Surviving In The Ancient Times With Limitless Supplies Novels & Stories

--- The third thing I did was manage resource distribution. We had enough to survive—barely. Food from the forest, water from the stream, wood from the trees. But survival wasn't enough. Not anymore. We needed to thrive. I set up a system. Hunters brought meat to the central storehouse. Gatherers brought roots, berries, medicinal herbs. Craftsmen repaired tools, built furniture, wove blankets. Every pack member received what they needed, not what they demanded. The elderly and injured got first priority. Then the families with young children. Then the warriors, who needed strength to defend us.

"Thank you. We will remember this. When you need us, we will be there." "And if you fail? If living without technology proves impossible?" "Then we fail. But at least we tried." Five thousand souls left the central settlements. Moved to the wilderness. Built villages with their own hands. No electricity. No machines. Just wolves and hybrids living as their ancestors had. "They will be back in a year," someone predicted. "Begging for help." But they were not. They thrived. Hunted. Farmed. Built. Created a society that worked for them.

It had eight moons, but only one sun. The magical island had snow all year round, yet vegetation was plentiful in the area. There were few animals, but the human population thrived. Different classes emerged other than the witches, some archers, melee fighters and protectors. But her predecessors maintained sovereignty as the first generation of citizens of Muxue. The majority lived a pescetarian lifestyle, with few resorting to hunting as a form of survival.

Only 45 people were left, with Omari taking up 25 spots, which meant that unless the remaining 20 people's stats miraculously shot up, midnight would be their collective elimination. "We cannot let Omari's people get those emergency supply crates." Steve's gaze landed on me. "Melanie, how does a broke person turn things around in a death trap like this?" The key to surviving as a broke person had never been brute force. It was about finding loopholes, exploiting trickery, navigating chaos, and seizing opportunities. "First Emergency Supply Crate spawned: Terminal T3, Level B2, Employee Break Room!" Sure enough, footsteps echoed in the distance as Omari's team marched toward T3 in full force.

In her past life, natural disasters swept across the globe. Leah Young, once a wealthy heiress, struggled to survive the apocalypse for four years. She endured typhoons, floods, extreme cold, endless nights, scorching heat, insect swarms, and more... She watched her loved ones and teammates die in front of her. In the end, she was shot in the head herself... Leah was reborn two months before the apocalypse and unexpectedly unlocked a storage space called “New Life.” She sold everything she owned and went on a global shopping spree... She tracked down her former teammates and fought her way through the apocalypse... When the island nation teetered on the brink of extinction, she went straigh

I said with a pause while staring at their faces. “We brought some food that can last us for a week, they aren't food that can spoil, we can still manage to survive for a week but how will we work things out? If the food is to finish how will we survive?” they asked as they turned to look at me with a questioning look on their faces. “I don't have a way out but you can all go hunting but you will be caught easily, so I will suggest some people hunt and bring them here. You can cook the food or eat it raw. Everything here is done like in ancient time” I said and they nodded.

As long as Jason did not make a move, no one in this chaotic world could gather the ten famous swords together. Then the seal would never be broken. The legend of immortality was true, but there was a big conspiracy behind the truth. That was because there was similarly a group of survivors of the pre-archean times who wanted to wreak havoc in this world. The history of the antiquity times was a bloody history against the survivors of the pre-archean times. However, as the era changed, those things had long disappeared in the long river of history, leaving only a few words in the ancient books and records.

Today, just like any ordinary day, I would help the farmers plant or harvest. So, I walked toward the farm, passing by our neighbors and our supply areas. The supply areas were where the food and drinks were stocked for the whole tribe. Whoever ran out of stocks at home, they could just get them from here. Everything was free to get anything they needed. Some may hoard some food and drinks, but it was not a crime, since we had everything we need and everything was abundant. Anyway, everyone helped out to make some food and drinks for everyone, so it was like we all earned everything we got from the supply areas.

Her hand was small, yet the power behind it was real. When they locked hands, it felt like two forces slamming into each other. She didn't give ground at all. "You really are strong," Milo said. "Tell me your plan first," Hayley replied, pulling her hand away and sitting back down. "The world fell apart too fast, and now there are barely any survivors left. The cities are still filled with supplies, enough for all of us to live for generations if we can take them. Once the cities are ours, food and goods won't be our biggest worry anymore.

A comprehensive upgrade is necessary, and it must be planned out. They can't just survive on dew and rainwater, nor can they subsist solely on fish, coconuts, salt, and various vitamins. All kinds of protective gear, weapons, and shelters also need to be upgraded. A simple life cannot be sustained for too long; he doesn't expect a rescue team to arrive tomorrow, so he must survive the day after tomorrow, and the days following. Of course, before all this, Ethan Brooks has another plan in mind: the ocean floor.