kenji shrugged. “More like a loyalty oven.”

  Elyra leaned in. “You really gonna use it?”

  Kenji took another sip. “Already thinking of a test subject.”

  That evening, as the snow howled outside, Kenji pulled up a roster of nearby mercenary tags.

  One entry flashed red—status: critical. A dying merc who got caught in a salvage collapse. Breathing, but barely. No next of kin. No insurance tags.

  Kenji looked at the Spawner.

  First of Many

  The Kenji’s Minion Spawner? rumbled like a beast dreaming of war.

  Kenji stood before it, arms crossed, sipping Kenji’s Mood Stabilizer Soup? as a drone hauled in the limp body of a barely alive mercenary. The man had been found half-buried under collapsed debris, crushed chest, leaking from several orifices, and barely conscious. But the system had flagged him as “viable.”

  [SUBJECT: MALE – FULLY GROWN – STATUS: TERMINAL]

  [COMPATIBILITY RATE: 98.7% – IDEAL FOR ASCENSION]

  [CONVERSION STRONGLY RECOMMENDED. ALSO, HE’S GONNA DIE.]

  Kenji looked down at the bloodied, unconscious form.

  “Well,” he muttered, “he’s dying anyway.”

  With a nod, the drone lowered the man into the open capsule. The Spawner sealed tight with a loud CHUNK, and a deep hum began to vibrate through the Shack’s walls.

  [ENERGY COST: HIGH – CRIMSON CORE DRAIN DETECTED – STABILITY 71%]

  [BIOMASS REQUIRED: 2–3 CRATES MINIMUM]

  [ESTIMATED COMPLETION TIME: APPROX. 4–6 HOURS]

  The Crimson Core, now orbiting slowly above the Shack, dimmed slightly—energy visibly siphoned into the pod as the internal nanoforges, spinal implants, and loyalty-conditioning subroutines kicked into gear.

  Kenji walked off without ceremony.

  Six hours later…

  The pod let out a loud hiss, steam curling from the sides like breath from some mechanical god. Then it slowly opened.

  What emerged looked nothing like the broken mercenary that had been tossed in hours earlier.

  This was something new.

  Towering at nearly seven feet, the supersoldier’s physique was biologically impossible by natural standards—barrel-chested, thick-armed, and streamlined like a sculpted predator. His skin was a deep gray-tan hybrid tone, his eyes glowed faintly with embedded combat-vision HUD overlays, and there wasn’t a single visible scar. Every inch of him was lean, hardened, and symmetrical.

  He stepped forward from the pod’s mist, then dropped to one knee before Kenji.

  “Awaiting orders, Master.”

  [CONVERSION COMPLETE]

  [UNIT DESIGNATION: ASTARION-001]

  [RANDOMIZED NAME INITIATED BY DIVINE AUTHORITY…]

  [FINAL NAME: FLANKSTEAK VENGEANCE?]

  Kenji squinted. “…Nope.”

  [NAME LOCKED. GODS DO NOT ACCEPT CRITICISM.]

  [FULL UNIT REPORT – FLANKSTEAK VENGEANCE?]

  BIOLOGICAL SPECIFICATIONS

  ? Height: 208 cm

  ? Weight: ~140 kg (muscle-dense frame)

  ? Strength Output: 7.2x baseline human

  ? Speed / Reflexes: 3.4x baseline human

  ? Endurance: 5x baseline – capable of sustained activity for up to 72 hours

  ? Bone Density: Reinforced with synthetic calcium-laced ceramic mesh

  ? Skin Durability: Resistant to cold, high-pressure, and small-caliber projectiles

  ? Healing Factor: Moderate regenerative capability (non-fatal injuries only)

  ? Internal Structure: Rewired nervous system for combat optimization

  ? Neural Jacks: Integrated for direct drone coordination, system interface access

  MENTAL CONDITIONING

  ? Memory Status: Fully wiped – all prior personality, memories, trauma erased

  ? Loyalty Status: Absolute – cannot disobey Kenji or harm him

  ? Emotional Range: Limited to pride, satisfaction in service, and contentment near Kenji

  ? Fear Response: Suppressed

  ? Pain Response: Blunted – high tolerance

  ? Decision Protocols: Defensive, follow mission priority, protect Kenji at all costs

  COMBAT SPECIALIZATION

  ? Close-Quarters Combat (CQC): Expert

  ? Ranged Firearms: Advanced proficiency

  ? Heavy Weapons: Capable of wielding high-recoil, large-frame gear

  ? Tactics: Basic – follows orders over autonomous decision-making

  ? Equipment Slots: Modular armor integration (upgradable), utility belts, weapon mount ports

  [NOTE: MAY SERVE AS COMMAND NODE FOR OTHER UNITS WHEN PROMOTED]

  Kenji stared at the screen, then glanced back at the man-mountain standing before him.

