There were many things Eren expected to do in a fantasy world: plant vegetables, survive awkward eye contact, maybe milk a cow with dignity.
Wrestling a psychotic chicken was not on that list.
And yet, here he was—sleeves rolled up, eyes narrowed, staring at a puffed-up ball of feathers perched on top of his barn like it ruled the damn kingdom.
"I swear to God, if you flap at me one more time—"
[New Objective: Domesticate livestock to unlock Basic Animal Husbandry]
Eren slowly turned to the floating blue box and muttered, "I'll domesticate it alright—straight into a stewpot."
Lira stood beside him, arms folded like a medieval fashion model crossed with an emotionless AI. "You are failing to assert dominance over a tier-one poultry, Eren. Statistically, this is concerning."
"It's not a chicken, it's a demon in cosplay," he snapped, ducking as the beast launched another aerial assault. "Also, maybe stop giving me system notifications after the trauma starts?"
Lira blinked. "Feedback logged."
The chicken squawked like a war trumpet and dive-bombed Eren's head again, claws first.
It had started with a harmless idea: "Let's raise chickens."
Mira had been so excited, she'd even drawn up a little pen beside the barn. The coop looked adorable, with straw bedding and a tiny wooden ramp like a poultry hotel. Eren had walked into the market, bartered like a pro, and returned with a caged hen.
He named it Cluck Norris.
Big mistake.
Now Cluck Norris had pecked three holes in his pants, scratched a town guard's face, and somehow unlocked a goddamn evasion pattern more complex than most martial artists.
"Just give me the egg," Eren growled.
The chicken blinked at him from its rooftop perch. No movement. No squawk.
Just silence.
Eren narrowed his eyes.
It was...smirking.
"This is psychological warfare."
"Do you wish to engage Combat Farming Mode?" Lira asked.
"That's a real thing?"
"No. But your frustration level reached 74%."
Eren sighed, taking a slow breath. "Fine. We'll do this the smart way."
He stepped back, reached into the basket Mira had packed that morning, and pulled out his secret weapon: sun-dried corn with honey glaze.
Cluck Norris twitched.
"Oh yeah," Eren grinned. "Smells like betrayal, doesn't it?"
The chicken hopped down from the roof slowly, one claw at a time, like a kung-fu master descending the dojo stairs. Its eyes locked on the corn like it was Eren's soul incarnate.
Just a little closer...
[Taming Progress: 38%]
"Almost there, you feathered little devil," he whispered.
And then—whap!
Mira clapped a wooden basket over the chicken like a ninja ambushing a rice thief.
It squawked, flapped once, and went still.
Eren blinked.
Mira beamed. "I used grandma's bread-snatching trick!"
Later that night, Cluck Norris was safely secured inside the coop. Eren sat on the porch steps, his pants patched up, pride slightly intact.
"Alright, Lira," he muttered. "Give me the skill."
[Skill Unlocked: Basic Animal Husbandry]
[You can now care for livestock, collect eggs, milk cows, and process animal goods.]
"Please define 'process animal goods'," Eren muttered suspiciously.
"Slaughtering, drying, or converting byproducts," Lira replied. "You are now legally qualified to make bacon."
"Excellent," he deadpanned. "Finally, I've reached the career peak of a fantasy butcher."
Mira stepped outside with two cups of tea, handing him one with both hands. "You did good today."
"Thanks," he said, sipping. "Still pretty sure I was outwitted by a bird."
She smiled, sitting beside him. "Even so, you didn't give up. That matters."
He glanced at her.
She wasn't blushing this time. Just... content. Comfortable.
And for the first time since he'd arrived in this weird, semi-horny simulator world, Eren felt something close to peace.
Until a new notification appeared:
[Notice: Egg collected. Fertility detected. Breeding timer initiated.]
He choked on his tea.
"Wait—what?!"
Mira looked at him. "Are you okay?"
Lira blinked. "The chicken laid a fertilized egg. If you leave it in the coop, it will hatch. Chickens reproduce. This is not new, Eren."
"Right, right—normal chicken things. Just... making sure no hentai farming mechanics sneak into the coop."
"You mean like the ones that allowed that pig to birth twins in 11 hours?"
"Please stop."
The next morning, Eren rose early, determined to reset his dignity.
He stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his shirt. No scratches. No feathers. No psychic damage.
"Today," he told his reflection, "I plant. I harvest. I do not wrestle poultry."
Then the door opened.
"Eren!" Mira called. "One of the townsfolk is here to sell you a cow!"
His eye twitched.
Lira appeared behind him, blinking. "Statistically, this will go poorly."
"I'm going back to Korea."
"You're not."