Episode 4: Survival

After finishing the fight with the pseudo-panther, I sat dazed on the rocky bank for a while. Bewildered by the sudden environmental changes and exhausted in both body and mind from the forced struggle for survival, I found that resting for a bit allowed my physical fatigue to recover significantly.

I don’t know if this is due to my young body or its specific, special physical abilities, but one thing is certain: my old body would never have recovered to this extent. In any case, with my physical strength restored, my mental state improved somewhat as well. The feeling that as long as my body is healthy, I can manage somehow welled up within me.

I decided to climb a tall tree to survey the area. I jumped up to grab a branch, pulled my body up with arm strength alone, and got on top of it. Using that technique, I moved from branch to branch, climbing higher and higher. Thanks to this excellent body, I reached near the top in no time, and my field of vision opened up, allowing me to see quite far.

However, spreading out before my eyes was nothing but a vast sea of trees.

I took my time looking around, even using my eyes’ zoom function to investigate, but I couldn’t see any settlements, let alone anything artificial. It was enough to dishearten me. But I couldn’t stay depressed forever. Fearing discovery by the bear, I quickly descended from the tree.

Back on the rocky bank, I thought about various things. For starters, I don’t think this is Japan. I’ve traveled around Japan enough to see a fair bit of it, but the animals and plants here are all things I’ve never seen before. I’ve been overseas a few times, but only to tourist spots. I’ve never been to a place that is purely nature like this, so I can’t say for sure, but I think it looks different from the landscapes of Africa, the Amazon, Siberia, or the great forests of Canada that I’ve seen on TV.

The animals I fought are the same. They resemble Earth animals, but I feel they are somehow different. It’s not just their appearance that feels different. Their fixation on fighting—or rather, the fact that they won’t stop fighting until death—seems abnormal.

And then there’s that mysterious power, akin to psychic ability, allowing them to change direction in mid-air or move objects without physical contact. Earth animals don’t have abilities like that. They shouldn’t.

Where on earth have I ended up? And fundamentally, am I even “me”? My memories and consciousness remain, but my body is clearly someone else’s.

The only artificial thing was that laboratory-like place where I woke up. That was the only trace of humans—or rather, intelligent life. If such advanced scientific and technological structures exist, there must be a civilization or city commensurate with them somewhere.

Judging by the primitive humans and demi-humans in those capsules, it seems they were researching clones or artificial life there. Since that seems ethically problematic, it’s possible they built it in a remote location.

It looked like an abandoned lab, but seeing the graphs on the monitors and that mysterious circle, I think the power and such were still active. If not for the fear of the bear, I would want to go back, but thinking it might be the bear’s lair, I didn’t feel like returning.

That mysterious circle resembled the magic circles often seen in manga and anime, but was that teleportation-like event magic? Could it be that I was sent to another world where magic actually exists? Is this… an isekai?

Heh…

I chuckled, exasperated by my own thoughts. This isn’t a manga or anime; there’s no way such unscientific things exist. It’s not something an old man past sixty should be thinking…

Suddenly, a nasty thought crossed my mind. Maybe they kidnapped me while I was dying, modified my body, and dumped me in this extremely dangerous place to observe the results.

If it were a prank, that would be better, but maybe some military facility is testing enhanced soldiers… That feels more realistic than the absurd idea of being sent to another world or the future…

It was a thought I couldn’t laugh at, so I hurriedly dismissed it.

Looking at the sun, it seemed to be some time past its zenith. Maybe around 2 or 3 PM. As far as the sun goes, it looks no different from the one seen on Earth. I think there are only a few hours of daylight left, so I should stop moving for today and secure food and a place to sleep.

Also, since I have to enter the forest tomorrow to move forward, I need to prepare for that. For now, this place seems relatively safe, but who knows what will happen if the pseudo-crocs get hungry. So, I need to find a secure spot while I still can.

Walking back along the rocky bank a bit, I found a spot that was hollowed out about a meter deep, like a gouge in the rock, and decided to make my bed there. There isn’t space to lie down fully, but there’s enough room to lean against the wall and stretch my legs.

I brought over three slab-like rocks, each about a meter long, to block the opening. I think this should prevent anything but very small animals from entering. There’s no guarantee there aren’t disease-carrying mosquitoes or rats, but since I don’t have a mosquito net, I can only pray they don’t come.

