FREE USE in Primitive World

He closed his eyes again, diving deep. He navigated the library of his own mind, pulling books off the shelves of his subconscious.

Shelf: Construction.

He pulled up a video he had watched once at 4 AM… “How to build a log cabin with interlocking joints.” He watched it play in his head. He paused it. He zoomed in on the notch technique. He understood the load-bearing physics instantly.

The Osari tribe lived in huts made of mud and woven grass that leaked when it rained, smelled of rot, and collapsed when the wind blew too hard. They were glorified nests.

“I can build a fortress,” Sol realized. “I can build a two-story house with insulation, a chimney that actually draws smoke out, and a drainage system so we aren’t sleeping in damp earth. I can build a kiln to fire real bricks.”

He saw the blueprints for a mortar mixture… lime, sand, water. He saw the design for a roof truss that could support heavy snow or the weight of a prowling beast.

He went further. He accessed the deep lore of his procrastination. The engineering channels.

Shelf: Mechanics.

He pulled up a diagram of a water wheel he had watched an animation of once. He saw the gears. He saw the transfer of kinetic energy from lateral motion to vertical force.

The tribe cracked nuts and roots by hand, smashing rocks together for hours. It was back-breaking, inefficient labor that fell mostly on the women.

“I can build a mill,” Sol muttered, his fingers twitching as he traced invisible blueprints in the air. “I can harness the river. Automatic grinding. Automatic trip-hammers for forging. I can build a bellows system that gets a fire hot enough to melt iron, not just copper.”

He thought about the “pulley.” A simple concept, unknown to the Osari. With a pulley, he could lift heavy game, move stone blocks, and build walls higher than any ladder could reach.

He pulled up a documentary on early industrialization. He saw the schematics of a water wheel. He saw the diagram of a basic blast furnace.

“I thought I was just strong,” Sol laughed, the sound echoing in the ravine. “But this… this is the real cheat.”

“But let’s forget gunpowder and shit, not like I remember it.”

He then remembered a video about the “Ram Pump”… a device that uses the force of flowing water to pump water uphill without electricity.

“Indoor plumbing,” Sol breathed. “I can give Lyra running water in the kitchen. I can irrigate the crops.”

He hurriedly checked the shelves he was most concerned about, as they would be incredibly helpful until he became strong enough.

Shelf: Weaponry.

He remembered his bone dagger. It was sharp, sure, but it was primitive. It relied on brute force and close range. It was a tool for a savage.

He accessed a memory of a compound bow. The pulley system. The mechanical advantage that allowed a weaker man to draw a string with the force of a giant. He accessed a video on how to make a repeating crossbow—the Chu Ko Nu—using bamboo and sinew.

He accessed the design for a trebuchet. A ballista.

“With this, I think I don’t even need Divine Skills,” Sol whispered, a terrifying light igniting in his crimson eyes. “I have Science. I have Physics. I have the accumulated knowledge of five thousand years of human history.”

The Titans had their World-Forge. The Elves had their sung-wood palaces. The Elementals had their raw magic.

But humanity? Humanity had leverage. Humanity had gears. Humanity had the ability to take the laws of the universe and bend them until they screamed.

Sol stood up and began to pace the dais, his mind racing at a million miles an hour. He felt like a god who had just remembered where he left his thunderbolts.

He thought about the trap the tribe used. Before, it was relying on a simple ambush… a rock, a snake, a stab in the dark. It was risky. It was messy.

But now?

He recalled a video on “Ancient Vietnamese Traps.” The figure-four deadfall. The torsion spring snare. The spiked pit with a counterweight cover that reset itself after the victim fell in. The Malay tiger pit.

He could turn the jungle into a machine of death. He wouldn’t be hunted by others; he would be engineering their demise. He could create a kill zone where even a massive beast would be dead three times over before he even realized he was under attack.

And it wasn’t just violence. It was comfort.