  “System,” he muttered, “why does his emotional range include contentment near me?”

  [GODS THOUGHT IT WOULD BE FUNNY.]

  “Of course they did…”

  [FUN FACT: THIS UNIT WOULD KILL AND DIE FOR YOU WITH A SMILE. ENJOY.]

  Elyra whistled. “So… are we just going to pretend you didn’t make a loyal murder machine with a dumb name?”

  Kenji groaned. “I didn’t name him. Blame the gods.”

  [UPCOMING NAME OPTIONS IN ROTATION: BEEF CADET?, WRATHFUL PANCAKE?, COMMANDER SLAB?, and THE OBEDIENCE PACKAGE?]

  Kenji sighed and walked away, already drafting a checklist of who he might “accidentally” convert next.

  Flanksteak Vengeance? stood silently, back straight, ready to kill—or make toast—at Kenji’s command.

  Drones, Debt, and Divine Decisions

  Kenji stood before the console, the warm red light of the Crimson Core bathing the room in its quiet hum. He rubbed his temples, reviewing the energy expenditures. The pod alone had shaved off a sizable chunk of his power reserve. One supersoldier, even with the gods’ divine discount on conversion, was expensive as hell to maintain.

  “Note to self,” he muttered. “Don’t grow an army unless you’re planning to feed it.”

  He scrolled through his available recycled materials. Armor plating? Short. Energy cells? Low. Nutrient slurry packs? Barely enough for a week.

  And that was just for Flanksteak Vengeance?, who now loomed silently outside the Shack, sharpening a blade he likely crafted from rebar and a food crate. The man ate like a small beast. One supersoldier consumed more in a day than all four of Kenji’s current slaves combined. Even his name—randomly generated by the gods—was absurdly tattooed across his right pectoral in bold gothic script the moment he emerged from the conversion pod.

  Creating another soldier would require:

  ? A compatible adult male (1 in 100 chance)

  ? Full neural wipe and reconditioning

  ? Power usage equal to 4 drones

  ? Resources for clothing, gear, and armor

  ? A place to sleep that wasn’t the biomass chute

  ? Enough food to sustain a biological tank with legs

  In short, no more soldiers unless absolutely necessary.

  Kenji turned to the Drone Bay. Now that was an investment.

  Each drone required minimal upkeep, drew from the recycler queue, and could be adapted as needed. Salvager. Builder. Scout. Guard. And each one had fewer opinions than a supersoldier.

  [CURRENT ACTIVE DRONES: 3/5 (LIMIT PER UPGRADE TIER)]

  [AVAILABLE DRONE ROLES: SALVAGER (1), GUARD (1), BUILDER (1)]

  [NOTE: NEW DRONES CAN BE MODIFIED BASED ON MODULES INSTALLED]

  The Drone Hive path had officially begun.

  Kenji leaned back in his chair, feet propped up, sipping a steaming can of Kenji’s Caffeinated Meat Broth?. The taste was questionable. The buzz was undeniable.

  “System,” he said, eyeing the console, “what’s our current inventory status?”

  [INVENTORY REPORT]

  Slaves: 4 (Lira, Elyra, Saeko, Mirelle)

  Supersoldiers: 1 (Flanksteak Vengeance?)

  Auto-Turrets: 1 (Divine-Class, Close-Range Annihilation)

  Deployed Drones: 3 (Salvager, Guard, Builder)

  Biomass Reserve: 41.8 Cans Worth

  Power Reserve: 73% Crimson Core Capacity

  Crimson Core Effect Radius: 100 meters

  Healing/Recovery Aura: Active

  Trade Reputation: Surface Ghost / Shack of Legends

  Kenji cracked his neck.

  “Not bad for a grumpy food vendor in hell.”

  The Shack rumbled softly as the perimeter stabilizers kicked in, new hardlight fence posts slowly forming a faint outline in the snow. A proper zone. A start of something real.

  End of chapter.