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Matsurize stared at the dead rabbit in his hands, but despite its lifeless body, he couldn't help feeling happy—meat was meat!
Though it was a dead rabbit, he sniffed it cautiously. Fortunately, it didn't smell rotten. Judging by the scent, he figured the rabbit hadn't been dead for long—probably just today, when it had run headfirst into that big tree.
If it had died here overnight, there was no way other wild animals would've left the body untouched. The fact that it was still here was proof enough.
And there were no signs of insects or bite marks from scavengers, which only confirmed Matsurize's guess.
Now that he had the rabbit, though, he realized he had no idea what to do next.
He didn't know the first thing about starting a fire. And in this forest filled with dry leaves and twigs, if he actually managed to light one, he might burn the whole place down. Then what?
Driven by desperation, Matsurize picked up a sharp-looking stone.
Right there beneath the tree where the rabbit had died, he began the grim and messy task of skinning it.
He chose that spot because the tree was large enough to shelter some dry ground once the fallen leaves were swept aside.
Sitting cross-legged, Matsurize held the rabbit with one hand and raised the stone high with the other—but then froze.
He had no idea how to start.
It wasn't that he thought "rabbits are too cute to eat." He simply didn't know what to do.
Back in his previous life on Earth, Matsurize had lived in the countryside for a time, but he had never actually killed anything himself. Not a rabbit, not a chicken, not even a fish.
The worst he'd ever done was step on an ant or two. That was the full extent of his "killing experience."
He stared blankly at the rabbit for a long time before finally taking a deep breath and making up his mind. He aimed the sharp stone at its belly and slashed downward.
The stone scraped against the fur—but the skin didn't break.
Matsurize stared in disbelief.
But it made sense. He'd just picked up a random small stone. And this was a wild rabbit—its hide was thick, its fur dense. It wouldn't be easy to cut open.
He set the rabbit aside and went to the roots of the big tree, where a few large rocks were half-buried in the dirt.
Placing his smaller stone against one of them, he began to grind it down, trying to sharpen its edge.
After all, as the saying went, "A dull knife wastes the woodcutter's time." The sharper the tool, the better. Randomly hacking at the rabbit with a blunt rock wouldn't get him anywhere.
He focused on honing just the tip, making it sharp enough to pierce.
As he worked, though, his attention drifted to something else—something that had been flickering faintly in his mind ever since he'd woken up on the beach: a tiny red dot.
He had checked it countless times already, and he was certain—it wasn't a hallucination.
It had been there since the very moment he opened his eyes in this new world. He just hadn't had time to think about it back then, too overwhelmed by the shock of reincarnation.
Then hunger had hit, then getting lost in the forest—and only now did he finally have the peace of mind to examine it closely.
He didn't know what it was, but one thing he was sure of: that little red dot didn't belong to this body.
It had come with him—brought over from his previous life.
The thought made him tremble with excitement. He had read countless transmigration novels in his past life, and this red dot… it felt just like one of those "system" interfaces from those stories.
It matched perfectly with the idea!
But he couldn't be certain.
He had tried everything—calling out to it, breathing in sync with its flickers, focusing his thoughts, whispering commands. Reliable methods, ridiculous ones—he'd tried them all.
Yet the red dot refused to respond.
Matsurize had nearly driven himself insane. By now, as he sat grinding his stone, he could finally ignore it without losing his focus.
He sighed helplessly. He had been an ordinary man in his past life—not some mysterious superhuman. He didn't have high intelligence or physical talent, let alone superpowers.
And in this new world, despite having a new body, he didn't seem much different. Thinner, maybe—but still weak, still human.
How he longed for that standard transmigrator's "system"—a guiding voice, a miraculous helper that could grant him power in this strange new world!
And that flickering red dot—it was so close to what he dreamed of.
It was almost as if fate were mocking him—dangling hope in front of his face, only to snatch it away.
Still, Matsurize took comfort in the fact that the heavens hadn't completely shut him out. The door was closed, yes—but maybe there was still a crack left open.
He could only hope that one day, that little red dot would transform into an all-powerful system and help him carve a place for himself in this bizarre world.
For now, though, he chose to ignore it.
After grinding the stone for quite some time, he managed to give it a faint, sharp edge.
He had been worried the small stone might crumble from over-grinding, but luckily, it held together. It was hard enough to work with.
Satisfied, Matsurize stopped sharpening. He couldn't afford to delay any longer. Night was approaching, and the longer the rabbit sat, the greater the risk that its meat would spoil.
In truth, if not for his gnawing hunger overpowering reason, he should've been focusing on finding a way out of the forest—not wasting time preparing food.
But with his lack of experience, there was no way he could ignore his hunger.
After all, he had never felt this hungry before in either life. His previous one, especially—he had always been overweight.
Now gripping his newly sharpened stone, Matsurize aimed once more at the rabbit's belly and drove it down hard.
This time, the skin tore open instantly, blood spilling out in a crimson gush.
Without hesitation, he struck a few more times before setting the stone aside. Then, roughly, he thrust his hand into the rabbit's belly.
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