As evening came, I decided to create a base with my inventory full of loot from the players I had killed. I found a bus stop and decided to make my first base there. I crafted my building plan, hammer, tool cupboard, door, and a key lock so that people could not get into my base. I built and upgraded my first base on this wipe. I crafted a few small wooden boxes to store all of my loot. I placed the tool cupboard and placed everything material-wise that I had into it. I stored the rest of the loot inside of the boxes.
Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice... It was one of the players I had killed! They knew exactly where I lived and this was sort of a bad thing. Are they good enough to make a play and steal all of my hard earned loot? Were they going to wait until they had the explosives to raid my base? Were they going to leave me alone? All of these questions and more were flying throughout my head. I then heard my mom call me and tell me that I had to go to bed. I logged off for the night.
YOU ARE READING
Rust - An adventure that will never be forgotten...
ActionThis is my second story. Most of this story will be created on my phone, so do not judge the autocorrect! This is a story about a significant person, me, who spawns into a newly wiped server. PLEASE DO NOT JUDGE CRINGINESS!
