Jin-woo and Graq went over every room again. Everything below the fifteenth floor. He left everything that seemed worthless to him in their respective areas, having not solidified a plan. Now, those extra small metal and leather armors had purpose. The daggers, swords, and small throwing axes could be used by someone else. They were no longer liable to injure their user before harming the enemy.

  They methodically moved and sorted through all the scavenged equipment. Laying each piece on the floor of their safe room. A medieval weapons cache that could fit a tiny army. A very tiny army.

  Graq observed the pieces one by one, flipping them over. Looking at stitching, welding, and other things that Jin-woo did not understand. The Ratkin didn’t have a system nor a BasicAnalysis skill that made the whole process much easier. Instead, he had to manually check weaknesses and potential areas of damage.

  Jin-woo counted his blessings. There was a lot to complain about, but equally as many things to be happy for. Such as the physical body he carried now, carved out of mountain stone. With a bunch of superior functions. Mental and otherwise.

  "These should fit," Jin-woo held up leather leg armor that were Graq’s size. They fit the overall look of the other pieces they located. Dark brown and hard to the touch.

  “Such high quality,” Graq took, the last piece, the leather armor from Jin-woo. Laying it out with the rest of the set they gathered for him. The chest piece was a slightly lighter shade, lower quality, but it was the best option available. “I need a robe.”

  “A robe?”

  “Yes. A robe,” Graq got up. He began to search the massive rolls of clothes they had sitting on the other side of the room. It took him a while until he found two that fit him. One an average brown robe that reached down just above his ankles. The other split open at the waist, a folding design at the chest the major reason he grabbed it. Piece by piece, he put everything on. Baggy pants and shirt first. Leather armor over them, and the robes finished it all.

  The set gave him a larger frame.

  Gone was the bedraggled, scrawny, defeated scholar Jin-woo met in the dungeon. Replacing it was a warrior, scholar warrior. Form filled with belied strength rather than weakness. Including the shower he had already taken, it made him look regal. Cleaning him up. Revealing white and gray fur at the top of his head. It faded into black fur past his ears and down past the robes.

  Jin-woo had tried to convince Graq to wear a helmet, but he refused loudly. It seemed like an insult of some kind. Graq was quick to forgive considering the unfamiliarity between their cultures.

  Next came the weapons. The largest surgical blade in Jin-woo’s arsenal had become the main weapon. It was sharp enough to cut through thick metal without any difficulty. It glistened with promised violence in the hospital’s gloom.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Jin-woo knew exactly how dangerous they were, even more so when they fit perfectly in Graq’s tiny palms. A small dagger rather than the toothpick it had been in his palms. A sword was strapped with his side, an emergency weapon. And lastly, a buckler on the left forearm for defence.

  Jin-woo’s stomach rumbled loudly, like distant thunder. Graq’s responded, not quite as loud.

  They both turned to look at the massive stack of boxes they knew carried an endless supply of military-grade biscuits. Endless to them at least. Neither one wanted to crunch on the hard, tasteless blocks of nutrition. Jin-woo’s renditions for Graq had not been kind in the least.

  “Not exactly a feast,” Jin-woo grabbed a pack for himself and threw one to Graq. The Ratkin fumbled and dropped it, swiftly picking it up. His tail swished back and forth as he attempted to hide his embarrassment. “But it will do until we forage the forest.”

  Graq opened his own pack. He pulled one out, five in each, and gave it a few sniffs. “In times of scarcity, stones taste sweet.”

  The biscuits betrayed their expectations with brutal efficiency. One bite revealed a texture reminiscent of compressed sawdust, devoid of anything that hinted at flavor. Jin-woo’s enhanced senses were usually an advantage for him in combat. Now, he regretted every second of it as he processed every nuance of the processed horror.

  Beside him, Graq’s whiskers drooped as he chewed. Smacking his lips with every bite at the dry rations. Each crunch grew more labored.

  “Water,” Dignity abandoned him entirely. He ran back towards their only source of water: the bathroom sink.

  Jin-woo followed. Both taking massive gulps of cold water from a sink that seemed to break multiple natural laws and physics. It produced clean, cold water multiple stories up the abandoned hospital despite the lack of pipes. Not including the state of decay everything else was in.

  Neither questioned this miracle. Jin-woo only filed it into his ever growing list of anomalies and notes.

  Jin-woo had enough. “We need real food!”

  “But, that’s all we have.”

  “I know where to get some,” He moved quickly. Back towards the dungeon entrance. Graq followed quietly, willing to see the thought process that may lead to edible food. Edible and tasty. A very important combo they both learned.

  Directly opposite of the dungeon portal were the destroyed double doors to the outside world. A warehouse entrance supposedly. It exposed a vast forest of overgrown greens, roots, bushes, trees, and a plethora of other things he couldn’t quickly identify on the ground.

  They pressed against an invisible wall, creating a clearing around the hospital.

  Graq’s nose twitched rapidly. “I don’t suggest going out there.”

  “Don’t worry,” Jin-woo said. His eyes were locked on a single fruit laden tree not even fifty paces away. Said fruit looked thick with juice. He could already imagine taking a massive bite into it. Drooling, he continued. “Quick. Grab and return. Simple.” The words sounded hollow even to him, but they were desperate.

  Graq gulped.

  Jin-woo tip toed until the edge of the clearing. Grass grew on the other side, twisted by weeds and roots. His mind began to work as he cataloged every avenue a potential threat could attack from. The giant rats had been (F-) ranked. The bottom of a half-baked system he couldn’t figure out.

  What type of creatures warranted an E rank? D rank? How far did it go up?

  [THREAT ASSESSMENT INITIATED]

  [KNOWN HOSTILE TYPES: Insufficient Data]

  [SURVIVAL PROBABILITY: Calculating…]

  [WARNING: Too Many Unknown Variables]

  [...]

  A surge of notifications gave him no real answer. But he was determined.

  The plan was simple. Run to the tree. Climb said tree. Grab juicy fruit into the shirt. Climb down the tree. And finally, run back. Easy.

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