"Phew," Julian said, stepping out of the bathing area, feeling fresh for the first time in days.
Being stuck on an island, he figured cool water wasn't so bad.
He'd just have to get used to it — no one here was going to heat it up for him.
The big guy with the claymore had taken a quick bath and left, giving Julian a little time to himself. He would have lingered longer too... if not for Emma's voice calling from the entrance of the men's showers.
"Sorry about that," Julian said as he grabbed his towel, rubbing his hair dry.
"I really needed that shower. At least now I know where to go to take one."
Emma pointed casually to the rack near the entrance.
"Oh, you don't need to take that. Just toss it in the pile. We have someone in charge of laundry. They get paid for handling everyone's clothes."
She placed her own towel onto the pile without a second thought.
"You'll need to contribute to the payment soon, though," she added, glancing at him with a small smile.
"Guess this place isn't as bad as back home..." Julian said with a chuckle.
"I had to wash and feed myself."
The smile dropped from Emma's face in an instant.
"You haven't seen the worst yet," she said, her voice losing its warmth.
"Maybe that's why you can still say that. You'll get your wake-up call soon enough."
Julian felt the bitterness behind her words as they walked toward the dining area.
The hunters hadn't left yet, making the crowd around the long tables larger than usual. Even Mrs. Suzi struggled to keep up, hurriedly handing out plates while balancing a heavy pot of stew.
Without being asked, Emma rushed to help the old lady, joining others who pitched in with passing plates around.
Julian, unsure where he could help without getting in the way, simply waited for his turn.
When he finally received his meal, he scanned the crowded area and chose a spot near the hunting group.
He figured it was better to listen — hunters usually had the best stories... and the most important warnings.
"So," one of them said, slamming his cup onto the table.
"We had two choices yesterday. Find a new place to hunt... or fight the Dire Wolves for food."
Julian leaned in slightly, pretending not to eavesdrop.
"As you all know, they roam the frozen section of the island," the man continued, his voice low but clear.
"The dinosaurs? They don't dare go there. Too cold for them. So the mammals — the wolves, the elks, the mammoths — they rule that place without worrying about big lizards."
Another hunter chimed in, chuckling darkly.
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean it's safe for us."
Julian tightened his grip on his spoon.
It seemed the "real" world outside the enclave was a whole lot harsher than he'd imagined.
And sooner or later... he'd have to face it himself.
"We did notice a few lone raptors, though," a guy named Carl said, his voice steady but grim.
"They're starting to mutate and grow enough plumage to survive in the frost zone. We'll need to watch out for them in the future — and possibly hunt them before they grow in numbers. I don't want to deal with raptors while hunting deer. They could disrupt the balance."
Across the table, Harris rubbed his beard thoughtfully.
"Seems like we need to start working on those new guns soon. Something that packs a real punch," he said.
"But we don't have enough powder for bullets. We'll need to send a team out to find another island for resources."
Harris might have looked relaxed, but the weight in his voice was unmistakable.
He wasn't just their leader — he was the mind behind their survival strategies, constantly balancing innovation and risk.
"Please do," Connan added, slinging his bow across his back as he spoke. "I really need an upgrade. These bows are getting harder to use out there. And it takes way too many arrows to bring down anything big."
Connan and his team — Sarah, Olympia, and two other sharp-eyed archers — were the backbone of the hunting squads, offering ranged support during every major hunt.
Julian sat quietly, soaking it all in.
He loved hearing their stories, even if the dangers they described made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
Still, he acknowledged just how vital these people were to the enclave's survival.
The way Carl described their latest encounter — the terror of spotting a feathered raptor stalking their kill, the breathtaking sight of a herd of mammoths crossing steaming glaciers, the careful, strategic hunt to separate a massive two-meter-tall deer from its herd — painted a vivid, brutal picture.
Here, survival wasn't just about living day to day.
It was about outsmarting nature itself.
"So there you have it," Carl said, pushing back his chair with a creak.
"Now we really need to get moving. Predators should be sleeping right now, so we have a few good hours to track a new herd — or maybe even find some wild hogs."
He grinned widely.
"I really miss pork meat," he said, laughing as he stood up.
One by one, the hunting party rose from their seats, grabbing their gear without ceremony.
They moved with an easy rhythm — people who knew that every second mattered.
As the hunters headed toward the gate, the rest of the enclave began to stir again.
Everyone who had finished eating quickly drifted off to their assigned tasks, leaving the dining area half-empty within minutes.
Julian stayed seated a little longer, feeling the weight of everything he had just heard.
There was still so much he needed to learn.
And even more he needed to become.
Julian made his way toward Michael, hoping there might be something useful he could work on for the day.
"Don't worry, kid," Michael said, waving a wrench in one hand. "Find something else to do today. I only have a few blenders and small appliances to fix. Check the notice board — they're posting jobs for folks who don't have a major role yet."
Julian frowned slightly.
He was nearly twenty-two, yet everyone still called him "kid."
It gnawed at him more than he liked to admit.
With nothing else to do, he headed toward the notice board.
The large wooden slab stood near the center of the enclave, not far from his tower room.
It was covered in papers — hand-pinned notices, handwritten in varying styles.
Each one listed jobs, tasks, or errands that someone in the enclave needed help with, usually offering a small reward in return.
Julian scanned through them quickly, looking for anything that paid well.
One was from Mrs. Suzi, asking for someone to apprentice under her and learn cooking.
Another offered coins for cleaning the bathing area.
Neither appealed to him.
He wanted something that would help him grow — not just survive, but fight.
"Help with crafting arms and repairing weapons... Kevin," Julian read aloud under his breath.
The listing immediately caught his attention.
Helping the blacksmith not only promised valuable pay — ten coins a day — but also the chance to learn how weapons were made.
He dreamed of one day wielding real swords, not just the wooden sticks Kevin had handed him.
Training every morning was one thing.
Mastering real weapons... that was another level entirely.
He pulled the sheet down, folding it neatly.
Ten coins a day wasn't much.
At 150 coins a month for rent, he realized that half his earnings would disappear just to keep a roof over his head.
It wasn't ideal.
Julian sighed, stuffing the paper into his pocket.
He would need to find more ways to earn soon — or risk losing the only home he had managed to claim in this harsh world.
But for now, at least, he had a path forward.