Chương 130: 49. Outside the Rulebook 49-2

The rest of the route went smoother than expected. We followed the dry riverbed out of the hottest rainforest zone, then skirted the outer face of the basalt ridge into what we'd marked as the low-stability natural cavity cluster. Long name for: a stretch of terrain with enough rock gaps, broken sightlines, and general unattractiveness to be overlooked. In times like this, unattractive was the same as good.

"There." Lan stopped first, pointing to a massive slanted boulder pressed against a half-collapsed cliff face. From outside, it looked aggressively unremarkable. Gray-black, ugly surface cracks, surrounded by storm-blown char and debris. Not a cave—more like an unfortunate boulder that had gotten wedged during a geological shift. But precisely because of that, it had formed a narrow shadow corridor underneath. Hard to see into from the front, and from above it just looked like another rock fracture.

I looked at it and felt something sharpen.

"This is good." D went in first—half-crouched, turned sideways, knocked on the rock face, checked the rear.

"Fits people," he said.

"Not deep enough." I crawled in to look. True. The concealment was excellent—almost movingly excellent. But the depth would only fit four or five people sitting compressed. With eight of us, either someone's backside was sticking out or feet were going to be in the entrance like a welcome sign.

"Classic," Harvey said, peering in.

"Finally find a decent spot and the specs are wrong."

"Like you," Jess said immediately.

"How is that like me?"

"Looks useful. Consistently falls short."

"That's a personal attack—" I crouched down and pressed my hand to the ground beneath the rock. Hard-packed soil, mixed sand and gravel. Not easy, but not impossible. If we dug inward along the rock's base, shaving the surface down into a semi-sunken trench, we could expand the space. Add thermal blankets, char debris, and a removable screen... It could work. And once finished, this wouldn't just hide us—we could open the screen for observation, then drop it to vanish from sight. I stood and dusted off my hands.

"Here." Roy blinked.

"Here?"

"Yes."

"But the depth—""So we dig," I said. Two seconds of silence. Harvey's expression was magnificent—like he'd just been sentenced to hand-copy the Federal Penal Code.

"…Dig?"

"Yes. Dig." Jess stared.

"You mean actual digging?"

"What else? Negotiate with the geology?" D looked at the shadow, looked around, and was the first to nod.

"Viable." Akari added: "Safer than finding a natural cave." Maki was direct: "Can hide us, can treat injured, can maintain watch. I'm in." Three to one. The rest didn't have much choice. Ten minutes later, we were officially digging a trench. Yes. A trench.

Allow me, as a fourteen-year-old girl who should theoretically be writing reports and worrying about uniform skirt lengths, to document this absurdity: Under a Federation education system advanced enough to deploy Jäger (Hunters) with paralytic rounds and opaque enough to run shelter access on blackout rotations, we had arrived at crouching under a rock with folding shovels, pry bars, knives, pliers, and the edge of a shield, digging like extras in a historical war film. What had human progress achieved?

Probably just better justifications for making people dig trenches.

"I want to formally state," Harvey complained with deep sincerity, "what century is this? We're digging trenches like old-era infantry? Did the Federation tech tree abandon everything except surveillance and murder?" Jess was prying soil loose on the other side.

"You're only figuring this out now? They've perfected making students complete their own manual labor with dignity." Roy, sweating heavily, still managed to add earnestly:"Technically, this is more of a semi-buried covered position rather than a standard trench—""Roy." I looked up.

"…Sorry. Digging quietly now." Lan worked in silence, movements clean and efficient. D wasn't digging so much as demolishing—every strike carried enough force to make me want to file a workplace injury claim on behalf of the ground. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. The real problems were Harvey and Jess. One wouldn't stop talking; the other wore her displeasure openly.

"I genuinely feel humiliated," Jess ground out, scraping dirt backward.

"If I make it back alive, I'm never telling anyone I dug a trench."

"Don't worry," Harvey said.

"When you get back, you'll probably traumatize people too much for them to ask."

"Harvey."

"What?"

"One more word and you become the foundation layer."

"Captain, are you seeing this—" I finally snapped, driving my shovel into the ground with a sharp clang.

"Enough!" Everyone stopped and looked up. Good. Finally quiet. I stood in the half-dug hole, covered in sweat, ash on my knees, hair looking like I'd wrestled the entire rainforest—which wasn't far off—and addressed my complaining squad.

"What century? You want to talk about what century?" I pointed at the steaming, scorched forest outside.

"There are Jäger (Hunters) out there! There are other students who will take your water, your life, your shelter! There is ground that will cook your feet through your boots! You have a rock that's hidden, solid, and can be improved into shelter—and instead of digging, what? You want to stand outside and yell at it until it gets deeper?" Harvey opened his mouth. I didn't give him the chance.

"Historical trenches? If a historical trench keeps you alive for the next few days, then right now it's cutting-edge technology! Anyone else who complains about the era can go discuss modernization with a Jäger (Hunter) personally!" Silence. Absolute silence. D ducked his head and coughed—I suspected he was suppressing laughter. Jess rolled her eyes, but her mouth twitched. Harvey wore the expression of someone realizing they'd pushed the captain past the instructor threshold.

Even Akari glanced over, and I could almost read not bad in her eyes. Maki delivered the final blow with perfect calm:"Understood? The captain just summarized human civilizational development for you. Dig." Everyone went back to work. Much quieter than before. Apparently, no matter how far humanity evolves, getting yelled at remains effective. We dug in shifts for nearly two and a half hours. D and I broke the hardest surface layer. Lan and Jess cleared loose material.

