In that split second, suspended on the razor's edge of life and death, reality hit Byeon like a physical blow.
His heart hammered violently against his ribs. His right shoulder was slick with hot, pouring blood. A sudden, visceral chill washed over him, as if his very skin were crawling off his body. It wasn't a premonition—it was absolute, terrifying lucidity.
In an instant, his casual attitude evaporated. All the manga he had ever read, all the tropes he had memorized, meant absolutely nothing. Those stories didn't dictate what a life in another world would actually be like. There was no plot armor here. This was his real, fragile life. This was an isekai—but it was his own brutal version of it.
Byeon stared blankly at the swaying grass and towering leaves. The trees here were colossal, magnitudes larger than anything on Earth. They were dark, massive, and choked with a strange, fluffy moss that completely blotted out the sky. Underneath this suffocating canopy, day and night lost all meaning. You couldn't tell if the sun was up or if darkness had already fallen.
Screw it, he thought, panic finally breaking through his shock.
"Damn, that was so cool! How did you even do that?!" Byeon yelled, his voice cracking. "That monster was taller than any of us—not that we're particularly tall, but still! Wait... we're forgetting something major here. I got chomped! Help me!"
Robert, however, didn't move to help immediately. He kept his distance, his eyes locked on Byeon with deep suspicion. He didn't trust this stranger for a second, terrified that the moment he turned his back, he'd get stabbed. Byeon was a complete stranger...
Kneeling down, Robert began a rough, aggressive search of the injured man, trying to override his own instinct to just run away.
Yes even making him forcefully wear out his shoes.
What?...
You wouldnt know if someone hides a weapon inside pockets, shoes, hair. Or the weird angle clothes can cover on weapons.
"Hey! What are you doing?!" Byeon squealed. "There's an injured man right here! Emergency!"
Robert ignored him, concluding his quick pat-down. The man had no weapons. Not even a pocket knife. It was deeply unsettling; even a common villager carried something to protect themselves. No one could be so utterly naive or stupid to wander into these woods entirely defenseless, as if they had never encountered a lethal predator in their entire life.
Shaking his head, Robert finally inspected the wound. It was a severe crush avulsion from a monster's jaws, leaving extensive soft-tissue damage and deep, jagged lacerations.
Amateurs believed the myth that you should burn a wound like this to cauterize it. Robert knew better. Searing the flesh just created a dead, blackened environment—a perfect breeding ground for deep-tissue infections that the body could never heal on its own.
Reluctantly, Robert pulled out a packet of active fibrotic, antibacterial herbs that soldiers frequently gathered in the wild. But the damage was too deep for herbs alone. With a quiet groan of frustration, Robert drew a vial of a third-grade healing potion from his belt. It was a cheap emergency ration meant for frontline soldiers, and it felt like a shameful waste to use it on an unknown foreigner.
"Hold still for a moment," Robert muttered, drawing a hunting knife.
Byeon flinched, his eyes widening in sheer terror. It won't end like this, right?! I'm not about to get murdered by my savior, am I?!
Instead of cutting him, Robert used the knife to cleanly slice away the fabric of Byeon's right sleeve, exposing the mangled shoulder completely. Then, he poured the potion.
Byeon gasped as the raw magic forced his flesh to violently knit itself back together. It wasn't a clean, magical erasure of the injury; the low-grade potion left a thick, massive, rigid fibrotic scab in its wake. Robert quickly grabbed a sturdy stick to stabilize the arm, wrapping it tightly with clean cloths.
"I don't have any high-grade inscriptions or talismans to give you a proper recovery," Robert said coldly, standing up and dusting off his knees. "You can walk on your own."
Byeon winced, adjusting to the stiff, throbbing weight of his newly bound arm. He was deeply annoyed by the rough treatment. Back in the modern world, an injury like this would have put him straight into the Intensive Care Unit.
"Well... thanks anyway," Byeon mumbled.
Robert didn't answer. He was already scanning the perimeter, his eyes darting through the brush, still hyper-vigilant for the monster. "Are you from the Witch Town?"
Byeon blinked. Who is this guy? Is he from there? If Robert actually belonged to the town, he'd easily spot that Byeon was an outsider. But Byeon had to play along.
"Well, yeah!" Byeon lied, trying to sound confident.
"Take me there," Robert ordered.
As they turned to leave, Byeon noticed that Robert's hands were still trembling. Sweat poured down the man's neck. He was clearly terrified, desperately trying to project a facade that everything was under control.
"We better hurry," Robert whispered urgently. "The bipedal monsters will surround this area any minute now."
Byeon frowned, utterly confused. "What do you mean?"
Robert stared at him, a flicker of disgust crossing his face. Is this guy serious? Is he even a hunter? Byeon's ignorance was so profound it bordered on suicidal. "They communicate with each other," Robert snapped.
Not wanting to waste time... But gratefull that he was being lead... To where?
They moved out, navigating the dense forest at a frantic pace. Internally, Robert felt a sudden, hysterical surge of relief. He cackled silently to himself. I survived. I actually survived again. Those bird monsters won't be picking my corpse clean today.
A few paces behind him, Byeon trudged along, thoroughly miserable. He was incredibly annoyed that he had the absolute worst luck—dropped into a fantasy world without a single cheat power or special ability.
All he had ever wanted was peace of mind. As long as his basic needs were met, he was content. But now? This world was proving to be a massive, life-threatening hurdle to his dream of a comfortable life.