f there was anyone out there who understood the anger that the system's new rules had caused, it would be two very distinct and very different groups of people: Gun nuts, who even now still complained about how the system was 'Violating their rights' or some asinine argument like that. And then, people like her. Nomads who had lived their entire lives out of one vehicle or another. People who had put all of their hopes and feelings, dreams and ideals on the back of four or more wheels. For those people, the system had taken everything they had.

She'd seen a good handful of names she recognized from the days before the world had completely shifted populating the ranks of the listed casualties of 'failed' tutorials. She supposed she understood. It was hard to accept that your entire livelihood had been yanked out from under you. But then, she'd been one of the lucky ones. The system had seemingly only been able to pull on her lived experience as a nomad to generate her classes, and the one that had been most appealing to her by name alone was one that allowed her to keep at least some semblance of advanced transportation.

Unfortunately, it wasn't much faster than walking anywhere. In a way, it felt like the system was mocking her. Sure, she could have her vehicles. But there were going to be some terms and conditions. Perhaps that was why she hadn't bothered to spawn in a vehicle this time, and had chosen to just walk. If anything decided to fight her, she could always just summon something portable and thwack it with that. But she also couldn't bring herself to fully give up on some of her old hobbies.

The part of nomad life that had been most intriguing to her had been all of the tinkering. The slight adjustments to get just that little bit of extra life, extra power, extra comfort. It was why she'd found herself continuing to wander the countryside of England. After all, if the system had been unable to completely rewrite the memories and life of a single individual, what were the odds that it could completely remove the entirety of any trace of modern society from the entirety of a country?

That thought was what had driven her to begin a search of her own. There were no real scrapyards to be found still. The mere concept seemed to have been overtaken by the natural world that the system had promoted. That was when it finally caught her eye. An unnatural glint in the distance, as well as the faint sound of metal smacking against metal. She found herself picking up the pace, turning from a casual walk into a jog. Someone had beat her to this pile, and she was gonna be damned if that meant she missed out on having something to do with her free time that wasn't trying to hunt down and kill monsters.

From the direction she had approached, she couldn't see anyone. It sounded like they were on the other side of the small hill of scrap. In the grand scheme, compared to old scrapyards? This was a relatively small pile of scrap. But it was still enough scrap to make an artificial hill in the flat plains of the countryside. Serafina didn't miss a beat. With a smirk spreading across her lips, she slowly began to ascend the hill, taking a seat on an old bike seat that was sticking out of the top, right next to a bit of car frame that had been sandblasted to a mirror shine. As she looked down, she saw him. Some random guy she didn't quite recognize. Though, she certainly got the odd feeling that she should have.

"Looking for something down there?" She called out, the question doused in a lightly teasing tone.