Boredom drove Tom out of his [Crappy Bed], pain or not.

His shoulder popped, and aches flared all over his body, but he made it to the cooking area.

"I've got something for you," Tom announced. He held a bundle out to Heather; one he had been holding onto since the Dungeon.

Heather unfolded the sheets of parchment. Her eyes widened as they skimmed over the instructions. "These are recipes."

Tom ran a hand over his head. "I thought it was best to pass them on."

Heather looked at him carefully. "You want me to learn all these?"

Tom squirmed internally. He would love to learn them, but he didn't know enough about cooking to put them to good use. It was time to accept that his impulsive choice of profession had been a bad one.

He took a deep breath. "Yes. You've really stepped up around here as 'head chef', and you're the best fit for these."

"Thank you, Tom." Heather was still scrutinizing him.

"I'll figure out the prompts for it, but Bo has been arranging a profit tax that goes to the Kingdom from whatever you make from these recipes. If you ever do." Tom turned to limp away.

"When I have a little more time, would you like me to teach these to you?"

Tom paused. He was about to decline the pity-offer, but then an idea hit him. "That sounds great. I think I should make notes on each dish, including their buffs, and which ingredients have which effects . . . "

"Fantastic!" Heather held up a recipe. "We could learn this one now, if you want?"

[Regenerative Catfish Nuggets]

Tom smiled for the first time in days.

They sat together by a cookfire. Heather easily cooked the new dish, but Tom found himself struggling to keep up. His cheeks flushed as he fumbled through his sixth attempt.

Megan joined them; she learned the new recipe just as Tom's Nugget blackened and filled his nose with the smell of burned fish-oil.

Tom's back was yelling at him. He put down the burned food, and eased his groaning body into a standing position. "I'm slowing you down . . . I'll learn it later."

Heather offered him a smile. "Don't worry about it. We have a lot of fish. Come back and try when you've had a rest."

Tom scowled.

All I do is rest.

"Thanks, Heather." He paused. "Hey, Megan? If there is any spare slate around, please could you make notes on different dishes, their ingredients, and the buffs they provide? I'll help as soon as I've rested."

The [Cooks] returned to their work. They seamlessly chopped vegetables with crude wood and stone utensils, and stirred clay pots with practiced ease. Different smokes and scents combined into a mouth-watering haze above the campfires.

Tom dragged his aching body back to the Shack, and sat on a weathered stump outside the door. Each movement was painful, and his thoughts brought no relief.

I should've listened to Job.

Loo skipped up to him, her nose pink from the cold. Her youthful cheery energy clashed with his crabby fatigue.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

"Hey, Dad! Guess what?" She didn't wait for a reply. Loo launched into a long explanation of her discoveries so far with her R&D profession. She had been helping Jeannie.

"It's pretty interesting really, so now she better understands her detection range, plus I think she can 'feel' different types of metals. Still to be determined. Oh, and then—"

Everyone's contributing but me. I'm just a punching bag.

"Loo," he rasped. "Would you mind getting me some chalk, and a couple of those slate tablets Tess uses?"

"Sure thing, Dad. I need to practice my movements anyway!"

Loo floated away, and then reappeared with the requested items. Her small arms struggled with the rectangular slates.

Tom thanked her, and Loo moved a short distance away to practice her Qigong exercises.

Tom tapped a piece of chalk rhythmically against a tablet. He needed to force his mind away from all the negative thoughts.

Tom began by jotting down 'boar meat = durability bonus', followed by 'maple syrup = warming effect'. He continued through the list of ingredients he had worked with so far, and added 'armadillo meat = toughness', and 'rabbit meat = speed'.

A thought struck him; what if Heather could combine ingredients?

The [Gatherers] had recently stumbled upon wild garlic cloves that gave a strong but short-term immune system boost. Perhaps they could experiment by cooking a Boar Kabob with maple syrup and garlic. Maybe they would end up with a [Hearty Immunizing Boar Kabob], or something along those lines? He noted it down to discuss with Heather, and added more notes and thoughts on possible combinations.

Bo ambled up to Tom, stooping under his own column of slates. Tom had never seen him so drained.

"How you feeling, man?" Bo asked.

"Still rough, but getting better." Tom raised an eyebrow. "How about you? You getting any sleep?"

"I'll sleep when the town's built." Bo placed his tablets down.

Tom knew better than to argue.

"Good news is we're firing on all cylinders today. The Quarry team hauled back the first loads of carved bricks. The Mine is like a blank check, and we need every piece of Copper it has. Each building costs a damn arm and a leg." Bo stretched his back. "Chloe is going to be a rich ass woman at the end of all this. The Kingdom is temporarily borrowing from her funds so we can pay for stuff, but eventually we'll get it all paid back." He began counting off on his fingers. "I still need 150 for the Lumbermill, 150 for a Blacksmith Forge, and we need more housing . . . and we're paying wages to everyone contributing to the Kingdom." He sighed. "It's all needed. It's just hard, coordinating it all."

