My Patreon for more chaps:
Patreon.com/IndifferentVillain
"Chapter 15 is out on my Patreon*
____________
Matsurize lifted the rabbit high by its tail with his left hand, while his right hand dug around inside the dead creature's belly.
Before long, the rabbit's stomach spilled open, its entrails and organs tumbling out in a mess of blood and gore.
He couldn't make fire—nor did he know how to—so Matsurize knew he would have to eat the meat raw. But he also knew that the internal organs were too risky to eat uncooked.
That was why he carefully scooped out every bit of the rabbit's guts.
The sight was gruesome. When Matsurize finally pulled his right hand free from the rabbit's belly, he nearly vomited.
Earlier, his hunger had been so overwhelming that he hadn't felt much of anything. But now, seeing his hand covered in sticky, warm blood, he could barely suppress his disgust.
It was sticky, slimy—he didn't even know what was clinging to his skin. It was revolting.
Still, he endured it. At this point, there was no turning back. The most important thing now was to fill his stomach.
Nothing could stand between Matsurize and food.
He grabbed a few leaves from the nearby tree and wiped the rabbit's flesh clean as best as he could.
Then, with the sharp-edged stone he had prepared earlier, he cut off a piece of red, fresh meat.
Without hesitation, he tossed it into his mouth. It was tough, bitter, and reeked of blood—absolutely disgusting.
But compared to the food of his previous life, it was a nightmare. Yet in this strange world, driven by starvation, Matsurize didn't care. His hunger pushed him to chew through the foul-tasting meat.
One piece wasn't enough—he devoured another, and another.
Back in his previous life, his appetite had always been massive—people used to joke he could eat for three.
Even now, trapped in this frail, undernourished body, that bottomless hunger remained. His stomach felt far too large for someone this skinny.
As he ate, Matsurize's mind wandered.
With an appetite like this, he thought, I should at least be a little fatter, right?
That only proved one thing—the original owner of this body had lived a miserable life, one full of hardship and neglect.
And just like that, while lost in idle thoughts, the rabbit meat was gone.
All that remained was the bloody hide lying on the ground.
For the first time, Matsurize felt slightly full. He knew it was foolish to expect another "lucky rabbit" to appear anytime soon.
He tossed away the blood-soaked skin, picked a direction, and set off again before the sky turned completely dark—still searching for the source of the smoke he'd glimpsed earlier.
Now, his journey had a single, simpler goal.
Before, it had been about survival—filling his stomach. But now that hunger was no longer urgent, he was left with only one thing to seek: company.
Loneliness terrified him more than hunger.
He thought about all those transmigration novels he'd read in his past life—how the protagonists often spent months or years alone in strange worlds.
Even if he had the strength or skills to live like that, Matsurize knew he couldn't. Isolation like that would drive him insane.
He looked up at the sky through the cracks between the trees. The sunlight was fading fast, and the air was growing colder.
He quickened his pace. He had no idea where he was heading—but he knew he couldn't just stay where he was.
That was when he noticed the chill deepening. Nightfall brought another problem—cold.
He looked down at himself: a thin shirt, worn-out pants, and shoes full of holes.
Compared to the shoes, his clothes were at least intact, just old and faded. But this kind of outfit offered no protection in the middle of a forest.
He shivered and walked faster, rubbing his damp sleeves.
Thinking back, he remembered waking up on the beach when he first arrived in this world—his clothes soaked through.
That memory gave him a theory: perhaps the body he now occupied had been in a shipwreck.
The original owner must not have been from this area at all.
As Matsurize wandered and speculated, his worst fear came true.
Time did not bend to anyone's will.
Night fell.
And it fell fast.
Just moments ago, he could still see clearly, the forest stretching far into the distance. Now—darkness swallowed everything.
It was just like that old saying from his previous life: "You can't see your own hand in front of your face."
Matsurize couldn't even tell which direction he was walking anymore. He knew he had to stop.
The trees here were massive and tightly packed, their canopies overlapping one another. Sunlight could barely get through in the day—so now, with the moonlight blocked, the forest was pitch-black.
The only light came from faintly glowing moss and a few bioluminescent insects scattered around.
Matsurize knew it was dangerous to keep moving in such darkness. There could be large predators lurking—or he might simply trip and break a bone.
Feeling his thin, fragile frame, he realized he had to find shelter for the night.
There weren't many options. The best one he could think of was to climb a tree.
During the day, he had noticed that the trees in this forest were massive, with thick trunks and sturdy branches—strong enough to hold a person's weight.
So he decided to spend the night in one.
He tried to recall his surroundings. Earlier, he'd seen a large tree not too far away, with rough, scaly bark—perfect for climbing.
Relying on memory, Matsurize stumbled through the dark until he found it. Thankfully, it wasn't far. Otherwise, he would've been hopelessly lost.
He gripped the grooves of the tree's bark and began to climb. The bark felt like layered scales, rough and uneven—perfect handholds.
Before long, he reached the lower branches. For safety, he climbed several levels higher, until he reached a spot midway up the trunk where two branches crossed.
There, Matsurize finally sat down—ready to face the long, cold night ahead.