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I Transmigrated Into A Fantasy World To Farm And Build Houses!

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Synopsis
After transmigrating into a book he had just finished reading, Eric found himself cast as the villainous cannon fodder. The original owner of the body was secretly and wholeheartedly in love with Max, the tribe's strongest warrior, but Max and Michael had grown up together and gradually developed feelings for each other. The original owner tried every means to obstruct them, was eventually exiled by the tribe, and died a miserable death from hunger and cold that winter. Many races existed on this continent, and he was not even human. Eric looked at the piece of grilled meat before him, burnt black as charcoal, and a handful of beans so hard they felt like they could chip his teeth. He looked up at the thatched roof that leaked rain in the summer and let snow through in the winter. Behind him, a small lion cub was wailing for food. Oh, and this little lion cub was also the story's devoted second male lead. The first step was to improve his life. What, the beastmen do not know how to farm? No problem, they can learn. Then they would not have to starve during the winter. Thatched huts, mud houses, and tents could all be replaced! The arrogant Elf race had a strong affinity for plants, which was perfect for farming, and the Dragon race could breathe fire, which was perfect for firing bricks! Humans called the Fantasy Dream Continent a cursed land. Later, a wandering poet would tell tales of the Snow Wolf Tribe who lived there, possessing all sorts of delicacies and fine, home-brewed wine whose aroma could travel for ten miles, leaving a rich aftertaste. Once the rumor spread, countless adventuring parties and mercenaries felt compelled to explore the land, even at the risk of being beaten half to death. Eric utilized the advantages of his bloodline, diligently farming and building infrastructure, leading the tribe toward a better life. It was just that one day he would pick up a prince of the Human race, and the next, a prince of the Elf race. With a prince of the Beastman Kingdom already in his house, Eric was at his wit's end. Perhaps I should just build a nation for all of you! And another thing, you, the main male lead, stop hovering around me! ... Auther: Please forgive my mistakes, as English is not my first language. I appreciate your understanding!
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Chapter 1 - Transmigration

"Overtime, overtime, it's overtime every single day!"

Irritably, Eric sped on his rickety electric scooter, weaving through several giant concrete blocks, riding to the end of the small alley and out onto the main road.

As if fate were mocking him, it didn't rain while he was at the company. He had only ridden a short distance when the rain began to pour torrentially, as if wanting to wash away a person's very temperament. The row of shoddy streetlights flickered twice then died completely, plunging the entire world into darkness, interspersed with friendly shouts of "Fuck mother."

Eric felt like smoke was about to pour out of his ears.

Sigh, if only humans could photosynthesize like trees, I would willingly be a tree for my entire life just for the peace of it.

While he was busy silently cursing everyone from the CEO down to the damn parking attendant, Eric's vision was blurred by the rain. Seeing there were only a few seconds left on the green light, the recklessness inside him flared up. Time to get home! He twisted the throttle, pulling a breakneck acceleration maneuver straight out of the Fast & Furious films—the electric scooter edition.

But as it turns out, life isn't a dream. The green light flickered once, then turned a glaring red.

Eric frantically squeezed the brakes.

And screech... a 180-degree drift on the road, as slick as grease, a maneuver with an artistry no less than that of a professional racer.

He and his scooter were flung into the middle of the intersection. The flow of traffic had just been unleashed, and through the curtain of rain, any driver who saw him would probably only have time to gasp. Eric stared helplessly at the pitch-black undercarriage of a vehicle rushing towards him...

"Damn it, the novel I'm reading isn't even finished yet!"

The last words of a novel addict.

...

A damp, pungent smell of wild grass rushed into his nose. Eric groggily opened his eyes. A few cool drops of water fell onto his face with a splat.

Huh? I'm not dead?

He thought to himself, Wow, I really didn't die. Got to admit, that was a high-quality helmet, to get run over by a car and still keep my life.

He tried to move, intending to get up and see what kind of heartless bastard the driver was. Who causes an accident and, instead of taking the person to the hospital, dumps them in some grassy field?

