The call to action burning inside was quite strong at the moment, but there were things to do before get chose to get everyone's hopes up. First on the agenda was the need to check his mail. He'd been informed of the dedicated delivery schedule. If that proved inaccurate then he could allow himself to doubt the information he'd just learned a little.

Scott waved to people in passing and said his good mornings. Everyone seemed tired, but a bit upbeat. There was a sense of motivation in this place since they'd briefed each other on recent events last evening. The air was practically aglow with hope for the future.

In some ways that hope was heartening, but Scott knew the truth. There would be a lot more hell for everyone before they could find their new heaven. The world outside did not run on hope and dreams. It was a nightmare of howling throats and gnawing teeth, not to mention the occasional upbeat musical number.

He waved to the people on duty at the tower without taking the time to recognize who they were specifically. Instead, he focused on the task at hand. If he had mail then it would prove the situation further, and even he might believe the possibilities even more. If there was no mail, then either he'd received none that morning or the information given in that chest was a lie. Either way, a lack of mail would lead to doubt.

Sure, he planned to try converting an outbuilding into a recruitment center anyway, but he wanted to believe in the possibilities before-hand. He needed to believe in something, anything that would lead to people bouncing back from the edge of extinction. Anxiety over every little situation had started to grow into a gnawing sensation in his gut of late.

He forced himself to be confident about his actions, especially in front of others. But deep down he knew the truth. He was not some great lord of the apocalypse. He'd gotten a little lucky early on and did his best by people unless they proved their situation hopeless. It granted him many benefits over time, but took an incredible toll on him.

Even now his recently recreated body bore fresh new scars from the various battles he'd fought. Yet, the deepest scars were not physical, and those stayed with him after the change. He'd seen a lot during the last few days. Things mostly turned out alright, somehow, but he was not foolish enough to think things were getting better any time soon, even with resurrection potential.

He hopped up and over the gate with little issue, and landed on the other side. It did not take long to reach the mail boxes and package drop off point.

"Moment of truth, I guess," said Scott. He'd never been so nervous when checking his mail in his life.

Scott took a deep breath then opened the box meant for the faction in general. Everyone could receive general mail through this box unless they opted to buy their own mailbox. He saw no reason in giving anyone money for that. If they wanted a private post box, let them buy it on their own. Only a faction member could open the box as well, so it was safe as long as they did not recruit a mail thief.

"A few magazines, and a couple of letters?" he asked curiously. He looked the letters over and noticed that they bore resemblance to advertisements. Most were addressed to the faction head, so he figured they were for him. He tucked them in his backpack, and then took a look at the magazines.

"Lord Fizzle's Mega Monster Manual? Better Homes and Dungeons? Celebrity Action Report? Soldiers of the Apocalypse – Swimsuit Edition?" asked Scott curiously. The names of the magazines were obviously meant to be puns, but they held his curiosity.

"Well, this is interesting," he said with a grin. They each turned out to be monthly subscription magazine. His first month was free, but for the low cost of one thousand daemons each he could subscribe for an entire year.

He put the magazines away as well, and then checked his private mail box. The moment he opened it he smelled a delightfully fragrant aroma. There were four envelopes inside, along with a copy of the magazines he'd acquired in the faction mail box.

"So, I get duplicates of these? Do I have to pay twice for that?" he asked curiously. What it meant was obvious for now. He could have a private copy of those magazines and the rest of the group could look over the ones sent to the faction.

Scott started to put them away but noticed there was one more magazine than in the other box. He picked it out from the crowd then blinked.

"Seriously?" He snorted then laughed at little when he realized the magazine was actually a graphic novel. He quoted the title aloud, "Love on the Run – A Hero's Road to Romance in the Apocalypse."

Curious, he opened it up then his eyes immediately widened. "Wait..."

The first actual page of the graphic novel showed a man pushing a scooter down an empty highway. Despite being a drawn image the person shown was easily recognizable. "No way... This..."

Eyes wide, Scott continued to read of the man's exploits. He witnessed the rainstorm, the first flight from a ghoul at the convenience store. He even saw the unfortunate fat man get devoured by the ghouls.

He rapidly skipped through the book, though he did notice a graphic scene of the character's finger sliding gently into a mermaid's ass. A beautifully rendered scene in glorious eye-catching color, he could not help but notice the subtle work when it came to the line work, alongside the light and shadow effects.

