After a brief chat with the two large crabs, Hank Fowler left the area.

  Back at the shelter, he was surprised to find a dozen bundles of thatch stacked outside the wooden fence, probably around seventy or eighty pounds worth. Luna Lovelace, no doubt. Combined with the thirty pounds she'd delivered that morning, his debt was officially cleared.

  Hank hauled the bundles over to the hut. "Chow time, Thatchy."

  The Hut's door creaked open wide, practically drooling at the sight of the feast. Hank shoved the bundles in one by one. The Hut munched happily, and once it was finished, it spoke, "Hank, you're too good to me. If I were a woman, I'd marry you, no doubt. Pop out a few little huts for you."

  "You're freaking disgusting," Hank muttered, shooting the hut a glare. "Mute Thatchy for an hour."

  Thatchy: "..."

  Hank entered the hut, opened his Spatial Bag, and dumped the Magnifying Glass, Machete, and entrenching tool unceremoniously onto the floor. Then he unmuted the Machete and entrenching tool.

  "Damn it!" The entrenching tool yelped. "That was way too long."

  "Can you not mute us all the time?" The Machete added. "Ever think about how we feel, Hank?"

  "Maybe if you two didn't run your mouths," Hank retorted, sprawled out on the thatch bed, and opened his status panel.

  Survivalist: Hank Fowler.

  Zone: 10001.

  Level: 4.

  Experience: 50/500.

  Physique:

  Strength: 8+30

  Agility: 10+30

  Defense: 5+30

  Spirit: 11+30

  Talents: Healing, Insight, Space.

  Hank froze. What the hell? Two new talents? Where had those come from? Was this a global thing, or was he special?

  He mulled it over for a second, then opened the chat group. A beat. What the hell? Might as well ask.

  Hank Fowler: Hey, question for you all. Everyone got just the one talent, right?

  Wally Cox: Of course, it's just one. You got two or something?

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Hank Fowler: Nope. Just one.

  Yeah, no way he was admitting to having three. People would think he's some kind of freak. Best to keep a low profile for now.

  Eddie Drumpf: Why do you ask, Hank?

  Hank Fowler: Just curious.

  Sue Lynn: I did hear about someone awakening two talents.

  Charles Strong: Seriously? No way.

  Jeff Johnson: It's true. I heard about it too.

  Stan Strong: What the hell? Why do they get two and we're stuck with one? Talk about unfair!

  Jeff Johnson: You can take it up with the System.

  Stan Strong: Yeah, I think I'll pass.

  Yeah, arguing with the System was a bad idea. Hank silently closed the chat, a thoughtful frown on his face. "Where did these two talents come from, though?"

  Then it hit him. That kiss from Morgan Clearwater. Could that be it? He couldn't be sure, but it didn't matter. The talents were real, and that's all that counted.

  So, what could these new talents do? Hank's gaze flickered to the Insight talent.

  Suddenly, information flooded his mind.

  [Insight: Support talent. Upon locking onto a target, information about the target will appear in your mind.]

  "Holy crap, that's useful," Hank muttered, his eyes shifting to the thatch hut.

  Target: Thatchy.

  Level: 1.

  Evolution Progress: 30%.

  Attack: 0.

  Defense: 15.

  Spirit: 10.

  Talents: Crafting, Shapeshift.

  Huh. He'd figured the hut was just for keeping out the wind and rain. Turns out, it had a decent defense stat. If he leveled it up a few times, maybe it could become a proper fortress. And it had talents? Two, no less. Crafting made sense – making thatch mats and beds and whatnot. But Shapeshift? What was that about?

  "Hey, Thatchy," Hank called out. "What's this Shapeshift talent of yours do?"

  Thatchy: "..."

  Hank frowned. "What, are you mute now? Spit it out."

  Still no response.

  "Shit." Hank cursed.

  "Uh, boss," the entrenching tool piped up. "Didn't you, like, mute it?"

  Right. He had muted the hut for an hour. Hank cleared his throat. "Unmute Thatchy."

  "Hank, how could you treat me like that? I'm so disappointed!" Thatchy whined.

  "Because you were being a pain in the ass," Hank said, getting back to the point. "So, about that Shapeshift talent..."

  "It's simple," Thatchy explained. "I can change into different shapes, like a bungalow, a two-story house, a bunker, a villa, a castle... stuff like that. But I'm too low level right now. Can't do any of that yet."

  "Got it." Hank nodded.

  A bit of a niche talent, but not totally useless. I mean, who wouldn't want to live in a villa instead of a thatch hut?

  Next, Hank turned his attention to the entrenching tool, activating Insight.

  Target: The entrenching tool.

  Level: 1.

  Evolution Progress: 5%.

  Attack: 15.

  Defense: 25.

  Spirit: 10.

  Talent: Toughness.

  "Not bad," Hank commented. He shifted his gaze to the Machete.

  Target: The Machete.

  Level: 1.

  Evolution Progress: 10%.

  Attack: 40.

  Defense: 20.

  Spirit: 10.

  Talent: Sharpness.

  "Damn, that's some serious attack power," Hank whistled.

  The Machete was only level 1, but its attack was almost on par with his own as a level 4 player. Plus, it had the Sharpness talent. This thing had potential. He'd have to focus on training it up.

  Finally, Hank looked at the frying pan.

  Target: Frying Pan.

  Level: 1.

  Evolution Progress: 0%.

  Attack: 10.

  Defense: 10.

  Spirit: 10.

  Talent: Not Activated.

  "Useless," Hank couldn't help but say.

  Compared to the Machete and the entrenching tool, the frying pan was utter garbage.

  The frying pan: "..."

  It hadn't done anything to provoke Hank. Why the sudden insult?

  "Hey, boss," the frying pan said, "did I do something to you?"

  "Nah," Hank replied offhandedly.

  "Then why'd you call me useless?" the frying pan pressed, clearly upset.

  "Just stating a fact," Hank said with a shrug. "Don't take it personally."

  The frying pan: "..."

  He calls it useless and then tells it not to take it personally? Some nerve!