Chapter 6

  Night Terror in the Middle of Forest

  Date: Unknown (Sixth day of Journey)

  Dawn hadn't yet broken. But something doused Hyoren from his drugged sleep. A sound. Rattling. Ccking. His makeshift arm—the bones he'd tied to the branches—shook and cttered against each other.

  Intruder.

  The fire had died. The cave y in darkness, save for a thin sliver of light seeping through the entrance.

  "Ugh..."

  He pressed a hand to his forehead. His skull throbbed like someone had filled it with broken gss.

  "My head hurts..."

  The rattling grew louder. More urgent. And beneath it—footsteps. The scrape of cws on stone. Something climbing the staircase.

  The sound cut through the fog in his brain. His eyes snapped open.

  "Goddamnit. I was careless!"

  He grabbed his spear from where it y beside the rug. He then crept toward the cave entrance and peered out.

  Two horned rabbits. They were struggling to climb the staircase, their bodies awkward on the narrow stone steps, but they were making progress. Slowly. Steadily.

  "Shit. The fire went out, so these rabbits got brave. Trying to enter my cave."

  Without the arm, they would have reached him while he slept. He would have woken to horns in his throat.

  "I'm gd I upgraded that arm yesterday."

  The lead rabbit was almost at the top. But he didn't wait.

  He thrust his spear down at the creature. The aim was sloppy—his head still swam from the drug—but the strike connected. Not a killing blow, but enough to knock the rabbit off bance.

  It tumbled backward, crashing into the one behind it. Both rabbits rolled down the staircase in a tangle of limbs and horns.

  Hyoren didn't hesitate, he jumped.

  The fall wasn't far. Gravity pulled him down, and he aimed his spear tip at the stunned rabbit below. The flint point drove through flesh and bone. The creature spasmed once and went still.

  "Now!" he yanked the spear free, blood dark on the stone.

  "One more. Come!"

  The remaining rabbit found its footing. Its crimson eyes locked onto him. It crouched, muscles coiling, and lunged. He'd seen this before. The pattern was burned into his memory now.

  He sidestepped. The horn sshed through empty air, inches from his ribs. Before the rabbit could recover, he thrust his spear into its neck.

  The creature dropped. Blood pooled on the stone. The fight was over in seconds.

  Adrenaline drained from his bloodstream. His hands trembled. His head still hurt.

  “Haah… haah… my head still hurt… damn those grey cap mushroom...”

  The sky had begun to lighten. Grey and gold beams penetrated the leaves fromthe horizon. The dual suns were rising.

  He climbed back up the staircase to his cave. The fire pit held nothing but ash and small embers. He fed it dry branches, lit the sparks back to life. Fme caught and spread, giving the cave better light and warm.

  He dropped onto the rug and stared at the fire.

  “The grey cap… it seems contain hallucinogen and sleeping drugs. That was dangerous. If I didn’t hear the arm. Those two horned rabbit would kill me on my sleep.”

  His shoulders loosened. The pain in his headbegan to fade. Outside, the dual suns crested the horizon.

  "Only one edible mushroom, it seems. The grey cap is delicious. But dangerous too. I won't trade my consciousness for good food."

  He y there for a while. Resting his body and calming down his mind. He'd gotten careless. Compcent. The forest didn't forgive mistakes. It didn't give second chances.

  ***

  As the dual suns completely rising, Hyoren feels his mind already clear. Lingering hallucinogen and sleeping drugs on his blood stream metabolized completely.

  “I was really careless. Mushroom is really dangerous. I try to pick unassuming mushroom. But two of them is…” he trailed off.

  "One made me vomit. The other knocked me out and nearly got me killed."

  He flexed his fingers, then his arms. Everything responded properly. No lingering numbness, no tremors.

  "My respect to the old people who died trying to determine which mushrooms are edible, which will kill them, and which will send them to a partial world."

  He pushed himself to his feet. A slight wobble, but his legs held.

  "No aftereffects, I think."

