My back hurts and my balls are empty.
He lay inside the cramped sleeping pod of his truck—Kenji’s Post-Apoc Snack Shack?—legs tangled in heated blankets, body sore from… satisfying work. The built-in heating system hummed softly, keeping the interior toasty despite the raging frozen deathworld outside.
The pod smelled faintly of sweat, perfume, and something far less innocent. Two of his slaves—Mirelle and Elyra—had taken turns last night. Mirelle had been all purring seduction and clever hands; Elyra was more primal, aggressive in the way beastkin women often were. They’d even double-teamed him for a bit. Friendly competition, they claimed.
Kenji hadn’t complained. He was still catching his breath.
They’d left quietly before dawn, slipping out of the sleeping pod like obedient little lovers returning to their assigned mats in the main cabin.
And now, as always… the door creaked open again.
A soft figure climbed in beside him.
Lira.
She said nothing—just pressed her warm, petite frame against his side and sighed, long and slow, like this was the only place in the world she could breathe.
Kenji didn’t move. He just stared at the ceiling.
“Cuddling only,” he muttered.
“I know.” Her voice was a whisper, her fingers clutching the blanket. “I just like being next to you…”
He grunted. It was weird. She was mature in body, sure. But emotionally? Still a kid. Still jealous of the others. Still acting like she had something to prove.
But she was loyal. Obsessively loyal. He could tolerate the cuddles.
So he threw the blanket over her and closed his eyes again.
Five more minutes, he told himself. Then I’ll get up and pretend I care.
Ten minutes later, he was bundled in his coat, kicking the frozen side hatch open.
The cold slapped him in the face like a pissed-off god.
“Stupid truck,” he muttered. “Stupid frozen wasteland. I was promised paradise.”
The Shack sat like a black box on the white horizon, half-buried in snow, steam rising faintly from the system’s thermal vents. The Crimson Core floated just above the truck now, pulsing red like an evil sunlamp. Its warmth kept the Shack from freezing over completely—and probably kept Kenji’s organs from turning into popsicles.
Out front, right where he’d left him, stood Flanksteak Vengeance?.
No armor. No shirt. Just pants, boots, and enough muscle to scare a demon back underground.
He wasn’t doing anything. Just standing there.
Breathing foglessly. Staring into nothing.
Waiting.
Two traders approaching the truck from the snowy ridge froze at the sight of him.
“…Is that a mutant?” one whispered.
“I think it’s alive,” the other muttered.
Kenji trudged through the snow, annoyed, half-awake, and already regretting being conscious.
“Don’t mind the freak,” he said casually, stepping between them. “He works for me.”
The traders backed up, visibly shaken.
Kenji smirked.
Good. Let ‘em know who runs this frozen dump
Shack Management
Kenji kicked snow off his boots and stomped into the Shack, grumbling under his breath as the hatch sealed shut behind him with a mechanical hiss. The internal heat rolled across his face like a warm towel—one of the few decent things in this gods-forsaken wasteland.
“System,” he grunted. “Status.”
The wall console lit up with its usual blue glow.
[Kenji’s Shack System – Operational]
? Crimson Core Energy: 82%
? Drone Hive: Active – 18 units deployed
? Modules: Auto-Turret (x1), Resource Recycler, Storage Compartment Alpha
? Biomass Reserve: 17.2 Units
? Defense Perimeter Status: Stable
? Notable Alert: Increased demonic energy signatures detected in Region Grid 7-C
Note: Your continued survival amuses the gods.
Kenji narrowed his eyes. “Region Grid 7-C? That’s near yesterday’s salvage pit… which means something’s sniffing around my junk.”
He turned just in time to see Saeko crouched beside the recycler, sorting scrap like a wild-haired logistics gremlin. Her red beastkin tail twitched as she worked, flicking back and forth with irritation.
“Morning, Master,” she said, not looking up. “Recycler’s backed up. Storage’s nearly full. You either install another node or we start purging the low-value stuff.”
Kenji groaned. “Again?”
“You told me to bring in everything that wasn’t frozen solid. I did.”
He rubbed his face and sighed.
[System Note: Storage Modules]
Storage modules—also called storage nodes—expand the Shack’s internal capacity. The system uses them to sort and manage biomass, tech parts, salvage, and food. If no room is available, new materials are auto-recycled or dumped.
