"If life presents a path with obstacles, consider napping by the side. Problems tend to solve themselves with enough time."— The Tao of Idleness, Book 2, Verse 5

It took me a full hour – I mean, I guess. I have literally no way of marking time here. Mind you, does this version of reality even have ‘hours’? Maybe I should be calling them something funky like . . . nope, not feeling all that creative right now. Hours it shall be - of wandering through these lovely peaceful woods to realise nothing more was going to happen unless I initiated it.

Naturally, I was against this notion on principle. Surely, the whole point of being a Freeloader was that I was supposed to let things happen to me, not because of me. Or, alternatively – and I recognise I might be overthinking things. Welcome to my life – was I supposed to be learning the exact opposite? Was all . . . this set up to force me to grab the thistle by the horns – you know what I mean – and stride off into the world with just my wits and my trusty stick to protect me?

Fuck knows.

However, what was clear was that, right now, it did not seem that the system was offering any new quests, and yet I was slowly levelling up just by staring at the occasional bird and feeling the breeze. It was low stakes, dull and – to be clear – I was absolutely here for it.

I checked out the Quest Progress bar hovering in my peripheral vision. It had ticked up to 21%—nice and slow, just the way I liked it. I wasn’t exactly in a rush to see what happened when it hit 100%. If it meant more work, I was out. For now, my best plan was to keep this whole “walking aimlessly” thing going. It seemed like the perfect way to stay out of trouble while the XP quietly dripped in.

As I ambled along, I passed through clusters of trees and found the faint sound of wind rustling through leaves entirely settling. I’d never been big on the Great Outdoors – it had all seemed like a bit of a mission, to be honest – but I was digging this stroll right now. The world felt beautifully calm—no NPCs wandering around, no random monsters popping out of nowhere to bite my face off. For a moment, I dared to even think that maybe, just maybe, my ruptured brain actually knew what it was up to.

Naturally, that’s when the growl started. Don’t know what else I expected, really. I’d basically Stay Puft my way directly into the shit.

It was a deep, rumbling sound that definitely was not giving off ‘friendly’. Every hair on my neck stood on end as I froze in place, eyes darting around for the source. There was a distinct rustling snuffiness from the underbrush nearby, and for a moment, I held out hope that it was just some harmless creature—like a cute bunny, or a very cheerful deer. You know, something with which I could converse, create a bond with and then have cool, non-threatening little adventures.

Yeah, sure. Because that’s absolutely the way these things work out, right?

A wolf. Because of course it was. A huge, snarling, very not-grandmother-friendly wolf. Its yellow eyes locked on me, glowing faintly with evil and hunger in the dappled light. It was close—closer than I was comfortable with. Mind you, even sharing the same continent with this fucking thing would have me on edge. It was about the size of a small pony, which wasn’t all that great, considering my only means of defence was a stick.

Danger Detected: Rabid Wolf (Lvl 5)

No shit, Sherlock. My Lazy Aura was supposed to help me avoid direct confrontations, but I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, this wolf hadn’t got the memo. “Look, buddy,” I said, holding the stick out in front of me as if that would somehow help. “I don’t want to do this anymore than you do.”

The wolf growled in a ‘Are you fucking kidding me? This is the best thing that has happened to me this week! We’re absolutely doing this’ kind of way, taking a step closer. Its fur was matted, its body rippling with muscle, and it had the kind of teeth you only saw in John Landis movies.

A plan started forming in my mind—an incredible, cast-iron, no-flaws, foolproof plan.

I legged it.

The sound of the wolf’s claws scraping against the ground followed almost instantly, and I could practically feel its hot breath on the back of my neck. My legs pumped harder than they had any right to, and my arms flailed in a way that was entirely unbecoming of a would-be hero.

Ding.

Agility Increased by 0.01%

"Well, isn’t that just fucking fantastic!" I shouted, half-laughing, half-crying as I sprinted – look, I think we’re getting to know each other better now. When I say ‘sprinted’ you know what I’m saying, right? Ambling pace, at best - through the trees.

