New Skill

As the roulette spun, a palpable tension filled the air, culminating in a decisive 'DING' that announced the result:

*'DING' Host has landed on 10,000x comprehension trait.*

*'DING' Passive Skill Eidetic Memory has been added as a bonus due to their synergy.*

Without hesitation, I pressed "Yes" to accept the new skills, half-expecting some dramatic manifestation of this newfound power—perhaps a sudden onslaught of a headache or some bizarre physical transformation.

But anticlimactically, nothing of the sort occurred. There was no pain, no black goo, nothing to visually signify the monumental shift in my cognitive abilities.

Yet, even in the absence of any dramatic signs, I could sense a subtle yet profound shift in my perception.

Information seemed clearer, more accessible, as if the vast expanse of my mind had suddenly organized itself into an impeccably indexed library.

The realization that my ability to understand, retain, and recall information had been exponentially enhanced was both exhilarating and daunting.

With these new skills, my capacity to navigate the challenges ahead, to plan, learn, and adapt, had been significantly amplified, opening up a realm of possibilities that were previously beyond my reach.

Picking up a master's degree textbook on engineering—a course I had only recently begun at the university—I decided to test the limits of my newly acquired skills.

While I was reasonably intelligent, the complexities of engineering had always presented a formidable challenge.

But now, with the 10,000x comprehension trait and eidetic memory at my disposal, I was eager to see the transformation in my learning process.

Within just ten minutes of reading, I set the book down, a sense of awe washing over me.

The intricate concepts and theories that had once seemed like insurmountable obstacles now lay within my grasp, clear and comprehensible as if they had always been a part of me.

The information from the textbook was etched into my memory with perfect clarity, every diagram, equation, and principle as accessible as if I had known them all my life.

This newfound capability was nothing short of revolutionary.

It meant that I could now assimilate knowledge at an unprecedented rate, turning what would have been years of study into mere hours of reading.

The implications were vast, not just for engineering but for any skill or field of knowledge I chose to pursue.

With the apocalypse looming on the horizon, this ability to rapidly acquire and retain knowledge was invaluable.

I could delve into herbology, mastering the properties and uses of plants; gardening, ensuring our self-sufficiency in food; leatherworking, for clothing and equipment; and even business skills, to navigate the remnants of the world's economic systems.

Each new skill would be a vital tool in our arsenal for survival, and now, I had the means to forge these tools with unparalleled efficiency.

The end times might be approaching, but with this edge, I felt a renewed sense of hope and determination to face whatever lay ahead.

Armed with this extraordinary ability, I recognized the need for strategic planning.

The skills I acquired in the coming year would be crucial in easing our journey into an uncertain future.

My immediate focus turned to fully mastering the breadth of my engineering degree.

By assimilating this vast expanse of knowledge, I could eliminate the need for attending classes and lectures, thereby liberating precious time for other endeavours.

Architecture and construction emerged as pivotal areas of expertise.

Understanding the principles of design and the practicalities of building would expedite the development of a secure and sustainable home for Emilia and me.

With my enhanced comprehension, I could delve into architectural theory and construction practices, rapidly translating this knowledge into the blueprint of our sanctuary.

This approach would not only streamline the creation of our refuge but also ensure its resilience against the challenges posed by the apocalypse.

Every piece of knowledge in these fields would be a brick in the foundation of our future, a future where we were not merely survivors, but custodians of a new way of life, forged from the remnants of a world teetering on the brink.

The World Union's system, with its provision for accessing a wealth of online academic journals and textbooks, proved to be an invaluable resource.

Thanks to my student ID, I could tap into this repository for free, although, with my newfound financial resources, cost was hardly a concern.

I eagerly downloaded the necessary materials for my engineering course, immersing myself in the comprehensive texts and cutting-edge research papers.

Time seemed to warp around me as I delved into my studies, the night slipping away unnoticed.

The vast landscapes of knowledge unfolded with startling clarity, each concept and theory embedding itself in my memory with perfect fidelity.