While Scott did briefly stop to examine that gorgeous bit of artistic gold, he did not lose sight of what needed to be done. Briefly, he considered stopping his review of the strangely intriguing book. However, he was hooked. There was a lot to do today, but he still needed to see how the story ended!

The first issue ended with the main character screaming about having the power, how body being turned to ash, and being reborn with vividly blue hair. Scott took a moment to process that bit of news. Did this mean that there would be more volumes coming out?

Scott checked the cover and verified the situation. "Volume one, huh? Wonder how much it costs to get that long ass title printed?"

A brief moment passed and he said with a laugh, "This is pretty friggin' sweet."

This was clearly the weirdest apocalypse ever. Yet, things were looking up. He put the book away and headed back inside. It was time to get started on his real project for the day.

There were several out buildings he could use as a recruitment center, but first he needed to go find Rosa. While he did technically own the place, he also wanted it to still be her home. He could upgrade and restructure almost any building in town with enough time and money, but making people feel like they had no say in their own home was ridiculous.

Besides the sentimental aspect, the manor house was great as a starting base, but he would need to find and secure a larger location once they began expansion. It would be impossible for hundreds of people to live in this location. Upgrading defense and the like was necessary, but it was still someone's home. Turning it into an armed survivor camp did not necessarily mean making it into a prison for those who lived within its walls.

As luck would have it, he found Rosa in the back yard. He watched as she thrust and cut at the air in a steady series of rapidly paced fluid movements. Her hair was tied back in a functional ponytail, and sweat glistened on her skin. It was obvious that she'd been practicing for a while already.

Scott spent a moment admiring her form. She made swordplay look easy. Despite his instinctive knowledge and the skills he'd had in that regard, he saw a genuine difference between his haphazard swordsmanship and her actual trained skill. In a fight, he'd win. However, that was entirely due to the system. There was no doubt of it.

Eventually she came to a stop. Her breaths came in short pants while she saluted her fictional opponent with her blade.

Scott clapped and said, "Looking good out there!"

She looked down at the ground, a slight hint of color coming to her cheeks. "Morning practice is something I used to enjoy."

He nodded to her then walked over to where she stood. "I'm glad you could get back into it then..." he said softly.

"Are you?" asked Rosa in her quiet way. She never looked up from the spot on the ground that she stared at.

"Yes. I've just learned a few things that might help a lot of people get back into a more normal routine someday," he said.

His words fell strangely on her ears. She took a moment to process them then turned to look him in the eyes. "What do you mean?"

Scott looked at her for a moment then took a deep breath before relating what he'd learned that morning. Rosa listened carefully, and over time her eyes grew wide.

"Is it really true?" she asked breathlessly. Her current inability to breath easily had nothing to do with her previous exertion. The possibility of rebuilding and bringing back lost people was incredible, and quite hard to believe.

"I won't know till we try it. That's why I came to see you," said Scott.

"What did you need from me?" she asked him curiously.

"I need to build that recruitment center. That means repurposing one of the out buildings here, but I don't want to just seize your property," said Scott.

Rosa frowned prettily then slowly nodded her head. "I appreciate that, but if you really want my thoughts on the matter then can I ask just one favor of you?"

"Sure. If I can do it, I'll try," said Scott.

She took deep breath then closed her eyes for a moment. Finally, when she was ready she said, "You can do whatever you want with this house. I don't care. You've done a lot for me, and I'd probably be dead by now if it wasn't for you coming along."

"You seemed to be doing alright at the time," said Scott.

"No. I was hiding and desperate. Even one of those things could have found and killed me," she said.

Scott said nothing. The likelihood of anyone surviving at level one without at least a few pieces of equipment was quite low. He did not want to say it, but her words were probably true. She would have died here.

Rosa sucked in a breath then blew it out before looking into his eyes once more. "The first person you try to bring back... Make it my father."

She stared at him, a determined look in her eyes. "I won't complain about anything you ever do with this place if you at least try to do that."

"Are you really sure? This is your family home," said Scott.

He continued, "It's true that it could benefit from more fortification, but—" She cut him off quickly and spoke with even greater determination than her eyes had shown. "Cut down the hedges, board up the windows. Turn it into a military base with turrets and barbed wire."

Her determined eyes shifted into an angry and tearful glare. "Ring it with pikes out front and put Daniel's head on one of them if he comes back. I won't give a damn. Just please give me this one thing if you can."