Behind me, the wolf snarled, its heavy footsteps crashing through the leaves like a deranged freight train. I looked back just in time to see the beast lunging toward me.

Without thinking, I dove to the left, narrowly avoiding its claws as it sailed past. I hit the ground hard, rolling awkwardly into a patch of mud. Not my most elegant moment, but at least I wasn’t dead (again) yet. Hit by a van and eaten by a wolf. That was some Kenny level of self-preservation.

The wolf skidded to a halt, turning its gaze toward me once more. It snarled, shaking off the dirt on its snout, and stalked forward, clearly happy the jig was up.

Lazy Aura Activated: Enemy may lose interest in attacking you.

I kept very still, holding my breath. Please, for the love of all that is lazy, let this thing get bored. And, for a moment, the wolf hesitated, tilting its head as if reconsidering its options. I watched, heart pounding, as it sniffed me and, very gradually, began to take a step back.

Yes. Yes. That’s right. Go find someone else to bother. I’m just minding my own business here. Hell, if this really is my internal landscape, I manifest three little pigs just over that hill, and their construction company is big on straw . . . But then the wolf growled again, lowering its head and bared its teeth. Nah, it wasn’t bored. It was hungry.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Oh, come on!” I groaned, trying to scramble back to my feet. But my legs had turned to jelly, my heart was racing, and I was pretty sure that the fat lady was giving it some.

The wolf charged me again, and I swung my stick with all the strength of a man who really, really didn’t want to die again today. Sadly, it was also with the strength of a man whose idea of lifting was going for a Double Whopper. However, despite my many and various failings, the stick did actually connect with the wolf’s head, and, surprisingly, knocked it off course—just barely.

The wolf yelped in surprise – me too, mate. Me too - stumbling a little to the side, giving me a precious few seconds to attempt an escape again. I made it toward a nearby tree, hoping I could use it as some sort of shield. My arms flailed, my feet slipping in the mud, and I was gasping for breath like an asthmatic eighty-a-day man.

“Please, please, please...” I muttered between gasps, casting a desperate look back to where the wolf was back on its feet, looking not at all charmed by my reluctance to turn into dinner.

And that’s when I face-planted straight into a tree.

I went down hard, eyes streaming, face-first in the mud. My stick rolled out of my hand, uselessly clattering to the side. The world spun for a moment, my vision blurry from the impact. I mean, it wasn’t delivery van-esque, but I still couldn’t help but feel I’d led with my chin more than necessary this day. Other options are available.

The wolf loomed over me now – and, let me tell you, the word was made for this fucking thing - growling in a smug, self-satisfied way. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable pain. Maybe I’d get a third go around? Maybe something even less batshit crazy next time? To be honest, I was actually ready for all this to end. I mean, not ready ready—for all my faults, that level of pity party has never been on the cards. More like the kind of readiness that comes from knowing you’ve been dealt a terrible hand and there’s nothing more you can do about it. Hey, I’d even run for a bit. How much more did I have to give?

The wolf’s growl was so close I could feel the vibrations through my nose.

This was it.

And then it wasn’t.

Instead of the expected sensation of teeth ripping into my oh-so-tender flesh, I heard a whoosh—a sharp wind slicing through the air—and then... silence.

I cracked one eye open, hoping the wolf had suddenly decided that I wasn’t worth the effort. Spoiler alert: that was the situation, but it hadn’t been the wolf’s decision. What I saw made me certain I had died and gone to heaven—or maybe Valhalla.

Standing above me was a woman—short, stacked (okay, I’m sure there’s a more woke way of saying that, but I’ve just nearly been eaten by a wolf. Cut me and my misogynistic ass some slack) and decked out in armour that looked both practical and stylish. Her sword was still drawn, gleaming with a faint blue glow, and, most importantly, the wolf was lying on the ground next to me, very much dead.

She hadn’t just killed it. She’d absolutely wrecked it.

I blinked, trying to piece together what had just happened. One second, I was chum, and the next... well, she showed up like Arnie’s more attractive sister.

“You still in one piece?” she asked, her tone completely casual, as if she hadn’t just taken down a level 5 wolf with one whack.

