The forest was quiet—too quiet.
Ren sat on the dirt, staring at the glowing orb hovering in front of him like a smug screensaver. The breeze rustled the silver leaves overhead, the sky shimmered faintly with two suns, and he was still trying to process one simple fact:
He died because of a vending machine.
"This… can't be real," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. His school uniform was somehow spotless, though it looked hilariously out of place in a medieval fantasy setting. "I didn't get hit by Truck-kun, didn't save a princess, didn't die protecting a cat—nope. Crushed by a soda dispenser. Fantastic."
The orb blinked at him.
"System reminder: Commoner (Lv. 1). Status—Alive. Physically intact. Mentally unstable."
Ren glared. "Gee, thanks. Love the encouragement."
"Would you like to attempt your first Quest?"
"No," he said immediately.
"Quest accepted."
"What part of 'no'—ugh, whatever."
The orb flickered and projected a faintly glowing list mid-air:
[Quest: Survival Basics]
Collect 5 Silver Mushrooms (0/5)
Find potable water (0/1)
Avoid dying (Ongoing)Reward: 5 EXP, Minor Skill Unlock
Ren pinched the bridge of his nose. "Avoid dying is an objective now? Perfect. Can't fail what you already suck at."
He sighed, standing up. "Fine, let's find some mushrooms. How hard could that be?"
It turned out: very.
The forest looked beautiful but every step felt like walking through a fantasy horror movie. The trees had bark that shimmered faintly like metal, strange blue mist hung low to the ground, and somewhere in the distance, something growled.
Ren crouched near a fallen log and found something that looked like a mushroom—but it was purple. And pulsing.
"Yeah, no," he said, stepping back. "Not touching the glowing fungus. I may be dumb, but I'm not protagonist-level dumb."
"Silver Mushrooms can be found near damp soil or running water."
"Then why didn't you lead with that, GPS Fairy?"
"System is not equipped with navigation."
"Of course you're not."
After an hour of wandering and muttering, Ren finally spotted a small creek. Silver-white mushrooms sprouted along the banks, glowing faintly like moonlight trapped in petals.
Ren knelt down and started collecting them. "Okay, this is fine. I can do this. Survive, adapt, profit. I'm basically Bear Grylls, but more sarcastic."
He'd just picked the fifth mushroom when the water beside him rippled.
"…Please tell me that's not a fish."
The ripples grew stronger. Then, slowly, something emerged — a small, reptilian head with glimmering green eyes. Its scales shimmered like jade.
Ren froze.
"Oh, cool, a baby dragon," he whispered. "That's adorable."
The creature hissed and expanded to three times its size in a second, revealing sharp fangs and smoke curling from its nostrils.
"…Less adorable now."
It lunged.
Ren threw the mushrooms in panic. "Fetch!"
The orb chimed helpfully.
"Combat tutorial initializing—"
"Too late!"
He dodged sideways as the creature's jaws snapped shut where his head had been. He grabbed the nearest thing—a stick—and waved it like a sword. "Back, demon lizard! I have a—uh—wooden Excalibur!"
The dragon blinked, confused by his shouting. Ren took the chance to sprint away, crashing through bushes, tripping on roots, and swearing with increasing creativity.
"Running from combat will result in—"
"YES, that's the plan!"
He didn't stop until he reached a clearing, gasping for air. The orb floated up beside him, perfectly calm.
"Congratulations. You have successfully avoided death. Objective complete."
Ren collapsed onto the grass. "I'm a natural-born survivor."
"Reward: 5 EXP."
He looked up. "How much EXP to level up?"
"100."
"…You're joking."
"No."
Ren groaned. "At this rate I'll be level two by the time I'm eighty."
As the sun dipped lower, he made his way toward a dirt road cutting through the forest. To his surprise, he saw smoke rising in the distance — a village.
"Finally," he murmured. "Civilization. Maybe I can find food, shelter, and a therapist."
The orb dimmed slightly.
"Warning: entering unknown settlement. Local hostility probability—42%."
"Forty-two percent? That's basically half! You could've led with that too!"
Still, he pressed on. The village was small — thatched roofs, wooden fences, muddy streets — but alive. Merchants shouted over stalls, kids ran barefoot, and the smell of freshly baked bread made his stomach growl violently.
He approached a stand where an old woman was selling fruit.
"Uh, excuse me," he began awkwardly, "do you, by any chance, accept... sarcasm as currency?"
The woman squinted at him. "You lost, boy?"
"Pretty much. Woke up in a forest, no money, no ID. You know, the usual Monday."
She laughed—a genuine, hearty laugh. "You're a strange one. If you're hungry, take a roll. You look half-dead."
Ren blinked, surprised. "Oh. Thanks."
As he took the bread, something inside him softened. Maybe this world wasn't all bad.
Then a shout erupted from down the street. "Thief! Someone stop him!"
Ren turned just in time to see a cloaked figure sprinting past with a pouch of coins—followed by armored guards in pursuit. The thief brushed against Ren's shoulder, nearly knocking him over.
Their eyes met for a brief moment. The thief's face was young—too young. Barely older than him. And oddly calm.
The boy smirked, whispering, "You didn't see me."
Then he vanished into the alley.
Moments later, guards arrived, panting. "You there! Did you see a man in dark clothes run this way?"
Ren hesitated. He glanced toward the alley, then back at the guards.
"…Nope. Didn't see anyone. Must've gone the other way."
The guards cursed and ran off. Ren exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "Why am I always getting dragged into other people's problems…"
He didn't know it yet, but that thief — calm, clever, and far too composed for a runaway — was no ordinary criminal.
And their paths would cross again in ways neither could imagine.
To be continued…
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