Rise In The Apocalypse

Chapter 4: SSS?

Max immediately focused on the panel again, his gaze locking onto the Talent section.

[ Talent: Infinite Cache (SSS) ]

SSS? Max felt a surge of excitement rush through him. In almost every game he had ever played, an SSS rating meant the absolute top tier.

"Let’s see, then." he muttered, tapping on the talent to read its description.

[ Infinite Cache (SSS): You may claim an unlimited number of Caches whenever you wish. There are no limits on frequency, quantity, or category. This talent provides continuous access to resources, guaranteeing that Caches remain available whenever you decide to obtain them. ]

Max stared at the words.

Even though the name had already hinted at it, seeing the description spelled out still left him stunned.

"Unlimited… Caches?"

His pulse quickened as the meaning truly settled in. He could hear the thumping of his own heartbeat.

This ability… it was incredible.

He could claim as many Caches as he wanted—no cooldowns, no restrictions, no caps of any kind.

Sure, it didn’t grant him superhuman strength or flashy combat powers, but even so… this was ridiculous.

A slow grin spread across his face.

"This is insane. Even if it doesn’t boost my strength directly, unlimited supplies… that’s already enough to survive."

He clenched his hands, forcing himself to settle down.

Now he would have endless access to food, tools, and equipment. It might get repetitive, but that didn’t matter. He could gather resources, prepare in advance, and adjust to whatever came his way.

Still, the smile on his face dimmed slightly when he remembered the warning about the upcoming Mech Siege.

"Resources alone won’t beat machines," he muttered. "I’ll need weapons… tactics… maybe even allies. I’ve got three days of Beginner Protection to figure something out."

Max dismissed the panel, then paused.

"...Wait. If it’s truly unlimited, I should test it."

[ Cache Selection ]

The message appeared the moment he activated his Talent with a thought.

A new list unfolded in front of him.

[ Basic Cache Selection ]

[ Energy Cache ]

[ Entertainment Cache ]

[ Food Cache ]

[ Medical Cache ]

[ Shelter Cache ]

[ Stealth Cache ]

[ Survival Tools Cache ]

[ Transport Cache ]

[ Water Cache ]

[ Weapon Cache ]

"Hold on… it says Basic Cache Selection," Max murmured, noticing the phrasing.

"Does that mean there are Intermediate or Advanced Caches too?"

The idea sparked a bit of hope.

After all, if the enemies were A.I. machines—androids or mechanical drones—then fighting them with nothing but a pistol or a hatchet would be incredibly difficult.

Still, he quickly selected the weapons pack.

[ You have claimed a Weapons Cache (Basic). ]

A moment later, the new item appeared inside his inventory.

[ Inventory:

Survival Tools Cache (Basic) ×1

Weapons Cache (Basic) ×1 ]

Max nodded slightly.

"It worked… I actually got another one."

He crouched down and opened the Survival Tools Cache first, selecting it from his inventory.

A prompt appeared immediately.

[ Do you want to open the Survival Tools Cache? ]

Max tapped yes without hesitation.

A faint glow appeared in front of him before solidifying into several objects placed neatly on the ground.

The rope was coiled tightly. It looked rough but strong. Max loosened part of it, running his fingers along the fibers as he estimated the length.

"So… around ten meters," he muttered. "Not bad."

That detail hadn’t been included in the original description.

Next, he inspected the thermal blanket.

Unfolding it carefully, he realized it was larger than he expected—big enough to wrap around his entire body, maybe even twice.

"This could save me during freezing nights," he thought, folding it back into a compact shape.

The fire starter came next. It was a small magnesium rod paired with a striker. He weighed it in his hand, imagining the sparks it would produce when scraped.

It felt solid.

The compass looked exactly how he expected—simple but reliable.

Then he examined the pocket knife.

With a quick flick, the blade snapped open smoothly, its edge gleaming sharp.

Finally, the whistle.

He frowned slightly.

It might help in emergencies, but using it could also attract unwanted attention—from both survivors and enemies.

After that, he opened the Weapons Cache.

The first thing he checked was the revolver.

"...Well," Max said with a faint, helpless smile.

He had been hoping for something more modern—a semi-automatic handgun perhaps—but this would still work.

He just needed to watch out for the recoil.

Opening the cylinder, he confirmed that six bullets were already loaded, just as the description had stated.

Beside it sat a small box of spare ammunition.

He counted quickly.

"Twelve rounds… not bad."

The holster was simple leather, sturdy enough to fasten to his belt.

Max slid the revolver inside, adjusting it until it rested snugly against his hip.

Lastly, he picked up the hatchet.

It was small, but surprisingly heavy. The blade was sharp enough to split wood—or bone.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

He gave it a few experimental swings before hooking it onto his belt.

After that, he tried returning the remaining items to his inventory, but the system stopped him.

[ Notice: Items obtained from Caches cannot be returned to Inventory. ]

Max rolled his eyes.

"So picky…"

Still, he glanced down at his pants.

Six pockets in total.

He distributed the smaller items carefully—the compass and whistle went into his left pocket, while the fire starter and pocket knife went into the right. The rope he looped and secured to his belt.

As for the folded thermal blanket, Max decided not to carry it for now.

Instead, he placed it carefully on the ground to mark his spawn point.

The wind tugged lightly at its edges as if trying to carry it away, so Max crouched and slid part of the blanket beneath a nearby mound of trash.

To secure it further, he grabbed a broken chair leg from the garbage heap and pressed it firmly across the top.

"There," he muttered.

It wasn’t pretty, but at least the blanket wouldn’t blow away or disappear among the shifting piles of trash.

Now he had a clear marker showing the exact place where he had first arrived.