Traveling to ancient tribes to build infrastructure

Ariel snapped her eyes open. A blinding pain sliced through her skull, hot and sharp, like a white-hot wire carving into her brain. She gasped, her chest heaving against the thin fabric of her shirt.

"Where am I?"

The last thing she remembered was the screech of tires. The intersection. A delivery truck running a red light. Then-nothing. Just darkness. Just silence.

She was supposed to be dead.

Her vision swam, dark spots dancing before slowly solidifying into shapes. Towering figures surrounded her. Mutated humans. Their shoulders were broad, their arms thick with corded muscle, skin marked by rough patches of scales or coarse hair. The air stank of sweat, unwashed bodies, and something metallic, like old blood.

A bitter wind whipped across the open square, cutting right through her flimsy clothes. She shivered violently, her teeth chattering so hard she thought they might crack.

Then the memories hit her.

Not hers.

The original Ariel's.

Desperation. Fear. Hunger. The terror of being a weak rodent-variant female in a world that crushed the weak underfoot. The mandatory pairing. The auction block.

Ariel staggered mentally, trying to process the flood of information. *I've transmigrated,* she realized, her chest tightening. *Into a beast-world novel. Into a background character who dies in chapter three.*

In her previous life, she had been an engineer. Seven years of structural design, three years of on-site construction management. She had drawn blueprints for bridges, calculated building loads, argued with contractors on job sites more times than she could count. She knew how to build the sturdiest structure with the least amount of materials. She understood exactly what value a "sick man" could have-if someone knew how to use the weakest pieces to build a defense.

"Ten seconds!" a guard bellowed from the high platform, his voice booming over the murmuring crowd. "If you don't have a partner in ten seconds, you get assigned to the border patrol squads!"

Three massive figures detached themselves from the edge of the crowd. Scars crisscrossed their faces. Their eyes, greedy and predatory, locked onto Ariel. They moved toward her, their heavy boots thudding on the packed dirt.

Ariel's heart slammed against her ribs. No. Not like this. She scrambled backward, her shoulder blades hitting the rough stone of a crumbling wall. She had to find someone. Anyone. A legal shield.

Her gaze darted through the jeering, shoving mass of bodies. She needed someone who wouldn't hurt her. Someone the others wouldn't fight her for.

There.

In the shadow of the wall, isolated by a wide berth of empty space, stood a figure. He leaned against the moss-covered stone, his posture slumped. His face was a sickly pale, almost translucent under the gray sky.

The sick one, the original Ariel's memories whispered. Elvin,Dying,No one wants him.

He suddenly hunched over, a violent cough tearing from his chest. It sounded like tearing fabric. He clapped a hand over his mouth. When he pulled it away, dark red blood stained his long, pale fingers. It dripped onto the muddy ground, the metallic stench sharp and foul.

The surrounding mutants recoiled, disgust twisting their features. They shuffled away, leaving a wide circle around him like he was a walking plague.

Ariel didn't hesitate. She sucked in a freezing breath, ignoring the burn in her lungs, and pushed herself off the wall. She ignored the three brutes closing in from her left. She walked straight toward the corner.

She stopped in front of the frail man. With her back to the wind, she used her thin body to block the biting cold from blowing onto him.

He slowly raised his head. His eyes were a striking gray-blue, cold and guarded, like chips of ice. He stared at her, waiting for the insult, the mockery.

Ariel forced her lips into a smile. It felt weak, but it was steady. She raised her right hand, dust clinging to her fingers, and held it out directly in his line of sight.

"Let's team up," she said, her voice almost a whisper, so low that only he could hear it over the noise of the square. "Let's cooperate. I need a shelter, and you need a caretaker."

His pupils constricted. A pure shock flickered through his cold gaze. He looked at her outstretched hand, then slowly examined her body. She was thin, fragile, looked like a strong wind could snap her in half.

Silence spread between them. Then, a self-mocking chuckle touched his pale lips. He raised his hand, his fingers cold, trembling slightly, and then grasped her hand.

The grip was brief but firm.

"Hurry up!" the guard bellowed, striding over. He pulled out a worn parchment and a charcoal stick. With rough and angry strokes, he entered their names into the list.

"Done. Get out."

At the moment of completion, a wave of public mockery swept across the square. Laughter and jeers echoed between the stone walls. A weakling and a dying man. What a joke.

