[Chapter 159. Another Day of Organization]

Morning light filtered through cracks in the boarded-up window of Searanox's room in the damaged house adjacent to the hotel. He lay motionless on the bed, Iris curled against his chest. Her snout was buried in his neck, soft fur brushing his skin with each of her steady breaths. He watched her sleep—something he hadn't done often since the System arrived. He'd used the node to recover completely, so his body wasn't tired, but something kept him here when he should have been moving.

Dungeons would reset soon. Another hour and he'd miss the optimal window for clearing. Still, he remained. Iris had pushed herself to reach level twenty. Reward and punishment were tools he used with precision. Today, it was about the former.

A twitch of her tail became a slow wave against the bedding. Her paws shifted in her sleep, claws barely pricking his skin as her snout pushed deeper against his neck. A soft sound escaped her—half whine, half contented sigh.

`It must be a pleasant dream.`

His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer. She responded instinctively, her body molding against his, nuzzling deeper into the crook of his neck. The warmth of her fur seeped into his skin, a pleasant distraction from the calculations running through his mind. Another soft noise escaped her lips.

But productivity waited. No reward was worth the cost of missed opportunities. Slowly, carefully, he began to extract himself from her embrace. Iris stirred instantly, her silver eyes fluttering open, looking up at him. "Don't go," she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

"I have my dailies," he replied, using the softer tone he reserved only for her. "Be a good girl and give me a kiss before I leave."

Her lips found his without hesitation. She shifted, moving on top of him as the kiss deepened. Her claws traced patterns down his chest toward his abdomen. A low chuckle rumbled in his throat as she pressed against him, her eagerness obvious.

When they parted, she looked deep into his eyes, seeking approval. "I said a kiss, but I won't complain if you continue." Her tongue flicked against his neck. "Just don't take too long—I have things to do."

A soft hum vibrated in her chest at his permission. Her muzzle descended, sharp teeth just grazing the skin of his neck—a careful nip, claiming without breaking. The rhythm of her movements shifted from eager to deliberate, each touch refined by his approval. Several minutes passed before Iris slowly got off him, her breathing a touch heavier than before.

He watched her for a moment longer before swinging his legs off the bed and reaching for his coat. Her black fur stood out against the pale sheets, a shadow that seemed to absorb the morning light filtering through the cracks.

His hand settled on her head again, fingers combing through the silver-white strands of her mane. "Keep the city running while I'm gone."

Iris leaned into his touch, her eyes closed. "I will."

He stepped out of the house and onto the street, the morning light revealing a changed landscape. The rubble that had clogged the thoroughfares upon his arrival was gone now, cleared to the sides in neat piles. People moved with purpose, their gaits no longer shuffling but determined. Yet the contrast between the functional roads and the skeletal remains of collapsed buildings created a stark, unfinished picture.

`It will take ages to rebuild everything, especially without proper tools.`

The thought surfaced as he surveyed the damage. His path led him toward the hotel, where the thickest crowds gathered—the free food distribution point, became the city's beating heart.

As he approached, Samantha directed four others at five tables set up in the hotel's shadow. They distributed portions of Titan Bull meat, while drones dispensed identical fist-sized pieces to each person who reached the table. The rhythmic efficiency of the system was almost mechanical.

"Searanox," Samantha called out, noticing his approach.

"Where should we put the meat when we're done here?" Searanox asked while looking over the tables.

Her eyes darted from him to the drones, then toward a folded tarp nearby. "Here, on this. One moment."

Two of the helpers unfolded the tarp, spreading it behind the distribution tables.

"If you would, could you place it all there in uniform portions? It's a great help that we don't need to measure it ourselves," Samantha said, holding up a fist-sized chunk of meat that still steamed in the cool morning air.

"We can do that, sure."

The cargo drones descended, unloading their contents onto the tarp. Uniform chunks of meat stacked in neat layers, the pile growing until it reached their hips. Forty thousand pieces in total, forming a mountain of meat that defied the morning's quiet. Once emptied, the drones dissolved into sparks of blue light.

`That's far more than I expected. The sight alone is baffling.`

"How's the basement coming along?"

"Rayan's down there with two others working on it now," Samantha replied, her attention already returning to the distribution line. She passed another still-warm chunk of meat to an outstretched hand.

"Good. I'll leave for now. I expect to be able to unload the next shipment in there by my return." A travel drone materialized beside him, the blue flash of light cutting through the morning mist.