[System Note: Modules]
Modules are system add-ons that grant new capabilities to the Shack—like defense turrets, recyclers, storage, or drones. They consume energy from the Crimson Core and can be unlocked through upgrades or crafted with resources.
Kenji tapped the screen and brought up the crafting tab.
[Storage Node - Build Requirements:]
? 5 Units Refined Scrap
? 1 Power Cell
? 1 Available Builder Drone
? [Time to Completion: 6 minutes]
[System Note: Module Crafting]
Once unlocked, most modules can be crafted using salvaged materials. The Shack’s system handles all construction via drones—Kenji just provides the junk and presses the button.
Kenji grunted. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll build one. Eventually.”
Before Saeko could comment, the Shack’s front sensor pinged—someone had stepped inside the detection radius.
“We’ve got company~” Mirelle called out from the front console, her voice laced with syrupy amusement.
Kenji shuffled over and glanced at the live feed. Two traders had arrived, dragging a barely-functioning hover sled stacked with salvage. One kept glancing over his shoulder—Flanksteak stood nearby like a shirtless statue of war, unmoving, unblinking, and undeniably terrifying.
Kenji smirked and hit the intercom.
“If you’re here to trade, approach the hatch. If not, keep walking before my doorman gets curious.”
The traders hesitated, then cautiously stepped forward.
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Mirelle stood up and stretched with an exaggerated sigh.
“I’ll handle them,” she said, already smoothing out her dress. “Want me to sweeten the deal or scare them off?”
“Both,” Kenji muttered. “Make ‘em grateful and terrified.”
The Trade Deal
The Shack’s front hatch hissed open, releasing a wave of canned-food-scented warmth into the white frozen hellscape beyond.
Mirelle stepped out first, her breath forming delicate fog as she strutted confidently across the snow. Her coat was stylish but practical, swaying with each step. The wind whipped around her, but she moved like she owned the cold.
Behind her, Flanksteak Vengeance? stood guard.
Seven feet tall. Bare-chested. Barely human.
He didn’t flinch as the wind howled around him. Frost clung to his muscles like decoration, but he showed no discomfort. No fog escaped his lips. No shiver. No breath. Just stillness.
He hadn’t moved for hours. He hadn’t needed to.
Kenji had given him only one command the day he was created:
“Protect the Shack.”
And he obeyed. Unquestioning. Unblinking. A human-shaped monolith powered by loyalty and muscle.
Two traders cautiously approached the Shack’s perimeter, dragging a broken hover sled behind them. One of them stopped mid-step, eyes fixed on Flanksteak’s bare chest.
“Is he… not cold?” the man whispered.
“Is he breathing?” the other muttered.
Inside the Shack, Kenji sat slouched in his padded command chair, sipping something lukewarm from a cup labeled “Kenji’s Choco-Crack?.”
Lira was sitting sideways across his lap, arms folded, cheek against his shoulder. Her long legs dangled slightly, brushing his knees. She stared at the screen with narrowed eyes, fuming silently as Mirelle gave the approaching traders a honey-sweet smile.
Kenji, however, shifted a little in his seat.
Something was definitely pressing against Lira’s thigh.
She didn’t seem to care.
Didn’t even blink.
Kenji cleared his throat. “You know, you could sit anywhere else. There’s literally an entire couch behind us.”
“I like this seat,” Lira replied without looking at him. She leaned her head more into his chest, completely ignoring the obvious bulge beneath her. “It’s warm.”
Kenji grunted. “Yeah, that’s part of the problem.”
“I’m not scared of it,” she said casually.
“That’s also part of the problem.”
But he didn’t push her off. He never did. He just sipped his drink and watched the screen, pretending she wasn’t perched like a possessive cat on top of him.
Outside, Mirelle inspected the sled’s cargo: a cracked solar lens pack, some fried circuitry, and a freshly killed mutant beast carcass that still oozed steaming blue blood.
She smiled at the traders. “You boys came prepared.”
One of them kept glancing back at Flanksteak, who hadn’t moved an inch.
“System,” Mirelle said aloud, flicking her hair over her shoulder.
Inside, Kenji tapped the console.
[Trade Value Analysis:]
? Hover Sled Parts: 2 units refined scrap
? Battery Core (partial): 0.5 biomass
? Solar Lenses: Cracked – 1 unit glass composite
? Mutant Beast Meat: High-fat yield – 4 biomass
Total Value: 5.5 Biomass
Suggested Exchange Rate: 8 cans (basic-tier meals)
He pressed confirm.