Ariel completely blocked out these sounds. She turned her head, met Elvin's gaze, and then nodded towards the exit. Let's go.

Elvin pushed open the wall. He braced himself against the stone with one hand, his arm trembling as he struggled to stand straight with his tall body. He looked as if just standing there had drained all his strength.

They walked one in front of the other through the crowded and hostile crowd. They ignored the jostling elbows, the spitting, and the whispered insults. They descended the muddy and slippery slope, leaving the center of the camp, heading to the edge, to the dilapidated shelter that now belonged to them.

Ariel grabbed the edge of the warped wooden door. She shoved it hard. A loud, grating creak echoed through the empty room, the rusted hinges protesting every inch of movement.

A wave of stale air hit her face. It was a thick, suffocating mix of mold, damp rot, and years of settled dust.

Ariel choked. She stumbled back, pressing her sleeve over her nose and mouth as a violent coughing fit seized her chest.

Elvin stepped forward. He moved in front of her, his tall frame blocking the worst of the dusty draft. He waved his hand in the air, clearing a path through the floating particles.

They stepped inside. The dim light filtering through the cracks in the walls revealed a disaster. Scattered stones, piles of dried weeds, and dirt covered the floor. And there, in the center of the ceiling, a massive hole gaped open. The freezing wind whistled through it, a constant, biting stream.

Ariel sighed internally. She forced down the panic, the despair. She was a survivor. She had survived worse in her past life. She could survive this.

She turned to Elvin. He was leaning against the doorframe, his chest rising and falling in shallow, rapid breaths. She pointed to the corner where a flat slab of stone served as a bed.

"Sit," she said. Her tone was gentle, but it left no room for argument. "Rest."

Elvin blinked. Something flickered in his eyes-surprise, maybe. He wasn't used to being ordered to rest, especially not with that kind of quiet concern.

He obeyed. He walked over to the stone bed and sat down, his movements slow and deliberate. He settled back, his gaze fixed on Ariel, watching her every move.

Ariel rolled up her sleeves. Her arms were slender, marked with a network of old scratches and fresh bruises. She found a half-bald broom in the corner and began to sweep. The bristles scraped against the stone floor, pushing the debris into a pile.

A massive rock sat right in the middle of the room. Ariel pushed it with the broom. It didn't budge. She dropped the broom and pressed her hands against the cold surface, pushing with all her weight.

Nothing.

She gritted her teeth. She dug her fingers into the rough edges, her face turning red from the strain, and pushed again. Her arms trembled.

Elvin watched her stubborn, awkward struggle. His fingers tapped lightly against his knee. Once. Twice.

He stood up. He walked over until he stood right behind her.

"Let me try," he said softly.

Ariel looked up, worry creasing her brow. She opened her mouth to stop him, but he was already bending down.

Deep inside, Elvin tapped into a sliver of his suppressed power. A tiny thread of silver wolf energy surged through his veins. He gripped the rock.

He pretended to strain. He grunted, his face twisting into a mask of effort. The hundred-pound rock scraped across the floor and thudded against the wall.

The moment it was done, he threw out a hand to brace himself against the wall. He let out a series of harsh, ragged gasps, his shoulders heaving.

Ariel dropped the broom. She rushed over, grabbing his arm. His skin was ice cold under her fingers.

Her heart clenched. She guided him back to the stone bed, making him sit down. In her mind, she reevaluated him. He was stronger than he looked, possessing a surprising burst of power, but that single act had completely drained him. His body was incredibly fragile. Handle with Care.

She rummaged through the broken wooden cabinet in the corner. Nothing. Just dust and splinters. Finally, in the very back, she found a shriveled, mutated potato root.

She took it outside. Using a chipped stone knife, she painstakingly scraped away the blackened, moldy skin. It took her ten minutes just to get it clean enough to eat.

Back inside, she snapped the root in half. The larger piece, maybe a third bigger, she handed to Elvin.

Elvin stared at the tough, fibrous root in his hand. A complex emotion flickered in the depths of his eyes.

Ariel chewed her small piece. It tasted like dirt and cardboard. It was dry and hard to swallow. But she forced it down, her eyes fixed on the river outside the door.

Her mind was already working. Calculating the water flow. The depth. The terrain. Remembering the fishing techniques from the old world.

