It’s been a month since that night on the I-49, and the memory of it lingers—like a bad taste that won’t wash away. Contracts are unpredictable, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that luck only carries you so far. I survived that one by the skin of my teeth, but I’m not naive enough to think that will happen again. If I’m going to keep going, I need to be tougher, smarter, and a hell of a lot more prepared.

So, I invested in some equipment—real, solid gear. I bought body armor, the kind that’s lightweight but strong enough to stop a bullet. Survival gear, too. Stuff that could keep me alive when things go sideways. I even picked up throwing knives. Never thought I’d be the type to carry something like that, but in this world, you adapt or you die.

I’ve been training every day, pushing my limits. Running, lifting, practicing with the knives—anything to build myself up. I don’t fool myself into thinking I’m a fighter. That’s not who I am, and it never will be. But contracts aren’t forgiving, and I can’t afford to rely on charm and persuasion alone. Resilience. That’s the key. I need to be able to take the hits, roll with them, and keep going.

I’m not aiming to become a combatant. I don’t need to be a warrior, just... capable. Capable of surviving, capable of handling whatever comes next. Because this new world? It’s brutal. And if I’m going to find the answers I’m looking for, I need to make sure I’m still standing when the dust settles.