A hatch opened on the Shack’s outer wall, releasing a tray with a sealed crate of canned meals. Each can came branded with ridiculous divine labels like “Kenji’s Crackin’ Chili Delight” and “Tundra Tuna Temptation?.”
The traders moved to grab it—but hesitated.
One turned toward Mirelle, nodding at the silent monster behind her. “Can… can he move?”
Mirelle smiled sweetly. “Only if Master tells him to. Or if someone does something very stupid.”
The man swallowed hard.
They took the crate and began loading it onto their sled as fast as humanly possible.
“What is he?” one of them whispered.
Mirelle leaned in close, her voice honey-slick. “He’s what happens when Master decides someone’s more useful as a weapon than a man.”
They didn’t stick around for small talk.
Back inside, Lira pouted.
“Why do you let her talk like that?”
Kenji didn’t even look at her. “Because it works. And I’m not going out there.”
“I could do it too.”
“You’re not allowed to flirt until you’re thirty.”
“I’m fourteen!”
“Exactly.”
She grumbled under her breath, then leaned tighter against him, resting her head on his shoulder again. Her fingers casually traced the edge of his coat sleeve.
“Stupid Mirelle…” she muttered.
Kenji smirked to himself. He didn’t say it out loud, but the jealousy? The clinginess?
Yeah… it was almost cute.
Almost
Supersoldier Field Test
Later that afternoon, the cold wind picked up again, and the sky shifted into a bruised gray. Snow danced in slow spirals—almost peaceful if you ignored the howling demons hiding in it.
Inside the Shack, Kenji leaned back in his chair with a sigh. His lap was finally Lira-free, though not by choice—she’d gone to sulk in the corner after another snarky comment about her “sitting rights.”
He scrolled through the latest drone reports. The scavengers had located something interesting beneath the ice near a buried structure. Not just metal scrap—an old pre-collapse generator and thermal battery packs. High-value salvage.
“Saeko, Elyra—gear up,” Kenji called. “You’re going out.”
Saeko stood from the workbench and snapped a small case shut. “Route loaded. Area’s marked as unstable. We’ll need protection.”
Elyra stretched her arms, her tail flicking behind her. “Something big out there?”
“Could be nothing,” Kenji said. “Could be something that eats drones.” He smirked. “Take the meathead.”
Flanksteak, still standing at the Shack’s front like a permanent monument to intimidation, finally received his second directive since creation.
Kenji glanced at him through the open hatch. “Escort the recovery team. Eliminate threats.”
That was all he needed.
Without a word, Flanksteak stepped forward.
No hesitation. No reaction. Just obedience.
Mirelle peeked over her shoulder from the comms. “Think he’ll scare the snowbeasts away before he has to do anything?”
Kenji grinned. “I hope not. I want to see what I paid for.”
[30 Minutes Later – Field Location: Ice Ridge Ruins]
The drones were already digging when the group arrived—three builder units clearing snow while a pair of scavengers scanned the wreckage of what looked like a collapsed transport garage.
Elyra kept her eyes on the perimeter. Saeko was already analyzing power readings with her handheld scanner.
“We’ve got thermal residue under the south pile. Looks like a buried capacitor.”
Flanksteak said nothing.
He just stood beside them, unmoving, scanning the terrain.
Until something moved.
The ice cracked.
Elyra turned just in time to see it—a snowbeast, easily twelve feet tall, bursting from beneath the ground in a spray of frozen earth and claws. It roared, spitting steam, eyes glowing red.
The drones immediately scattered.
Saeko reached for her sidearm.
“Back!” Elyra shouted. “Fall ba—”
Flanksteak moved.
Not quickly.
Instantly.
He stepped between the women and the beast like a living wall, one hand raised.
The beast leapt—claws extended.
Flanksteak caught it mid-air by the throat.
One-handed.
The thing thrashed, screeched, tried to bite down—but Flanksteak didn’t flinch. With a cold, mechanical squeeze, he crushed its windpipe, then slammed its body into the ice with a brutal crack.
It didn’t move again.
Saeko blinked. “…That’s new.”
Elyra slowly lowered her weapon. “I think I’m in love.”