She swallowed the last bitter bite. She turned to Elvin, her eyes bright with a fierce determination.

"Tomorrow," she announced, "we eat meat."

The first ray of morning light cut through the hole in the roof, hitting Ariel directly in the face.

She groaned, rolling over. Every bone in her body ached from sleeping on the solid stone slab. She felt like she had been beaten with sticks.

She glanced sideways. Elvin was still asleep, his breathing shallow but even. She moved quietly, slipping out from under the thin blanket and stepping outside.

Behind the shelter, a patch of mutated vines grew wild. Ariel selected a few of the thickest, most flexible ones. She snapped them off and carried them back.

She sat on the threshold, her hands moving fast. Her fingers tied knots, twisted strands, and wove the vines together with practiced ease. It was a skill burned into her muscle memory from the old world.

Less than thirty minutes later, a simple fish basket sat in her lap. It had a narrow opening and a wide belly. Perfect.

The wooden door creaked. Elvin stepped out, rubbing his temples. He froze when he saw her pulling the final knot tight on the basket.

His eyes narrowed slightly, a spark of curiosity breaking through his usual dull, sickly facade. But he quickly masked it with a dry, hollow cough.

Ariel looked up. She grinned, holding the basket high.

"Come on," she said, waving him over. "Let's go to the river."

They walked down the rocky path. The camp was just waking up, the air still cool. They reached the riverbank at the edge of the camp. The water ran fast and dark.

Ariel found a deep pool where the current circled back on itself. She dropped the basket into the water, weighing it down with heavy stones.

She dug into the muddy bank, pulling out a few fat, squirming mutated earthworms. She crushed them and tossed the bait into the basket.

While they waited, Ariel scanned the riverbank. She picked up several thin, sharp-edged stones. She tested their weight and balance, then tucked them into her belt.

Half an hour passed. Ariel pointed at the water.

"Pull," she instructed.

Elvin grabbed the vine rope. Together, they hauled the heavy basket up.

It broke the surface. Water splashed everywhere. Inside, more than a dozen mutated fish thrashed wildly, their silver scales flashing in the sunlight.

Elvin stared. He looked genuinely stunned. These fish were notoriously hard to catch. Fast, slippery, and usually ignored by the camp.

Ariel smirked. She grabbed one of the sharp stones. In three swift moves, she gutted a fish, scraping out the innards and tossing them aside. She did it again. And again.

Then came the hard part. She laid a thick filet of white fish meat on a flat rock. She picked up another heavy stone and began to pound. Smash. Smash. Smash.

She beat the meat relentlessly. Slowly, the flaky flesh began to bind together, turning into a sticky paste. She spotted some wild ginger grass growing nearby. She ripped up a handful, squeezed the juice over the meat, and kept pounding to kill the fishy smell.

She built a small stove out of a few large rocks. She set their only dented iron pot on top, filled it with water from the river, and started a fire.

When the water boiled, Ariel grabbed a handful of the sticky fish paste. She squeezed her left hand into a fist, and using her thumb and index finger, she forced a perfect, round ball of meat out. She flicked it into the boiling water. Plop. Plop. Plop.

The white balls bobbed to the surface. A rich, savory aroma exploded into the air. It was incredible. Nothing like the burnt, gamey smell the camp was used to.

Elvin swallowed hard. His throat bobbed visibly. His eyes were locked onto the pot.

Ariel fished out a steaming ball with a stick. She blew on it twice and held it up to Elvin's lips.

"Eat."

He hesitated for a second, then opened his mouth. He bit down.

The texture was springy, bouncy. The flavor was rich, fresh, and deeply satisfying. It burst across his taste buds. It was a sensation he had never experienced in this wasteland.

His eyes flew wide open. He stared at Ariel, this dirty, skinny girl, like she had just performed a miracle.

Ariel saw his shock. Her smile widened.

"Let's make it official," she said. "Permanent partnership. Lifetime registration."

Elvin chewed slowly. He swallowed. He didn't even pause to think.

"Yes."

He nodded.

They poured the rest of the soup into a wooden bucket and hurried toward the center of the camp. They had to see the chieftain.

As they walked, Ariel looked down at the hard, yellow dirt under her feet. In her mind, she wasn't just seeing dirt. She was seeing blueprints. Foundations. Walls. An underground fortress.