Scott reached out and put his hand to her shoulder. "Let's do it. There's no promises, since he could still be alive you know."

"I know. If anyone could survive this it's my father. It's just impossible for him to get here, and I don't even know if he'd be able to try. He was overseas..." said Rosa, tears beginning to appear at the rims of her eyes.

They spent a silent moment together as those words hung in the air. Once they began to move, things went quickly.

Rosa showed Scott to a larger outbuilding that was used as a garage. He immediately asked, "Wouldn't this be better to keep as a garage? We need to buy working vehicles soon."

"If you want to keep this place as is then there's another place we could try. It's a little smaller, but not by much," she said.

Scott followed her over to a small house near the back wall. It looked like a small single room house, but it was quite fanciful in design, more like a tiny rendition of a noble manner. It came complete with balustrades and marble stairs, and several white pillars that held up the porch ceiling.

"Sheesh, where did you keep the cotton?" asked Scott while he looked at what he could only think of as a little plantation house.

Rosa smiled softly then laughed a little. "It was my playhouse as a child. My father built it so that I could play with my friends and act as a proper Southern lady entertaining guests."

"How did that turn out?" asked Scott curiously.

She held up her hand and allowed it to flop over elegantly and affected a Southern Belle accent, "Why I do declare Mister Badass. Why ever are you asking a lady about her upbringing in such a callous manner?"

Scott eyed her hand for a moment then grinned, "I don't know why, but I have a sudden craving for sweet tea and fried chicken with greens."

Rosa laughed a little and retracted her unattended hand. "Why sir, I do also have the finest of biscuits to offer you."

"Don't tempt me!" he exclaimed with a laugh.

She placed her hands to her hips and tilted her head a little. A warm smile on her lips, she exclaimed, "Why, bless your heart!"

The laughter continued merrily for a moment before her cheeks began to color slightly and she looked away. She continued to smile, but it was obvious that she felt a little awkward now.

Scott asked, "Are you sure about this place? It'll probably stop looking like this once it's upgraded, "he said."

"It's fine. If it at least gives me an answer about my father and helps everyone out, I won't be sad about it," she said.

"Right," he said sincerely. "I'll get started."

They got back to business not long after the conversation ended. Scott walked up to the door of the overly fancy playhouse and put his hand to it. "Now, how do I do this?"

"You don't know?" asked Rosalina in her normal tone of voice. No longer a Southern belle, she spoke in softer tones.

"Well, it didn't tell me exactly how I build a recruitment center," said Scott.

They spent a few minutes discussing the situation before he came to the conclusion that he should try doing things like he did when he tried to see a character's level or item stats. After a bit of trial and error he managed to figure things out. If he stared the building long enough while intent on seeing its status he could see a hazy image begin to form. The first two times surprised him, but the third time he saw what he needed to see.

Small House – Level 1

Durability: 595/600 [Repair Cost: 5]

Type: Residence

Population: 0/2

Upgrades: 0/2

Upgrade Cost: 4000

Change Design Structure? [Yes | No]

Scott tapped the 'yes' option for changing the design structure and four options appeared. One of which was the recruitment center. The other three options were conversion into a store, army barracks, or a storage building.

"Convert building into a recruitment center for twenty-thousand daemons..." said Scott. So far everything that he'd been told was correct. He opted to make the conversion happen.

The moment that he made his choice the screen asked for payment. He could bring the money in person or have it drafted from his faction vault. He tried drafting from his vault and found that it worked.

"Guess that little treasure chest counts as a vault for now..." said Scott.

Rosa looked at him but said nothing. However, the sudden change in the building before her brought her attention fully to the task at hand. Her old playhouse shimmered and then shifted to a fuzzy and indistinct appearance. A moment later it disappeared altogether. In its place a yellow tent appeared with a sign out front. She read it aloud, slightly amused by what she saw. "Initialization upgrade in process – please return in one hour."

From the tent they could both hear the sounds of wood being sawn, nails hammered, and human voices shouting back and forth. Scott moved forward to try to look inside the tent, but ran into an invisible wall that prevented him from going further.

"Well, that's certainly going to cause a stir when people notice it," said Scott with a chuckle. He looked to Rosa. "Guess we should go tell everyone while we wait so no one gets any weird ideas..."

"Makes sense..." she said with a slight smile. She turned away from the upgrading tent and headed off alongside Scott. In an hour she hoped to find the answer to a question that had plagued her for quite some time now.