Tom nodded. He had noticed the budding economy himself; Coins changing hands for extra cloths, or for specific items from [Gatherers] and [Herbalists].

"Speaking of which," Bo said, pulling Tom from his thoughts. "I'm offering bonuses to those willing to take up [Hauling] professions. I wanted to ping my plans off someone before I commit more of our money. Sound good?"

Tom shrugged, though even that hurt. "Yeah, dude. Whatever you think is best."

"Cool. [Haulers] can carry weight like you wouldn't believe, and they move faster due to time-dilation on their Hauling paths. It's wild, but . . . ," he sighed, "that means they're outpacing their escorts. It's all a giant pain in the ass to figure out." Bo shrugged. "Anyway, I guess it's better than dying."

Bo looked at Tom. "How are you holding up? Really?"

"I'm getting there." Tom did his best to put on a believable smile. "Still some pain, but I'll be ready for any monsters. Oh, and for training tomorrow."

Bo sighed. "I keep forgetting about the training."

For a few minutes Tom and Bo watched the time-dilated work happening around them at super speeds.

Raintree needed a constant supply of lumber. Most of the dense woods surrounding the clearing had been razed, and the landscape around them had been transformed. Tom hadn't realized that what they had termed 'the hill' was just a bump on a much larger hill. With each tree that fell, their view toward the Dungeon was more exposed. It would be easier to spot an attack coming, but it meant the Headless could monitor Foundation too.

"How's everyone else?" Bo's gaze was fixed in the direction of the Dungeon. "What's Kate up to?"

Tom scratched at his stubble. "She's working with the other [Farmers]. They're knee-deep in seeds, trying to figure out how to germinate them. No luck so far. They're also categorizing them. Seems we've got more varieties than we know what to do with."

Bo nodded. "They'll figure it out."

"What about Hana?"

"She's got a small army of [Toolmakers] now, and they're churning out tools like there's no tomorrow. Good thing too, because they're all [Crappy] so the durability is pretty low."

Tom shifted on his tree stump. "How's everyone else in town? Any interesting news? I miss a lot lying here all day. How's Bridget doing?"

"She's refocused on getting people to choose a profession and get to work. We still have people who are 'undecided'." Bo mimed air quotes.

A silence settled between them.

Tom frowned down at his hands. "I think I made a mistake with this cooking business."

Bo turned, and met his eyes squarely. "Maybe. Or maybe we would've starved to death without those first few meals."

"Bo, we have all the [Boldheart Cedar] ready," Sam called from across the 'street'.

"I better go. We're going to start raising the town center. It's a big step, but if we get this unlocked then I can move onto the production buildings like the Lumbermill, Blacksmith, and stone masonry. Want to join?"

"Head on over. I'll join you in a bit."

Tom didn't have any more notes to add, but Bo would have stayed to slowly walk with him, so Tom pretended to write on his tablets.

Rising to his feet was a slow process; each movement sent sharp stabs through his body. He gritted his teeth and inched forward, shuffling more than walking.

The site for the Town Hall was buzzing with activity. The first posts were being driven into the ground at an accelerated pace; their size dwarfed those used for the Shacks.

Tushar and Priya approached Tom. They thanked him for clearing the Dungeon, and for providing food recipes. Some of the other [Cooks] gathered around and joined in. Tom scratched awkwardly at his beard, and squirmed under their praise. He changed the subject, and quizzed them about the recipes, ingredients, and buffs they'd discovered.

More people gathered as evening descended.

Tom caught up with Helen. She had become a [Tailor], and created a tunic—fashioned from thin armadillo skin with sown on scales—which provided added toughness to its wearer. She had sold it for five Copper.

The Town Hall's frame was up; it was a much larger building than Tom had imagined. The stones had been set down as a solid foundation, and several rooms were framed out. It would have a large area for meetings, three rooms as offices, and another large room for storage.

As the night rolled in, Tom ate dinner with his family within sight of the building work. He had his arm around Kate, and they chatted happily by the campfire. It was almost peaceful.

Later, after construction had paused, Tess reminded everyone to get to sleep ready for training bright and early. She stalked through Foundation, and scolded anyone who was not on their way to bed.

Tom chuckled at how much Tess was shaping up to be just like her father. Stern and serious, for sure, but also trustworthy and reliable. Tom was glad that the Robinsons were finally moved into a Shack, and would be getting a night of rest out of the cold.

They would need it for training.

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