With a sleeping place secured, I set about preparing food to fill my stomach. For food, I have the pseudo-croc meat I took earlier. I don’t have the courage to eat it raw, so I need to start a fire to cook it. Plus, I’d like to have some warmth for the night if possible.

Since I liked hiking, I once tried starting a fire without civilization’s tools just to see if I could. It took a hell of a long time, but I remember being happy when I finally succeeded. Fortunately, the boundary between the rocky area and the forest had plenty of dry wood and leaves to use as tools.

I stripped fibrous bark from a tree to make threads, then twisted several together to make a cord. I wrapped this cord around a straight dry branch and pulled to rotate the branch. The spinning tip rubbed against dry bark, creating friction heat.

After repeating this a few times, smoke rose from the friction point. Thanks to this body’s performance allowing me to rotate the stick at high speed, I succeeded in starting a fire in a short time. When I sprinkled finely shredded bark onto the friction point, the smoke burst into a small flame.

Now that I had an ember, I carefully added dry bark and small twigs so it wouldn’t go out. The fire grew, and after adding thicker branches, it became a bonfire that would burn for a while.

Once the fire was ready, it was time to cook. Well, “cooking” just meant skewering the meat on peeled branches and roasting it. As the pseudo-croc meat began to roast, a good smell wafted up. I worried this smell might attract beasts, so I continued cooking while keeping a vigilant watch on the surroundings.

Hearing a rustling sound, I turned to see several small animals resembling weasels emerging from the forest edge. The weasel-like animals looked generally like weasels but had an atmosphere somewhat like a fox. They were about 50cm long. They watched me for a while, leading to a sort of staring contest. Perhaps recognizing me as an enemy, they began to growl. Not a very good atmosphere.

I picked up a pebble about the size of a pinky tip rolling at my feet and flicked it with my fingers. A finger flick, or shidan. The finger flick had more power than I expected, hitting the middle weasel-pseudo standing over ten meters away. Again, willing Hit!, the pebble was sucked toward the weasel-pseudo’s forehead, making a nice clack sound as the creature fell.

Angered by their comrade being taken down, the remaining two charged. I hurriedly stood up, dodged their attacks, and grabbed them as we passed each other. I threw them straight into the river, and they were swept away by the current. The current is fast, so they’ll probably become bait for the pseudo-crocs before they can swim to shore. For my own safety, I hoped that would be the case.

But seriously, what is this ability? Back in the day, I’d jokingly flick my fingers at cockroaches, but I never hit them; it was just for intimidation. The power wasn’t much, and they didn’t fly that fast.

But just now, it flew to the target with incredible speed and power. Is it due to superior physical ability, or is it really Telekinesis? I don’t really understand what’s going on, but my body remembers how to use it. That’s how it feels.

Anyway, dealing with the weasel-pseudo comes first. I picked up the fallen weasel-pseudo. It woke up and immediately tried to bite me.

Whoa, close one!

Small as it is, the killing intent is palpable. I strangled the weasel-pseudo to death. Suddenly, I mocked myself, thinking, I can never be Nausicaä.

Honestly, it doesn’t feel good, but the animals here are excessively aggressive. If you don’t kill, you get killed. That seems to be the law here. I wedged small stones into the gaps of my sleeping place to make them smaller.

The pseudo-croc meat was roasted, so I ate it. There are no seasonings, so it was bland. The meat itself had a light taste, almost flavorless. The texture was crumbly like grilled white fish. Honestly, it wasn’t delicious, but my stomach was full, so I’ll call it good. I got thirsty and wanted water. However, I didn’t want to drink directly from the river where the pseudo-crocs live.

Looking at the forest, I saw plants with nodes similar to bamboo, so I used a sharp stone to forcefully cut one down. Although similar, it didn’t grow straight like bamboo but spiraled up toward the sky. Splitting it vertically, I found it was hollow inside just like bamboo, so I used it as a pot. As long as it’s wet, bamboo won’t burn, making it a substitute pot for survival, and this bamboo-pseudo seemed to work the same way.

