Lin Yao found a small creek after wandering the forest for what felt like hours.
Those hours were enough to make the truth sink in.
She had transmigrated as a lioness beast into a world of beastmen.
And this body hadn't belonged to some nameless beast.
The lioness had once been part of a tribe. She was not weak. She was not low-ranking. She had been strong enough to survive on her own.
Strong enough to kill.
The memories came in fragments—sharp, ugly flashes.
A suffocating weight.
Hands that shouldn't have touched her.
A voice that thought authority meant ownership.
The head of the tribe.
She had fought back.
She had killed him.
And for that, the tribe hadn't called her brave.
They had called her a monster.
She was driven out, cast away like something broken and shameful. No protection. No territory. No pack.
She wandered alone.
Hunted alone.
Bled alone.
And eventually… she died alone too.
It was almost laughable.
Lin Yao had jumped off a skyscraper not long ago, only to wake up here—in a place she hadn't even believed could exist.
Females were rare in this world, and now she was wandering through it naked, carrying an injured cub.
Lin Yao crouched by the creek and finally saw her reflection clearly.
She was beautiful.
Bronze skin, unblemished. Golden hair falling loosely down her back. Amber eyes that glowed faintly in the water's reflection. A fresh scar cut across her side—left behind by the tiger—but it wasn't deep. It didn't even hurt.
Her body was strong. Alive.
Nothing like her old one.
That body had been deathly pale. Too thin. Covered in self-inflicted scars she had spent years hiding beneath long sleeves, tattoos, and smiles.
She sighed.
She had wanted everything to end.
But now....
She carefully set the small rabbit girl on a flat stone nearby and scooped water into her palms, washing the blood off. When she looked back at Luma, she forced a tired smile.
"You're really strong," Lin Yao said softly. "You know that, right?"
Luma blinked at her.
She didn't answer.
Pain slowly crept into the child's face, and tears welled in those wide violet eyes.
Lin Yao's chest tightened.
[Warning: Dependent distress detected.]
[Excessive fear response may result in fatal shock.]
The system again.
Lin Yao exhaled slowly. "Hold on."
She moved quickly, snapping a sturdy branch from a nearby bush and tearing a long vine free. When she returned, Luma was clutching her swollen leg, trembling.
"I need you to hold onto my arm," Lin Yao said gently, kneeling in front of her. "You can bite me if it hurts."
Luma's ears twitched. Her grip tightened.
"I'm.. hungry," she whispered, her voice breaking as tears spilled over.
Lin Yao froze.
Then she nodded. "Okay. I'll get you food."
She carefully took Luma's small hands in her own.
"Let's fix your leg first," she said quietly.
Luma nodded, holding on to Lin Yao's wrist as tightly as she could.
It wasn't much.
But it was enough to keep Lin Yao there.
Lin Yao carefully grabbed Luma's injured leg and shifted it back into place.
The cub screamed.
Luma bit down hard on Lin Yao arm, sharp little teeth sinking into flesh as Lin Yao clenched her jaw and forced herself to keep going. She snapped the stick to the length of Luma's leg, pressed it firmly against the limb, and quickly wrapped the vine around it with shaking hands.
"You're doing well," she murmured, her breath coming out uneven. "You're doing so well."
Her words were nearly drowned out by Luma's muffled sobs and cries.
Once the splint was secure and the leg properly straightened, Lin Yao lifted Luma into her arms and hugged her close. She rubbed the child's back gently. Slow, steady motions just like she used to do to herself whenever the world felt too heavy.
Luma cried and trembled in her arms.
Lin Yao supported the injured leg carefully so it wouldn't hang, cradling the small rabbit.
Luma's face was flushed, her eyes glassy with pain. Her whimpers only grew louder.
Lin Yao felt her own vision blur with tears.
"I'm not built for this," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Please, Luma. Please…"
[Warning]
Dependent remains in distress.
Objective:
• Feed Dependent
• Induce sleep within 2 hours
Failure Consequence:
• Host lower-limb strength temporarily reduced
Reward:
• Pain Relief Herb ×1
• Anti-Inflammation Herb ×1
Lin Yao stared at the message. "Right."
Luma's wailing only grew louder.
Lin Yao let out a long, defeated breath.
She took a drink from the creek and carefully let Luma sip some water as well. Then she shifted the cub securely in her arms and began searching for food.
Rabbits ate vegetables.
At least Luma was old enough not to need milk.
Lin Yao refused to think about what she would've done otherwise.
She gathered a handful of berries and sat down, helping Luma eat slowly. Between bites, she gently massaged the injured leg, careful not to put pressure on the splint.
Little by little, the sobs softened.
Luma relaxed against her, small body growing heavy as she ate. She stayed curled up in Lin Yao's lap the entire time, until exhaustion finally claimed her.
Luma fell asleep.
Pain still creased her small face, but her breathing evened out.
Lin Yao carefully brushed her fingers through the child's white hair, slow and gentle, afraid to wake her.
[Task Completed]
Dependent distress reduced
Dependent asleep
At that moment, herbs materialized in Lin Yao's grip. Her eyes widened in surprise.
"Thank you, System," she muttered, unable to hide the relief.
Carefully adjusting Luma in her arms, she rose to her feet. "Alright… shelter first," she said, scanning the forest.
A small laugh escaped her. "I've officially turned into Dora freaking Explorer… with a kid… and a murder-happy system."
She moved quietly through the trees, careful with every step, ears alert for danger. Birds perched overhead, watching her pass.
Thankfully, no more crazy tigers appeared.
The sky slowly darkened as the sun dipped lower. By the time night crept in, Lin Yao found a massive tree with wide roots sheltering its base.
"This will do."
She layered large leaves together and gently laid Luma down, making sure she was as comfortable as possible before gathering fallen branches nearby.
Once she had a small pile, Lin Yao clapped her hands together and cracked her fingers.
"Okay. Let's do this," she muttered, taking a deep breath.
"They do this all the time in movies. Easy. Peasy."
She arranged the sticks carefully and grabbed another, rubbing them together over and over.
Nothing.
She frowned and rubbed harder.
Still nothing.
Lin Yao groaned and flung the stick aside. "Why won't you work?!"
Luma whimpered.
Lin Yao froze, her heart leaping into her throat. She turned slowly.
Luma shifted in her sleep, ears twitching as she mumbled something unintelligible before licking her lips and settling again.
Still asleep.
Lin Yao exhaled shakily.
"Sorry," she whispered.
She grabbed another stick and crouched again. "Okay. Let's try this again."
Minutes passed.
Her arms ached. Her patience wore thin.
"How did cavemen do this?" she groaned, dragging a hand through her hair.
She gave up and grabbed a few stones instead, smashing them together desperately.
Just noise. No spark.
Lin Yao threw the stones aside and collapsed onto her back, staring up at the dark sky peeking through the canopy above.
Tears burned her eyes.
A soft, broken sound escaped her throat. "This is so hard."