Back at the Shack, Kenji watched the feed from a drone camera, chewing on a ration bar.
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” he muttered with a grin.
Lira leaned in behind him.
“He really killed it that fast?”
Kenji tilted his head. “Wanna sit on my lap and watch the replay?”
She blushed, scowled, and stormed off again.
Salvage and Expansion
The drone convoy returned just before sunset, engines humming low as they rolled through the snow with crates stacked high. Steam hissed from the Shack’s front bay doors as they slid open to receive the payload.
Inside, Kenji was already at the terminal, mug in hand, monitoring the return in real time. A live inventory feed blinked into view:
[Resource Intake: Drone Recovery Summary]
? 1x Pre-Collapse Generator (Stable Condition)
? 2x Thermal Battery Packs
? 14 Units Refined Scrap
? 1 Unit Reinforced Alloy Plating
? Organic Biomass: 3.7 (Snowbeast Corpse)
System Note: Recommend processing mutant corpse within 12 hours for max biomass extraction.
Kenji grinned. “That’s what I like to see—loot, meat, and future upgrades.”
He leaned back just as Saeko walked in, her coat dusted with snow and a thick data pad in hand.
“Processing started,” she reported. “Builder drones are unloading now. Flanksteak’s on standby.” She paused. “No injuries.”
“Of course there aren’t,” Kenji said. “I don’t hire meatbags to fight. That’s what the monster’s for.”
Saeko smirked faintly and dropped the pad on the table. “Generator’s old military tech. Might be worth integrating.”
Kenji tapped the screen beside him.
[System Notice: Module Upgrade Available]
New Tech Detected: Mobile Thermal Generator Unit (MTGU)
? Effect: Increases Shack temperature range and energy recycling efficiency
? Power Cost: +2 Core Energy
? Resource Requirement: 10 Scrap, 1 Thermal Battery, 1 Builder Drone
He scrolled down and eyed the upgrade menu—still limited due to his current evolution level, but starting to branch wider with every crate that came in.
[Upgrade Options Currently Unlocked:]
? Storage Compartment Beta (additional storage node)
? Drone Charging Hub (extends drone deployment limits)
? Perimeter Motion Grid (early warning system)
? Mobile Thermal Generator Unit (temp/efficiency booster)
Kenji scratched his chin.
“Huh… heat boost or more drone power…”
Behind him, Elyra entered, stretching like a cat and yawning. Her tail flicked lazily behind her.
“If you want my vote, go for the drone hub. We’re outgrowing the old limits already.”
Saeko raised an eyebrow. “Efficiency boost would stretch biomass longer. Fewer trips.”
“I don’t recall asking either of you,” Kenji said.
Both girls fell quiet immediately.
He liked that.
Still, they had a point.
Kenji opened both module blueprints, ran the math, and grumbled to himself.
“Screw it. I’ll build both. Slowly. If I’m gonna play landlord of the apocalypse, I need room and power.”
He slammed the confirm button for the Storage Compartment Beta, assigning a builder drone and pushing another batch of scrap into the recycler.
[System Note: Storage Module Construction Started – ETA: 6 Minutes]
[Builder Drone Assigned: Unit B-7 “Naily”]
Lira, having apparently been eavesdropping from the corner like a ghost, padded over and slid herself back into Kenji’s lap without asking.
He didn’t fight it.
“We’re expanding again?” she asked, head tilted sweetly against his shoulder.
“Yup.”
“Does that mean more people will come here?”
“Probably.”
She frowned. “I don’t like that.”
Kenji smirked.
Nightfall and the Pulse
By the time the new storage module finished construction, the sun—or whatever passed for a sun in this frozen world—had dipped beneath the jagged horizon. The temperature dropped fast, even with the Shack’s external heaters humming at full power.
Inside, things were quiet.
Kenji sat at the table, surrounded by food wrappers, drone schematics, and system messages he was actively ignoring. Saeko and Elyra had returned to their quarters, Mirelle was probably soaking in the tiny wash station, and Lira had passed out curled on the couch, using Kenji’s coat like a blanket.
For the first time in what felt like days, it was peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Then it hit.
The Crimson Core pulsed.
Not a flicker. Not a heartbeat. A throb—a sudden flare of red light that spilled out through the reinforced Shack wall, lighting the interior like a warning beacon. Outside, snow vaporized in a small radius as the air sizzled with unnatural warmth.