  As he stretched, his joints popping.

  "But I'll let myself rest today. I've still got plenty of smoked meat, fruits, and mushrooms… Edible mushrooms. And five days of constant exploring and hunting are starting to take a toll on me."

  The roar of the waterfall drifted through the entrance. He walked to the cave mouth and looked out.

  His makeshift arm swayed gently in the breeze. The bones cttered softly—a comforting sound now. His lifesaver.

  His eyes fell on the two rabbit carcasses lying at the base of the staircase. Blood had dried on their fur.

  “I don’t have energy to dissect it. I will let slimes eat it. I want to just rest in cave for a while.”

  He turned back inside.

  The morning passed slowly. He moved through the cave, checking his inventory. The stone shelves held his supplies—rabbit leather pelts stacked in one corner, smoked meat hanging from hooks he'd carved, edible fruits and mushrooms stored in the shelves.

  “Leather, still plenty. Smoked meat, can st me for five days. Fruits and mushrooms… I need to gather more as I only pick few yesterday.”

  Then he turned to his weapons. The spear still held together. He examined the flint head, testing its edge against his thumb. Sharp. The resin from the creeping vines had hardened around the binding, securing it firmly in pce.

  "Good. Still solid."

  The skinning knife came next. No chips. No cracks. The edge gleamed in the firelight.

  "Inventory and weapon check done. What should I do next?"

  He didn't want to ze around all day. But the thought of exploring the forest again made his muscles ache.

  "No..."

  He shook his head.

  "I need to rest."

  His eyes wandered across the cave, searching for something to occupy his mind.

  "Right… I need to log myself. Create some kind of daily record. Before I lose myself to this isotion."

  He grabbed one of the rabbit pelts—the least useful one, scarred and uneven—and spread it on the cave floor. The leather was rough, but it would hold charcoal.

  He dug through the ash near his fire pit until he found a suitable piece of charcoal. It was brittle, but it left dark marks when he pressed it against the hide.

  “I arrive in this world six days ago,” he make six marker on top of the pelt, indicating days

  “What should I write more? Okay the monster. To keep track”

  He started a list. Horned Rabbit. Slime. Creeping Vines. Mossback Squirrel. Red Pike Fish.

  “Other than red pike which give two, all give one essence. Then their behavior and loot…”

  He added notes beneath each name, describing their behavior. Where they were found. What they dropped. The charcoal scratched against the leather as he wrote. He paused occasionally to nibble on a melopple, the refreshing taste keeping his mind sharp.

  Next came pnts and mushrooms. He drew rough sketches—brown cap mushrooms on logs, the deceptive brown-white cap that grew on soil, the grey cap that had nearly killed him. He noted locations. Warning signs. What to avoid.

  The work consumed him. He lost track of time as he filled the leather with notes and diagrams, building his own personal encyclopedia. He stretched occasionally. Ate more fruit. Fetched water from the river when his throat grew dry.

  By the time he finished, the dual suns had begun their descent.

  "Okay." He sat back, examining his work. "What's next?"

  His eyes scanned the perimeter of the cave.

  “I should create a map. Around my cave. I haven’t explore far, but soon I need to explore farther, to look for ndmark, to know more about this forest.”

  He took a bit bigger and ftter leather, spread it on the floor. And start by putting X in the middle, his cave. Then he draw winding river from south to north.

  “This is my cave. I found mushroom on upstream, south of my cave,” he draw small mushrom mark on the south.

  "The east and north are pgued by horned rabbits."

  He drew rough circles to indicate the areas.

  "And the west... fruit trees and berries. Territory of the Mossback Squirrels."

  He paused, charcoal hovering over the leather.

  "But well, actually..."

  A dry ugh escaped him.

  "Every direction has horned rabbits. Hahaha. They're truly pests. The only things managing to cull them are the creeping vines, but those are sparse. No wonder the rabbits proliferate."