Keeping an eye out for pseudo-crocs, I rinsed the bamboo-pseudo well, filled it with water, and put it on the fire. The water boiled in a few minutes, so I let it cool a bit before drinking. Honestly, thinking about the pseudo-crocs made me feel sick, but I told myself it was sterilized by boiling and swallowed it. Rather than tasting good or bad, it was mentally unpleasant, but I felt the moisture permeating my body as my throat was quenched. For now, my physical fatigue has mostly faded. But my mood hasn’t cleared.

There was still time before sunset, so I decided to try skinning the weasel-pseudo I killed earlier. I picked up a flat stone that could serve as a blade, wet it, and rubbed it against a rock to sharpen it.

Once it was sharp enough, I made incisions in the weasel-pseudo’s limbs and cut open the belly, careful not to damage the internal organs. I removed the organs, held the hind legs, and pulled the skin with all my might. It tore in places, but overall, it peeled off pretty well.

At that moment, I saw something shining inside, near the medulla below the skull. Looking closely, it was a stone about the size of a fingertip, looking like a red gem. When I pinched it with my fingers, the nerve-like fibers connecting it tore easily, and I was able to remove the stone.

What is this?

I don’t know, but it feels unnatural for it to be inside a body. Wiping off the blood and holding it up to the sky, I could see something like a fine mesh of fibers inside. It felt mysterious, so I decided to keep it for now.

I discarded the meat and organs of the weasel-pseudo far down the river and washed the skinned fur in the nearby river to remove bloodstains and dirt. There wasn’t much time, so I rolled and wrung it out to dry it a bit, then built a simple frame over the bonfire and placed it on top. I put fresh leaves on the fire to create smoke and smoked the fur.

It’s a super sloppy, improvised tanning job, but if it works, it can serve as underwear. This is a very important task so that my “little guy” doesn’t touch the ground directly when I sit.

Sunset is fast approaching. While smoking the fur, I used the time to make weapons. The whip and throwing stones have proven to be powerful weapons, but I’m still anxious.

I made a spear by processing the driftwood I had prepared earlier for fighting the pseudo-panther. It’s about 2 meters long and 7 centimeters thick. After being soaked in water and then dried on the rocks, it had become hard and strong enough to withstand impact. Plus, the bark had peeled off, exposing the core, making it easy to work with.

I looked for a stone to be the spearhead. I wanted a tip that could stab, cut, and strike, so I looked for a stone with some weight and size. I found a stone about 30 centimeters long with a suitable shape. The base was about 10 centimeters thick, tapering toward the tip, so I frantically sharpened it to a keen edge.

I wrapped vines around it to lash it to the driftwood. I’m worried about the durability, but if it can damage the opponent even once, that’s good enough. Attaching the spearhead made it quite heavy and poorly balanced.

However, this young body is filled with power that makes light of such things. I think the spear weighs about 10kg, but holding it in the middle, I can easily thrust or swing it with one hand.

With this, I could probably pierce through an enemy like the pseudo-panther I defeated earlier with one blow, or kill it instantly if I bashed its head. Though the spear would probably be rendered useless after that…

I grinned, satisfied with my work. But I immediately reconsidered and sighed. Why am I getting a thrill out of making weapons to kill animals in a place like this? Thinking that, I felt empty and nearly cried.

Sunset was finally imminent. The setting sun dyed the surroundings red. There are still things I want to make, but it seems time is up.

At night, the unlit mountains are pitch black and terrifying. Just the fact that it’s dark and you can’t see your surroundings eats away at your mind with fear. I experienced a night alone in the mountains once, and honestly, I nearly went mad with fear. Here, it will be even worse.

I added more fuel to the bonfire to surround my sleeping area. I don’t know if this will deter beasts or pseudo-crocs, but it might provide some comfort.

Today, so many outrageous things kept happening that I was utterly exhausted. Honestly, I just want to sleep as soon as possible. Only the desire to survive kept me going, but even that seems to be at its limit.

I took the smoked fur in hand and crawled into the hollow that would be my lair. I moved the rocks from the inside to cover the opening, spread the fur under my butt, and leaned against the wall. If I get attacked and die while sleeping like this, then so be it. With that resigned thought, I immediately fell into the world of sleep.

Praying that, if possible, I would wake up in a hospital treatment room…