Kenji shot up, eyes narrowing.
[System Alert: Core Instability Detected]
? Energy Pulse Level: 3.9
? Residual Demonic Signature: Weak – Scattered Readings Detected
Note: The Crimson Core has entered an active resonance state. Nearby creatures may be drawn to its energy. Recommend enhanced perimeter monitoring.
Kenji muttered under his breath. “Of course. Can’t go one damn night without a warning.”
He flicked the terminal to live perimeter feeds.
Flanksteak was already outside—drawn there the moment the pulse started, standing motionless again, eyes glowing faintly red as the Core’s energy resonated through him. He didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.
Just waited.
A guardian in flesh.
Kenji pulled up the drone map. The region showed faint energy pings—small dots skittering across the outer edges of his perimeter.
They weren’t organized.
They weren’t strong.
But they were coming.
Snowbeasts. Imps. Mutant scavengers.
Drawn like flies to the heat, the light, the life.
Kenji sat back, groaning.
“Guess it’s gonna be one of those nights.”
Lira stirred behind him on the couch, her voice small and sleepy.
“What’s wrong…?”
“Nothing.”
She blinked her eyes open, still groggy. “You sure?”
Kenji cracked his knuckles and brought up the drone control panel.
“Yeah,”
Tight Quarters, Bigger Problems
The Shack had gone quiet again.
Kenji sat in his chair, eyes half-lidded, watching the soft glow of the Crimson Core pulse gently through the Shack’s reinforced view slit. Outside, Flanksteak remained exactly where he had been—unmoving, bare-chested in sub-zero blizzard winds, standing over four dismembered corpses like some silent guardian god of death.
No heat signature. No breath. Just stillness.
Kenji sipped the last of his lukewarm Choco-Crack? and muttered to himself.
“Hell of a night.”
Inside, the cramped walls of the Shack were starting to feel more like a bunker than a base. Drones lined the racks, sleeping slaves occupied every cushion and bench, and crates were stacked two high against the walls.
The once-roomy Shack was bursting at the seams.
He had to sidestep a drone just to reach the terminal earlier, and Mirelle nearly tripped over Lira trying to use the wash corner.
Too many people.
Too much stuff.
Not enough space.
He scrolled the system screen and pulled up the evolution tracker again.
[Crimson Core Saturation: 89%]
Truck Evolution Threshold: Approaching – Estimated Time to Unlock: Soon
Kenji leaned back in his seat and sighed.
“Next upgrade’s gonna need to focus on space. Rooms. Storage. Something that doesn’t smell like wet fur and industrial grease.”
He glanced back at the sleeping quarters—or rather, the piles of blankets and folded tarp mats stacked across the interior. The girls had carved out their own corners as best they could, but even he didn’t feel like he had a proper spot to stretch anymore.
He wasn’t running a truck anymore.
This was becoming a base.
A hive.
And whether he wanted to admit it or not…
He was the center of it.
Kenji’s eyes drifted to the monitor again.
Flanksteak didn’t move.
Didn’t even shift.
The storm outside raged around him, but he remained anchored like a war monument, surrounded by corpses that no longer posed a threat.
Kenji reached up and dimmed the console lights.
“You watch the outside,” he muttered as he settled in. “I’ll handle the inside.”
[End of Chapter 7 – System Report]
Kenji’s Shack – Status Update
Modules Installed:
? Auto-Turret (x1)
? Resource Recycler
? Drone Hive
? Storage Compartment Alpha
? Storage Compartment Beta (NEW)
Upgrades Available:
? Drone Charging Hub
? Perimeter Motion Grid
? Mobile Thermal Generator Unit
Drone Units Active:
? 6 Scavenger
? 4 Builder
? 5 Combat
? 3 Sensor
= 18 Total
Supersoldiers:
? 1 (Flanksteak Vengeance? – Active Guard Mode)
Slaves Present:
? Lira (Admin Assistant – Cuddler)
? Elyra (Combat/Scout)
? Saeko (Logistics)
? Mirelle (Trade Liaison)
Crimson Core Status:
? Energy: 78%
? Recent Pulse: Level 3.9
? Biomass Recovered: +2.8 Units
? Attraction Level: Moderate
? Environmental Conditions: Active Blizzard
? Interior Conditions: Overcrowded
End of Chapter
