Chapter 1: Starting With Nothing But a Shack
Deep in the night, all was silent.
Rukongai, West District Three, Rifuku Mountain.
Soft silver moonlight spilled across the night sky, its dim glow outlining the low wooden structures scattered throughout the area. The air carried a nostalgic scent—a blend of earth, timber, and the faint mustiness of accumulated years.
Beneath the moonlight, a young man of about seventeen or eighteen lay on a pile of straw, dressed in rough cloth. The silence was broken only by his breathing, the rustle of wind through leaves, and the gentle murmur of a nearby stream.
The young man's black hair was tied back loosely, and even in the darkness, his handsome features and lean frame were evident.
In the black of night, his chest rose and fell with each breath. Around his body, barely visible to the naked eye, tiny motes of light slowly merged into him before vanishing in an instant.
The wind continued to blow, the leaves continued to rustle. Time passed, though how long was uncertain.
"Hey..."
"Hey..."
Fragmented whispers drifted through hazy dreams. In his sleep, Suoh Tsukasa vaguely heard someone calling to him. The voice was unclear, as if filtered through layers of fog from somewhere far away. His eyelids twitched slightly, but he didn't wake—only rolled over on the straw.
Grrrrowl...
Then a long, loud growl shattered the night's silence. Under the assault of intense hunger, Suoh felt like his stomach was on fire. More than that, it was as if a giant hand had reached inside his belly and was viciously twisting his guts.
Wave after wave of physical pain jolted Suoh awake. Just then, the first rays of morning sunlight streamed through the window into the room, bringing a hint of brightness to the pitch-black interior.
His vision was blurry at first, then gradually cleared. Waking, Suoh propped himself up and slowly climbed from the straw. He lifted his head, his gaze sweeping across his surroundings, taking everything in. Nothing he saw was familiar.
The house before him was desolate and decrepit. The ramshackle wooden structure didn't even have a proper door. The roof tiles were sparse, letting slivers of light seep through the gaps. The walls, made of mud plaster, were mottled and crumbling. Spider webs clung to the corners. Aside from the pile of dried straw beneath him that barely qualified as a bed, the place was utterly bare—four walls and nothing else.
Turning his attention to himself, Suoh saw he was wearing rough cloth clothing that looked like something from a period drama, though he couldn't identify which era.
"Where the hell did I end up..." Suoh muttered to himself, then a suspicion welled up in his mind.
"Did I... transmigrate?"
As someone who'd grown up reading web novels, he'd fantasized about transmigration more than once. He just never expected it would actually happen to him.
He tried to recall if anything had happened yesterday—maybe he'd been hit by a truck or something—but his memories of recent days were frustratingly vague. Memories from a bit further back remained crystal clear, though.
However, his body wasn't giving him time for careful contemplation.
Hungry.
So hungry.
His stomach was so damn hungry!
If not for the intense hunger gnawing at him, he would've thought he was still dreaming. The rumbling of his empty stomach and the twisting pain in his gut confirmed this was absolutely real.
Suoh struggled to his feet. He'd already surveyed the room—aside from the straw beneath him, the place was completely empty. There wasn't even a broken pot, let alone any food.
"Can't stay here. Need to find something to eat, or I'll starve to death in this godforsaken place before I even figure out what's going on."
The survival instinct overpowered Suoh's need to understand his situation. Taking a deep breath, he stood and used the wall for support as he slowly shuffled toward the doorway.
Stepping outside, his bare feet pressed into soft earth. Weeds along the path rose past his ankles, and morning dew dampened his feet. The slight chill made him instinctively pull his rough clothing tighter.
Looking around, he spotted several equally dilapidated dwellings not too far away. Between the houses were obvious paths worn by foot traffic, though with dawn just breaking, no one was visible yet.
The signs of habitation eased Suoh's mind somewhat—at least he hadn't been dropped in the middle of nowhere.
But his transmigrator instincts also reminded him that desperate places bred desperate people. He wasn't stupid enough to go begging for food from strangers in his current weakened state.
Taking another breath, Suoh headed toward the nearby stream. Though his steps were unsteady from hunger, his eyes held firm determination.
Splash, splash—
Reaching the stream's edge, he heard the rush of water. The stream was crystal clear, its surface glittering in the morning sunlight. Suoh crouched down and cupped his hands, bringing the ice-cold water to his lips. He drank several mouthfuls, temporarily suppressing the burning sensation in his stomach, though the hollow ache of hunger remained.
He splashed water on his face. The cold shock cleared his head, and seeing his familiar yet strange reflection—a black-haired young man—in the water's surface made the reality of transmigration hit even harder.
"First priority: find food."
Standing up and shaking water droplets from his hands, Suoh began scanning his surroundings.
Vegetation near streams was usually abundant, and fortunately, the temperature suggested it was late spring or early summer—prime growing season. Soon he spotted several clusters of bright red mock strawberries in a patch of shrubs.
He quickly stripped all the berries from the branches, picked off the dead leaves, and stuffed them all into his mouth without bothering to wash them.
As he chewed rapidly, the juice flooded his mouth—tart with a hint of sweetness, instantly refreshing his weakened body.
"God, that's good!"
After downing several handfuls of mock strawberries, though still not full, the maddening hunger that had plagued him upon waking finally subsided considerably. His body recovered a bit of strength, and his mind became clearer.
After finishing the berries, Suoh followed the stream upstream. This time he wasn't just looking for food—he also wanted something for self-defense.
The stream babbled, the air was fresh, birds chirped in the forest, and the sunlight gradually warmed. Everything seemed peaceful in the tranquility.
Arriving at a tree by the stream's edge where sunlight filtered through the leaves, Suoh quickly identified it as a willow.
His eyes lit up at the recognition. Familiar tree species suggested he was probably still on Earth, and willows were common in temperate regions of the Northern Hemisphere. That lowered the difficulty of future survival considerably.
Plucking several green willow branches, Suoh bit off the buds and catkins, chewing carefully. While this stuff wasn't ideal to eat raw, without other food sources, he had no better option.
Bitterness flooded his mouth. As Suoh chewed, his gaze scanned the willow's branches.
His goal was clear: craft a weapon that could serve both for self-defense and hunting. A person couldn't survive on just eating plants—only cattle and horses could do that.
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