  Night fell as he worked. He added details by firelight—the approximate location of the squirrel territory, the mushroom grounds, the treacherous parts of the river where the Red Pike swarmed.

  When he finished, he sat back and admired the map. Crude, but functional. A foundation to build on.

  He fed the fire with more branches, coaxing the fmes higher.

  Dinner was smoked rabbit meat and roasted brown cap mushrooms. Simple, but satisfying.

  “I done resting, tomorrow I will start exploring more about this forest.”

  He y down on his makeshift bed. The stacked rabbit pelts provided some cushioning against the hard stone.

  But he wouldn't repeat st night's mistake. He checked the fire—strong enough to st until morning. He checked the entrance—clear. He checked his spear—within arm's reach.

  Then, and only then, did he let himself drift into soldier's sleep.

  ***

  Hyoren woke up.

  He was in a bookstore in Akihabara. The familiar smell of paper and ink. Fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. Shelves packed with colorful covers. He held a newly released novel in his hands—the test volume of his favorite series. Excitement bubbled in his chest.

  "Finally... the release date."

  He turned the book over. Reading the synopsis on the back. His fingers traced the glossy cover art.

  Scenery blurred.

  He was in his room. The glow of his computer screen illuminating the darkness. His fingers moved across the keyboard. Clicking. Tapping. The game on his monitor demanded his attention. His father was not around. No one to drag him to survival training. No harsh lessons in the wilderness. Just him and his game.

  Freedom. Sweet, comfortable freedom.

  Another blur.

  He was eating ramen with his buddy in a small shop. Steam rising from the bowls. The rich smell of pork broth. Chopsticks clicking against ceramic.

  "So did you beat the boss yet?"

  His friend's voice. Casual. Carefree.

  "Not yet. The mechanics are brutal."

  They ughed. Talked about the game they would py on the weekend. No worries. No responsibilities. Just two friends sharing a meal.

  Scenery blurred again. The atmosphere became more vivid. Sharper.

  The hospital.

  The sharp smell of antiseptic. Stinging his nostrils. White walls. White ceiling. White sheets. The steady beep of machines. Nurses and doctors moving in the hallway. Their footsteps hurried. Their voices hushed.

  Hyoren was crying. Wailing. The sound tore from his throat—raw and broken.

  His father y unmoving on the hospital bed. Pale. Still. Tubes and wires connected to his body. The rise and fall of his chest so shallow it was barely visible.

  "Dad... please... don't go..."

  The words came out strangled. Desperate.

  The monitor beeped. A ft line. The doctors rushed in. But it was too te.

  The scene moved instantly.

  Funeral.

  He was holding his father's portrait. The weight of it in his hands. His arms trembling. Bck clothes. Bck suits. Bck dresses. Every acquaintance coming forward. Offering condolences. Giving him encouraging words that felt hollow.

  "Stay strong."

  "He was a good man."

  "He would be proud of you."

  Their voices blended together. A meaningless murmur.

  Then his tear-streaked face turned determined. The moment he resolved to study medicine. To become a doctor. To save people. To honor his father's memory.

  The scene blurred again. Becoming reddish. Tinted with anger.

  A woman.

  A familiar woman. Neat and tidy looks. Bob-cut hair framing her face. But her face was blurred. Unfocused. Like a smudge on a photograph. She was holding another man's arm. Flirting. Laughing. Her body pressed close to his.

  Her voice was distorted. Warped. Like hearing words through water. She pointed her finger at Hyoren. Mocking.

  The words were unintelligible. But the meaning was clear. Betrayal. Humiliation.

  Her voice and face were blurry and distorted. But he knew exactly who it was. Kana Matsuyama.

  Rage bubbled from deep inside his heart. Rising. Boiling. His chest burned with it. His fists clenched until his knuckles turned white.

  He repyed his trauma. Again. And again. The image of her with another man. The sound of her mocking ughter. The feeling of worthlessness that followed.

  ***

  Hyoren woke from his soldier's sleep.