It was as if I was living within the pages, the complex world of engineering becoming as familiar to me as the back of my hand.

In what felt like the blink of an eye, I had absorbed an entire year's worth of curriculum.

The prospect of completing my degree at an accelerated pace was no longer just a hopeful ambition but a tangible reality.

With the rate at which I was assimilating information, I calculated that within the next three days, I could potentially master the remainder of my course material, positioning myself for an unprecedented early graduation.

This rapid advancement was more than academic achievement; it was a strategic leap towards fortifying our chances of survival in the face of the impending apocalypse.

With a solid foundation in engineering and the additional skills I planned to acquire, I was laying the groundwork for a future where Emilia and I could not only endure but thrive.

Glancing at the time, I realized it was the moment to rouse Emilia for nursery.

Stepping into her room, I was greeted by the heart warming sight of her, a reminder of the precious second chance we'd been given.

A smile naturally found its way across my face as I approached her sleeping form.

"Baby legs, it's time for nursery," I gently teased, using the nickname that I knew would stir her awake.

True to form, her eyes snapped open, meeting mine with a mock glare as she puffed her cheeks in an adorably indignant pout.

"I told you not to call me that, brother! I don't have baby legs!" she protested, her voice tinged with the feigned annoyance that only a younger sibling could muster so convincingly.

Her spirited response, so full of life and devoid of the shadows that our future held, was a balm to my soul.

In that moment, with the morning sun filtering through the curtains and casting a soft glow on her animated face, the weight of the world seemed a little lighter.

Emilia's presence, her vitality and innocence, reaffirmed the resolve that had taken root in my heart—to protect this slice of normalcy, this fragment of joy, against the coming storm.

"Come on, get washed and ready. I'll make 'baby legs' her favourite breakfast," I teased further, my smile lingering as I exited her room, her exasperated retort of "Ughhhh, stop it, brother!" following me through the walls.

Breakfast flew by in a cheerful blur, and soon we were on our way to nursery.

Our path took us from the sombre confines of the slums into the more bustling realms of the common folk.

Here, the streets came alive with the hum of daily activity; shops opened their doors to the morning rush, budding businesses displayed their wares, and pedestrians wove through the streets, each absorbed in their own routines.

This part of the city, with its blend of technology and commerce, was a stark contrast to the slums.

It was a glimpse into the broader fabric of our society, a technological utopia for the average citizen, where life thrummed with a semblance of normalcy.

Yet, even this vibrant tableau couldn't hold a candle to the opulent districts at the city's heart, where the high-end nobility resided.

There, amidst the gleaming towers and manicured streets, lay a world apart, a realm of luxury and privilege that felt like a distant dream from the concrete reality of our daily lives.

After ensuring Emilia was settled at the nursery, I returned home, dedicating myself to the task of fully assimilating the engineering knowledge necessary for my degree.

The days fell into a consistent rhythm: mornings spent in the joyous company of my sister, cherishing her laughter and delight in the simple pleasures of favourite movies and meals, and the rest of my time immersed in the depths of engineering studies.

In just three days, this focused routine bore fruit.

I had delved into and mastered the expanse of engineering knowledge available through journals and textbooks, an achievement that felt both surreal and exhilarating.

The System, ever vigilant, acknowledged this milestone with a familiar chime:

*'DING' Host has maxed out skill 'Engineering'.*

A wave of relief and gratitude washed over me.

With engineering now firmly under my belt, I could turn my attention to architecture and construction.

These skills were critical for building a secure and sustainable home for Emilia and me, a task that I anticipated would require a solid week or two of dedicated study, starting from the ground up.

Before diving into this new endeavour, I decided to address another pressing matter: expanding our sanctuary.

With 100 million coins at my disposal, it was time to invest in the lands surrounding my initial plot.

This expansion was not just a matter of securing more space; it was about laying the groundwork for a stronghold that could withstand the challenges of the post-apocalyptic world we were destined to face.