Without another word, he mounted the drone and shot toward the forest. Three hours blurred into a sequence of dungeon entrances and the familiar confines of his tower's Atrium. He sorted through the parts and materials he'd gathered—a considerable haul, though their usefulness remained secondary to possession.

A cargo drone descended with him into the dungeon depths; it dumped all supplies deemed unsafe for consumption, ensuring they were gone for good. The rest, either slowly spoiling or preserved indefinitely, he assessed quickly. Anything liable to rot within days filled another cargo drone to capacity.

On the return journey, he carved through packs of beasts on the plains, their carcasses adding to the cargo drones payload. Eight drones full of meat trailed him as he approached the city.

The hotel entrance loomed ahead. The stairs leading to the basement exhaled a cold draft that intensified with each step down. Frost crawled up the concrete walls in crystalline patterns. His breath misted in the frigid air as he reached the bottom.

The entire basement glowed with teal light, the ice coating every surface reflecting the Corpse Lanterns hung along the corridor. At the far end, Rayan stood with two others.

"I see you've solved the cooling problem," Searanox said, his eyes sweeping over the frozen chamber. "Crude but effective."

"Yes. One of the recently leveled Awakened has an ice affinity. He's one of three with any real useful skill in it."

"Where should I put the meat?" Searanox approached, his boots crunching on the frosted floor.

Rayan turned and nodded to the others before walking toward him. "Any room would do. We've prepared them."

The drones flew into a side room where a large tarp was frozen solid to the ground. They unloaded their cargo in perfect uniform stacks—identical squares of meat building up to form a solid platform. Once emptied, the drones dissolved in flashes of blue light.

"The hunting teams?" Searanox asked as they climbed the stairs back toward the main hall.

"Several teams are farming smaller beasts on the plains. They bring back decent hauls, but nothing close to your scale," Rayan said, their footsteps echoing in the stairwell.

"Expected. A few hundred kilos won't feed thirty thousand people." Searanox reached the top step. "But at least they understand the difference between Awakened and not." He gestured toward a small room nearby. "I also brought perishables."

Inside, shelves overflowed with sweets and consumables, all likely to spoil within days.

The hotel lobby was quiet now, the morning distribution complete. A few stragglers lingered near the tables, but most had already dispersed to their assigned tasks.

"I need to check on something," Searanox said, turning toward the hotel entrance. "Make sure the perishables are organized properly. Nothing can be wasted."

Rayan nodded, though his eyes flickered toward the west. "The other group... Alina and the others?"

"They're handling their own leveling now," Searanox replied, his voice flat. "I'll drag them through Rotting Swamp until then. They'll reach level ten in the coming days. After that, they're on their own."

He stepped outside, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the cleared streets. The group—Alina, Chloe, Mara, Ben, and Liam—had been grateful at first. Now they just seemed tired. The dungeon runs had become routine: enter, stand at the entrance while he cleared everything, then collect their share of the experience. Not once had they lifted a weapon against the swamp's horrors.

`They've been practicing in their free time. At least that.`

He'd seen them sometimes in the evenings, gathered in an open space near the hotel. Drills, formations, spellcasting repetitions. Still clumsy, still uncertain. But they were trying. Two teams now, each weaker than the last. One struggling through dungeons on their own, the other still clinging to his power like children to a parent's hand.

But that wasn't what pulled at him now. His gaze drifted eastward, toward something he'd deliberately avoided since claiming this city. A place that whispered to him during quiet moments, demanding attention he wasn't ready to give. Each day the call grew stronger, more insistent.

`Too many variables. Too many unknowns.`

He knew himself well enough to recognize obsession when it began to form. Once he investigated, once he peered into that particular mystery, it would consume him. And the city needed his focus now—needed food, needed order, needed protection from the beasts that roamed beyond its crumbling borders.

His feet carried him anyway, past the food distribution tables, past the makeshift barracks where the newly Awakened trained. The crowds thinned as he moved deeper into the ruins, the buildings growing taller in their decay.

The plaza opened before him suddenly—a wide, uneven space where weeds pushed through cracked concrete. And there, in its center, stood the stone formation—a familiar sight. The same one that had drawn his attention from the moment he'd first claimed this city. Faint light pulsed from its surface, rhythmic and slow, like a heartbeat.

He stopped at the plaza's edge, the hum of the stone reaching him even from this distance.