The road became a relentless teacher. Jack drove, conserving fuel and water, the only constants in a world where civilization had been reduced to scattered wreckage. Days blurred into a rhythm of driving, scavenging, and sleeping in the cramped cab of the delivery truck. The Hunter's Edge system became an extension of his senses.
Jack relied heavily on Resource Scenting. He learned to ignore the obvious, ransacked gas stations, trusting the subtle "pings" of his system to lead him to forgotten caches or buried fuel tanks beneath ruined highway exits. His inventory stabilized, a testament to his efficiency. He wasn't thriving, but he was surviving better than the desperate figures he occasionally saw wandering the roadside. The experience points accrued steadily in his interface, a silent tally of his success.
The environment was brutal but predictable in its instability. Jack learned to read the sky for the warning signs of a Solar Pulse Storm, pulling his truck under bridges when the air began to hum with static. He was adapting, his instincts sharpening with every mile.