"You piece of shit ... really?"Hikaru stared at the rabbit monster with a look of deep embarrassment and rising irritation. Heaven knows ,he was in the most vulnerable position a human could be in and this red-eyed pest was looking at him like he was a buffet.
The rabbit didn't care about his dignity. It lunged, a blur of fur and teeth."Not today!" Hikaru hissed.
Even while squatting, his new strength responded. He rolled to the side, his boots sliding in the mud as he narrowly avoided the snap of the rabbit's jaws. He didn't even have his spear, he had left it leaning against a nearby tree. He grabbed the only thing within reach: a heavy, jagged river stone.
As the rabbit turned for a second pass, Hikaru met it mid air. He didn't just throw the stone; he drove it forward with his palm. Crack.Headshot.....The rabbit dropped instantly, its skull was no match for the "Level Up" power now that was coursing through Hikaru's arms. He stood up, quickly finishing his business and fixing his clothes, his heart hammering- not from fear, but from the sheer absurdity of the encounter.
"Can't even have a moment of peace, for God's sake," he muttered, shaking his head.
He headed to the river, the bone-chilling water finally washing away the grime and blood of the wolf fight. As he scrubbed his skin, he looked at his wrist. The tattoo was gone, but the feeling stayed like a steady, humming energy. He felt lighter, his movements sharper, as if the forest air had become easier to breathe.
Once after he cleaned himself, he went back to the site of the wolf kill. Using a thick, sturdy branch and some dried vines, he tied the wolf and the fresh rabbits into a heavy bundle. Slung over his shoulder, the weight that should have strained his back felt... right.
Back at his shelter, the "Productive " phase began. He rebuilt his fire, the fiery flames licking at the darkening sky. He began the long process of roasting and smoking the meat for storage, the scent of sizzling fat filling the camp.
As the meat smoked, Hikaru found himself humming a soft pop melody ,a song from a world of headphones and rainy bus rides. His voice was low, a human sound reclaiming a piece of the wild. "Into the unknown , as bird flying high!!! oh...wooah....woahhh..!!!!!"He didn't stay idle; he took the bones from the wolf and began to carve carefully. He fashioned a second spear, a "Version 2.0" or something that was better balanced and sharper than the first version.
Restless energy pushed him further. He buried a portion of the cooked meat in clean ashes to preserve it, then scouted the nearby area. Near a damp bank, luck struck again. His boots sank into a heavy Clay.
He dug into the bank, gathering the thick mud and wrapping it in massive, waxy leaves. He even found some wild, leafy greens and herbs to add to his stores. By the time the evening passed into bitter shadows , Hikaru was back at his tree, surrounded by treasures: clay for pots, herbs for flavor, and the heavy wolf hide he was currently scraping to make a proper bedsheet.
He looked at his hands, at the steadiness and the strength that wasn't there before.
"...guess I'm really starting to flow now," he whispered. He wasn't just surviving anymore; he was building something similar to a home.
Meanwhile in the far distant forest , a couple of Kilometer away..."ah..wa..wa... I can't do this anymore! My boots are ruined......I'm pretty sure that 'rabbit' almost took my thumb off!"
The cry echoed through a much darker, much more terrifying version of the woods. A group of four adventurers stood in a panicked circle, gasping for air. At their feet lay a single, mangled rabbit monster.
They had spent two hours chasing it. They had used three spells and one broken shield just to bring it down.
"Shut up and keep your guard up , useless fellow," the leader hissed, his sword trembling. "This is indeed the 'Death-Blight' sector of the forest. Almost nothing survives here for long. We kill, we harvest, and we get out before something bigger finds us."
He looked at the lone rabbit and shuddered. To them, the forest was a nightmare.
They had no idea that ten kilometers away, a man was currently singing to his pottery, sleeping on a bed of wolf-skin, and wondering if he could find enough wild ginger to make his dinner perfect.