Harvey used tape and pins to stabilize collapse-prone sections. Maki and Roy managed the excavated dirt, scattering it and covering it with ash so it didn't look like a construction site. Akari dug initially, then moved to perimeter watch, pointing out sightline issues. The best moment was D using his shield as a dirt carrier. Yes. The shield built to absorb impacts, deflect paralytic rounds, and serve as heroic military hardware—repurposed as a wheelbarrow. Harvey nearly collapsed in grief when he saw it.

"D, do you understand what your shield is experiencing?" D dumped a load without expression.

"It's working."

"It was meant to be a symbol of honor."

"Now it's a shovel." Jess laughed so hard she had to crouch down.

"Beautiful. Heroism finally finds practical application."

"You people understand nothing about romance," Harvey clutched his chest.

"Romance doesn't block heat and doesn't bury anyone," I said.

"Captain, that really doesn't sound like something a fourteen-year-old girl should say."

"Want me to demonstrate with this shovel what a fourteen-year-old girl can do?"

"… No need. Very convincing." By the end, the position had actually taken shape. What had been a shallow crack barely fitting four people had become a semi-sunken trough—not impressive in depth, but enough for eight people in staggered positions along both sides. We carved head-and-shoulder rests, separating areas for sleep rotation, medical treatment, and observation. The entrance was critical. The boulder provided natural overhead cover.

We added thermal blankets, torn insulation, trimmed char-wood supports, and tape—creating a screen that could fold in or extend out. With the material half-rolled, it looked like ordinary shadow from outside, but gave us observation through two sight gaps. In emergency, one pull sealed eighty percent of the entrance; scatter some debris outside and the whole position blended into unremarkable background. Harvey secured the final pin with genuine craftsman's pride.

"Well?" He patted the screen.

"Terrible materials, but it has soul." I walked back ten meters, twenty, thirty. Actually good. Not pretty—the kind of good that was practical, ugly, and better for being ugly. I turned back and signaled approval.

"Hideous," I said. Harvey's face fell.

"You really—""But perfect." He blinked, then adopted an I knew that expression.

"Obviously. It's art." Jess stuck her head out.

"Garbage art."

"Garbage that keeps you breathing."

"I'll grant it minimal respect." From Jess, that was high praise. Maki did a final interior check.

"Eight people, barely. Extended occupation gets stuffy, but rotating the screen for watch allows ventilation. Wounded can lie flat. Watch has sightlines. Med kit left-rear, water right-rear. Acceptable flow." Akari scanned the perimeter one last time.

"This is enough." Enough. Right now, that word was better than safe or perfect or ideal. Because we didn't need perfect. We needed survivable. I crawled into our newly carved hideout one final time, back against the rock wall we'd hollowed ourselves, and looked out through the sight gap. Not a wide view. But sufficient. The burned slope ahead, visible. The distant rubble field to the right, visible. Left side: overlapping shadows from broken timber and fractured rock. If anyone approached, we'd see them first.

If a Jäger (Hunter) swept in from the rainforest, we'd have some warning. Most importantly: this wasn't in the rainforest core, wasn't near supply routes, wasn't anywhere near the obvious contested ground. Which, for us, made it just about perfect. It wasn't glorious. Not legendary. Not even remotely pretty. But it was perfect for hiding. And right now, pretty was the last thing we needed. I exhaled and shoved my pack against the inner wall.

"Done," I said.

"This is the new hideout from now on. Shifts stay the same—one on watch during the day, one resting. Double sentries at night. Keep the thermal cover half-rolled normally, leave the viewport open. If shit actually hits the fan, then we seal it completely." Harvey leaned against the entrance, working his sore wrists.

"I'm starting to think you were right to tear into us earlier."

"No shit. I'm always right."

"No, usually you're just louder than everyone else."

"Harvey."

"Right. Shutting up." Jess slid inside and stretched her legs, letting out a deeply put-upon sigh.

"I can't fucking believe this. We actually survived by digging a hole." D propped his shield against the outermost edge, like adding an extra door to the entrance.

"Haven't survived yet." Akari stood behind the half-rolled cover and glanced outside once.

"But at least right now, we won't die immediately." Roy pulled out his notebook—pure habit—ready to jot something down again. I caught a glimpse of the header and nearly laughed out loud. Sub-Rock Shelter Construction Results and Rotation Recommendations. If this guy makes it back alive, he's either going to be an officer or one of those people who turn every disaster into a spreadsheet. Linde sat back against the inner wall, wiping the ash from her temple.

"Captain."

"Yeah?"

"You actually looked the part when you were chewing us out just now." I blinked. Before I could snap back, Jess beat me to it.

"Yeah. Like one of those demon squad leaders who's somehow the youngest person there, but still jabs a finger at your nose and goes, 'Dig if you want to live.'""Is that supposed to be a compliment?" I asked. Harvey answered immediately.

"In this squad? Absolutely." I rolled my eyes, but couldn't completely kill the smirk. Outside, it was still hot. The distant rainforest still looked like a massive wound that hadn't finished burning. The Jäger (Hunter) hadn't disappeared either—they just weren't stepping directly on our heads at the moment. But right then, crammed into this shitty hole we'd dug ourselves, I felt something strange for the first time. Not safety. Safety was too expensive a luxury. We couldn't afford it yet. Just stability.

Like finally finding a blank corner on a completely fucked exam where you could at least write your name. I shifted my gaze back to the gap in the half-open cover. Scorched slope. Shattered rock. Air warped by heat waves. And then there was us. Eight people who argued, bitched, complained, dug trenches—and somehow hadn't scattered. I leaned back against the rock wall and let out a slow breath.

"Alright," I said.

"From now on, nobody complains about how ugly this place is. This is the life we dug for ourselves." This time, nobody had a comeback. Only the hot wind outside, brushing lightly past the half-open entrance.