  Not from the rattle of his arm. Not from the sound of intruders. But from something worse.

  A nightmare.

  His heart beat at an arming rate. Thumping against his ribs. His back was soaked with sweat—the rabbit pelts beneath him damp and clinging to his skin. For a moment, he didn't know where he was. The cave walls seemed foreign. The darkness pressed in on him like a living thing. Strange shadows. Strange sounds. The roar of the waterfall echoing in the distance.

  He forced himself to breathe.

  In. Out. In. Out.

  Slowly, the panic receded. His surroundings came into focus. The stone ceiling above him. The dying embers of his fire. The smell of smoke and animal fat.

  "Damn..."

  He pressed a hand to his chest. Feeling his heartbeat slowly begin to steady. The rhythm returning to normal.

  "Now of all times. Is it because I hallucinated about Earth st night?"

  The dream lingered at the edges of his mind. Familiar streets. Neon signs. Voices calling his name. Faces he recognized but couldn't quite pce.

  He stared at the ceiling of the cave. Letting the dream fade. And allowed himself to remember.

  Earth.

  His friends from university. The cramped lecture halls where he'd half-listened to professors while scrolling through his phone. The narrow streets of Akihabara—crowded with shops selling games and figures and manga. His favorite stores. The little ramen pce on the corner. Wooden counter. Steam rising from the broth. The old man behind the counter who always gave him extra chashu.

  He could almost smell it. The salt. The pork fat. The warmth of a life he might never see again.

  "I thought I'd already made amends. But it seems survival just buried my feeling of homesickness."

  He sat up slowly. The fire still burned. Casting faint orange shadows across the stone. Outside, the waterfall roared. Constant. Unchanging.

  He wrapped his arms around his knees and stared at the fmes.

  "I don't have anyone else on Earth. Both my father and mother are already left..."

  His father. Who had taught him everything about survival. Who had dragged him into the woods. Made him learn to skin animals and build fires and identify pnts. The harsh lessons that now kept him alive.

  Gone.

  His mother. Who he barely remembered. She had died when he was still a baby. A faint face. A soft voice. Nothing more than fragments.

  Gone.

  "Friends... I have some I can call friends. But we only talked a lot because we loved games and novels. Shared hobbies, not shared lives."

  Six days of constant alert. Six days of isotion. Six days of survival mode—pushing down every thought that wasn't immediately useful.

  And then the hallucinogen had cracked something open. The isotion was eating away at him. The constant vigince. The loneliness.

  And then another memory surfaced.

  His lover who had betrayed him.

  "Kana..."

  He spat the word like a curse.

  "Fuck that bitch."

  The anger came hot and fast. Burning through the fog of homesickness. He remembered her face. The way she smiled at him. Talked to him. His supposed childhood friend and lover—until the betrayal opened his eyes and traumatized him at the same time. Six months ago.

  The memories flooded back. Finding her with another man. Her mocking ughter. The cruel words she had thrown at him. The way she had twisted everything—made him feel worthless. Made him doubt everything about himself.

  But strangely, the anger calmed him. Focused him. The survival instinct that had kept him alive for six days surged back—sharpened by rage.

  "Focus. I don't know if I can go back to Earth. I should assume I can't."

  He looked at the cave around him. The fire. The weapons. The map he'd drawn on leather. The pelts hanging from frames. The supplies he had gathered.

  This was his life now. This cave. This forest. These monsters.

  "Prioritize. Survive. That's what matters now."

  He y back down on the pelts. Pulling a rough bnket of cured leather over himself. His heartbeat had returned to normal. The sweat on his back was cooling in the night air.

  "I should not worry about something I can't change. I'm already living in this new world. I won't forget about Earth. More like I can't. But I will prioritize living in this world from now on."

  He closed his eyes. Soldier's sleep. Light. Alert. Ready to wake at the first sign of danger.

  But now, a fire burned in his chest that had nothing to do with the fmes in the hearth.

  He would survive this forest. He would grow stronger.