The smell of smoke and hot stone was comforting.
Steve had spent the remainder of the night feeding his furnace.
The result was a satisfying stack of smooth Stone blocks.
He used these to cap the roof of his two-block-high shelter, cementing his position.
His little Cobblestone hut, though basic, felt impervious.
He even crafted a simple Wooden Door to replace the temporary stone wall, giving him an actual entryway.
The sound of the door closing—a solid, satisfying thunk—was the sound of security.
But the most critical piece of craftsmanship was the Torch.
Using a lump of Coal and a Stick, he produced four glowing torches. He placed one inside the hut and three around the perimeter.
The small, cheerful light pushed back the suffocating darkness of the Appalachian night.
As the sun began to filter through the canopy the next morning, Steve felt a different kind of pain than the aches of physical labor: hunger.
His small health bar was full, but a new icon had appeared near the bottom of his vision, looking suspiciously like a row of small, drumstick-shaped icons—his Hunger Bar.
It was half-empty. The energy bars he'd brought were gone.
He needed sustainable food.
He equipped his Stone Axe and stepped out of the bunker.
The priority for the day was Exploration: finding a reliable water source that wasn't just the small stream, and more importantly, finding livestock or plants he could harvest.
He started by expanding the perimeter around his base, using his Axe to clear the thick brush and small, non-oak saplings.
He noted that the dense undergrowth and leaf blocks, when broken, often dropped Sticks or Saplings (Oak).
He pocketed the saplings—a thought for future farming—and moved on.
The forest was primarily dense Temperate Forest, massive trees, dark soil, and rocky outcrops.
He kept his eyes peeled, looking for the tell-tale shape of a pig or the white fluff of a sheep.
After an hour of careful walking, cutting a rough, block-straight path, he crested a small ridge.
Below him, the terrain flattened into a marshy area, characterized by darker, muddier dirt and patches of tall, spiky grass.
And there they were.
First, he spotted three Pigs, grunting placidly as they rooted in the mud near a pool of standing water.
Then, further down, grazing near a cluster of large red flowers, was a pair of Cows.
Steve froze, his hands gripping the Stone Axe.
In his old life, he wouldn't harm a fly.
Now, they were animated food resources. He felt a pang of ethical discomfort, but the dull ache in his stomach and the sight of the draining hunger bar quickly smothered it.
Survival was the new law.
He had no bow, no arrows, and no sophisticated hunting techniques.
He had a Stone Axe.
He chose the nearest target: the pigs.
He crept down the slope, moving with the surprising stealth he'd learned from years of trying to sneak past his boss's office.
He raised the Axe and charged the nearest pig. It barely had time to look up before the heavy stone blade crashed down.
THWACK!
The pig didn't cry out; it simply dissolved into a cloud of small, swirling particles.
Three items popped out and floated toward the ground: Raw Porkchop (3).
Steve felt a wave of nausea, followed immediately by relief. He had food.
He quickly dispatched the other two pigs, netting a total of nine pieces of raw pork.
He checked his hunger bar; he knew better than to eat raw meat.
He then moved on to the Cows, which were larger and more cautious.
He had to chase them briefly before cornering them against a large boulder.
He took them down efficiently, the Axe making a gruesome sound each time.
The cows yielded Raw Beef (6) and, critically, Leather (4).
Leather.
That meant armor, perhaps.
His immediate survival needs were met. He quickly gathered the floating resources and turned back towards his bunker.
The sun was now high, and the woods, despite the promise of new life, felt dangerous.
He arrived back at his camp, heart pounding, but his inventory heavy with sustenance.
He immediately refueled his Furnace with the remaining coal and began cooking.
The sizzle of the Porkchops and Beef was the most beautiful sound he had heard in weeks.
Once cooked, the food was immediately consumed.
The taste was rich, savory, and instantly restorative.
As he ate, he watched his Hunger Bar instantly refill to full, and a faint, yellow shimmer flashed across his health bar, regenerating his minor fatigue.
System feedback, he realized. Food heals.
With a full stomach and a renewed sense of purpose, Steve returned to his Crafting Table, placing the newly acquired Leather.
He arranged the four pieces into a simple T shape.
The output box lit up, showing a simple brown hat: Leather Cap (1).
He equipped it. It wasn't much, but it was a start.
He looked around his tiny, torchlit hut, at the sturdy stone walls and his growing collection of resources.
"I survived Day One in the wilderness, he thought. Now I need to survive the night."