"F Class?"
Isla Lane did not yet understand the background of this world. All she knew was what the welcoming system prompt had told her. This was a flooded world, and today marked the one hundred seventy sixth day since the catastrophe began.
The system responded promptly, and began to explain the situation of this world.
According to the system, one hundred seventy six days ago, on the first day of the Cataclysmic Flood Calendar, rain fell without warning. There was no thunderstorm omen, no earthquake, no rumble from the depths of the earth. Only dark clouds rolled in from every horizon, thick and oppressive, blotting out the sun in a matter of hours.
Weather forecasts initially labeled it as nothing more than a severe rainstorm.
Within hours, however, water began pooling in low lying villages and river valleys. At first, people dismissed it as poor drainage or seasonal flooding. Then the small streams swelled violently, overflowing their banks. Fields turned into muddy lakes, crops vanished beneath brown water, and basements filled before anyone could react.
Coastal tides rose steadily, sending warning sirens screaming through harbor towns. Fishing boats strained against their moorings as seawater crept inland, swallowing docks and roads alike.
The rain did not stop.
It poured day and night, heavy and relentless, for three full months.
Rivers overflowed completely, tearing through farmland and towns in their paths. Dams cracked under the pressure. People scrambled to gather sandbags, move livestock, and salvage whatever crops they could before everything was lost. Some families piled into cars and trucks, desperate to reach higher ground. Others had no choice but to climb onto rooftops, clinging together as water crept into their homes inch by inch.
Suburbs were submerged. Industrial areas disappeared beneath oily waves. Even city centers were not spared. Skyscrapers became isolated towers, standing like lonely islands in a vast, muddy sea.
Millions lost their lives.
Anything that could float became a lifeline.
The military and government teams attempted organized evacuations, ferrying people to temporary shelters on hills and tall buildings that had not yet been overtaken. Helicopters roared day and night until fuel ran dry. Boats shuttled survivors back and forth until engines failed or waves capsized them.
Roads vanished beneath the water. Bridges collapsed one after another. Many evacuees became stranded mid journey, forced to paddle with makeshift oars or swim for survival. Food became scarce. Survivors scavenged from submerged stores and half flooded warehouses, breaking glass underwater and hauling out whatever had not yet spoiled. Rainwater was boiled and rationed carefully. People traded valuables, tools, and even memories of the old world for a single can of food.
When the clouds finally thinned, the world believed the suffering was over.
It was not.
The water did not recede. It remained unmoving, stretching endlessly in every direction. The survivors stared at the horizon in horror, slowly realizing that this new sea was permanent.
Without a proper source of food, people began to hunt animals in the water. Fish, crustaceans, and anything that could be caught became targets of desperate nets and spears.
In the fourth month, the rain returned.
This time, it fell a deep, unsettling red.
A week later, aquatic wildlife began to mutate. Creatures twisted by the red rain emerged from the depths, their forms warped and violent. Water beasts slipped through the waves and attacked any floating shelter they encountered. Rafts were torn apart. Ships were dragged under. Screams echoed across the water, then vanished beneath the surface.
Even the hills and highlands that had temporarily provided refuge were no longer safe.
The remaining survivors' hope plunged again, straight into despair.
Then, something changed.
A number of humans awakened strange powers, abilities that defied logic and science. It was as though the world itself had responded to the growing threat, granting a handful of people the strength to resist annihilation.
Three months of rain had erased nearly everything.
Only land one hundred meters above sea level remained.
Isla Lane turned her gaze toward the east.
In the distance, she could see overturned cargo ships, massive steel hulls lying on their sides like fallen beasts. Shipping containers drifted aimlessly, bumping into one another with dull, hollow sounds. Countless fragments of debris floated across the water.
Not far from her position lay a sunken city. Only the tips of skyscrapers remained above the surface, thin and distant, like broken sticks poking out of the sea.
As she watched, one of the skyscrapers finally gave in.
The structure tilted, then collapsed, falling apart as if it were made of toy blocks. Years of soaking in seawater had weakened its foundation beyond repair.
The fate of this world felt disturbingly familiar.
Her previous world had not drowned, but it had experienced all the same.
She could not help but feel suspicious.
Sensing her brooding thoughts, the system spoke again, its voice calm and reassuring.
[The system is not responsible for this cataclysmic flood. We are merely assistants of the Will of the Worlds. In truth, the powers you gained as a hunter in your previous world originated from Xyra 7's World Will. It was also the one that requested your second life. When you crossed over, C 45's World Will sensed the strong karmic luck aura bestowed by Xyra 7 and permitted your entry.]
Xyra 7.
That was the name of her home planet.
Isla Lane had never expected the source of hunters' powers to be the will of an entire world, let alone that the same entity was responsible for granting her a second life. It would be a lie to say she was unmoved.
At the same time, being stuffed with secrets on a world level left her momentarily speechless.
"Are you even allowed to tell me this?" she asked cautiously. "Nothing bad will happen to me, right? No lightning striking me down or something?"
After all, this was technically another world.
If those two faced powerhouses in her previous life had been capable of killing her directly, they would not have gone through the trouble of framing her with false crimes after she exposed the truth. They had chosen the long, dirty way because brute force alone had not been enough.
She had learned her lesson.
She would be cautious this time.
[Rest assured. The system guarantees your safety.]
She relaxed slightly, then asked another question.
"System, are you sure there are still people alive near here?"
As far as her eyes could see, there was not a single living soul. No smoke, no lights, no movement. Only endless water.
Had she arrived too late?
A sudden sense of panic surged through her.
Oh no.
Without customers or tenants, how was she supposed to upgrade this raft into her dream floating city?
Thankfully, the system answered quickly.
[Do not worry. The aborigines of this world are highly resilient. They have established bases and settlements.]
Isla Lane exhaled a long breath of relief.
"Well then," she said, regaining her composure, "can you send me to the nearest base?"
[This location is your starting point. Unfortunately, you cannot move your main floating raft.]
Isla Lane frowned deeply.
"Are you kidding me? If I can't move, how am I supposed to look for customers?"
Before she could finish her complaint, her stomach let out a loud growl.
The thought of customers vanished instantly.
Survival came first. Without surviving, there would be no future real estate empire to enjoy.
"Is there any food?" she asked.
[Inside the cabin.]
Isla Lane turned toward the cabin.
It resembled a tiny snack shack, the kind that used to sell steamed buns and soy milk before dawn. A slanted wooden roof bore faded red paint. A small square window sat at the front, like a service counter. On the side was a narrow door fitted with a bell that gave a weak cling when pushed open.
As she walked toward it, she realized something odd.
The raft beneath her feet was nothing like a normal raft.
The floor was solid, smooth, and completely dry. The wooden planks were tightly joined, leaving no gaps for water to seep through. Even when waves splashed against the edges, not a single drop made it onto the surface.
Not only that, the cold she had been complaining about earlier was gone.
Warmth spread through her body despite her clothes still being soaked through.
What a magical raft.
The moment she stepped inside the cabin, a round ceiling light embedded in the wooden panels turned on automatically, bathing the small space in gentle white light.
The interior was compact, roughly six to seven square meters. One person could live here comfortably, but adding another would make it feel cramped.
Still, in a drowned world like this, it felt like luxury.