But how strange. It didn't hurt at all.

Could it be that I'm actually a legendary protagonist? The kind who falls off a cliff only to find a secret manual, and whose powers automatically recover after being hit by a car?

But to his surprise, what met his eyes was not a hospital or a street, but... a wall of yellow mud mixed with straw. Looking up, he saw a tattered thatched roof, through which rainwater dripped down onto his face.

"Huh? What is this?"

Eric was stunned.

Do drivers really go this far nowadays? After causing an accident, they even have the audacity to kidnap the victim to some remote area to dispose of the evidence? Or... did I die and then transmigrate? This style of house looks so familiar, exactly like the old-fashioned rural houses he used to see in historical dramas.

"Awoooo!"

Huh? Hello?

"Awoo?"

Oh no! What the hell is going on?! The hairs on his body stood on end. He looked down at his hand—ah, no, his foreleg.

Snowy white, soft, and delicate, with claws... Don't tell me the next life for a guy addicted to Boy Love is to be a guard dog, right? And based on this setting, this fur color... could it be I'm some expired dog that's about to lose all its fur?

"Ao?"

While Eric's mind was in turmoil, a soft, youthful cry sounded from behind him.

Eric turned his head to look and saw a small, yellow lion cub, about the size of a two-month-old kitten, staggering unsteadily towards him.

He propped himself up on his claws, sitting blankly where he was.

Suddenly, his head felt as if it were being stuffed with countless things; it was both painful and dizzying. He clutched his head with his paws, sprawling on the ground in pain for a while before his mind cleared.

The memories of this body poured into his head like a waterfall.

The original owner of the body was a beastman of the Snow Wolf Tribe. During a great war between the beastman tribe and the Elf tribe, one of his parents was killed. The other was severely injured right when she was pregnant with the original owner, leading to a premature birth.

From a young age, the original owner's body was not as healthy as others in his tribe, and he couldn't hunt large prey. If it weren't for the fact that the tribespeople respected his parents and helped him frequently, he probably would have starved to death long ago.

This little lion cub before him had been found by the original owner's mother sometime later. That great war had claimed far too many lives. After the war, the two tribes made peace, but many beastmen were displaced and forced to wander. The Golden Lion Tribe led the Tiger, Cat, and Leopard tribes to establish the Golden Kingdom, settling in the western part of the continent. Meanwhile, beastmen from other tribes were scattered everywhere across the land.

The original owner's mother couldn't find this little lion cub's parents and, guessing they too had perished, brought him home to raise alongside her own child.

Not long after bringing the little lion cub home, the original owner's mother passed away; her injuries were too severe to recover from, and coupled with the grief of missing her mate, she fell ill and died.

The original owner and the little lion cub survived under the care of the entire tribe.

The original owner did not like the little lion cub, feeling that it had stolen his mother from him. And since his body was innately weak and his strength was no match for others in his tribe, from a young age he had deeply idolized the tribe's number one warrior, Max.

Whenever he had the time, he would trail after Max, his heart full of admiration.

Max did not like him. As a beastman, Max disliked such a weakling. Furthermore, the original owner was a male beastman; even if Max truly wanted to take a male beastman as a mate, why wouldn't he choose Michael, who had grown up with him?

His mother, Luci, however, had some past conflict with Michael's mother, so she still hoped her son could become mates with the original owner. After all, the original owner's mother had been a brave warrior.

Over time, Max grew more and more annoyed with the original owner. As for the original owner, the more he was denied, the more he craved it; he constantly clung to Max without letting go, rarely paying any mind to his little lion cub brother.

For the past few days, it had been raining continuously. The original owner was still a weak juvenile and could not follow the warriors out to hunt. He wanted to sneak out to follow Max on the hunt, but he was caught in a heavy downpour and developed a fever. Someone had to bring him home.

Beastmen were naturally hardy, with tough bodies; no one expected that a simple fever would take the original owner's life.