I tried to respond, but the words caught in my throat. I was still in last night’s soaking wet clothes, bathed in wolf blood and covered in mud. This . . . this warrior babe had just saved me. I wasn’t sure if I should be grateful, embarrassed or very horny—I’m pleased to say that I multi-tasked and managed all three.

“Uh...” I said, my voice sounding disappointingly unheroic.

She raised an eyebrow, her eyes flicking up and down my sorry state. “You look somewhat dishevelled, sir.”

Okay, so you know some things don’t need stressing, right? I was lying face-down in the mud, soaked, panting like I’d just run a marathon, and reaching for a stick like it was the Holy Grail. I’m all for brutal honesty – I mean, I’m not. I’m absolutely not. Give me warm and fuzzy lies any day of the week – but some things don’t need stressing.

“You, uh... you killed it,” I said dumbly because apparently, any wit and charm I once possessed had checked out the moment the van hit me.

“Yes,” she shrugged. “I wasn’t sure how much longer you were planning to lie there, and it looked like you could use the help.”

“Yeah... thanks,” I said, trying to push myself up onto my knees. Mud squelched beneath me like the loudest, wettest fart in the world. I felt my pride - and other things - shrivel up into nothing. I glanced over at the dead wolf again, its eyes glassy, its body still. I’d been so close to dying.

The woman sighed, sheathing her sword with a pretty cool flourish. “Don’t mention it. That thing would have ripped you apart if I hadn’t shown up. I’ve been sent out to see what is taking down the local merchants. Seems we have our answer. What were you doing wandering around here with no weapons? Didn’t you read the warnings?” She looked at my clothes, eyebrows raising. “And what in the name of the Maker are you wearing?”

“All good questions. I guess I wasn’t really thinking straight.”

“Clearly.” She folded her arms which, incidentally, made her even more . . . is ‘buxom’ a better word? Answers on a postcard, please. As she did so, her expression shifted into something more like amusement. “Tell me, sir, do you always have this much trouble staying alive, or was today a special occasion?”

Babes, you have no idea. I finally managed to get back on my feet. Mud dripped from my clothes, and I obviously smelt like a wet dog with BO, but hey, at least I wasn’t being eaten. You took the wins where they came. “In my defence, I don’t normally run into wolves in my day-to-day life,” I said. “All of this is a bit new to me.”

I thought I saw a flicker of curiosity there. She looked at my getup again. “New to you? Really? And I suppose you just dropped in from somewhere else?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Something like that.” That’s it, James. Play it cool and mysterious. The girls like that, right?

She studied me for a moment. Then, showing no signs she considered me anything more interesting than a lost puppy, she shrugged. “Well, if you’re planning to stick around here, you’re going to need a better weapon than... whatever that was.” She gestured to the stick I had recovered and was now clutching in my hand.

“No argument from me,” I wasn’t going to argue with her. She clearly knew what she was talking about—unlike me, who was, as usual, just trying to survive on the fringes of effort.

The warrior took a step closer to me, her armour clinking softly as she moved. “What’s your name?”

“James.”

“James...” She seemed to test the name out, then nodded, as if deciding it was acceptable. “I’m Lia.”

“Lia,” I repeated, hoping I didn’t sound as awkward as I was feeling. “Well, uh, thanks again. For saving me. Appreciated. Lia.”

“Don’t mention it,” she replied with the first genuine smile she’d offered me. “Seriously, don’t. Not to anyone. I have a ‘uncaring, lone wolf, ice maiden’ reputation to maintain.”

I wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that, but it felt like she flirting with me. But I truly sucked at reading that sort of thing right. Why, my ex had been fucking my best mate all the time I was inside, and it never even entered my head that what they were doing when visiting was ‘flirting’. I thought they hated each other. However, before I could clarify further, she turned on her heels and started walking away, not waiting for me to keep up.

“Wait!” I called after her, stumbling a bit as I tried to follow. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere you need to worry about,” she called over her shoulder. “But if you’re smart, you’ll find a fortified village or something before you get yourself killed again.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence!”

She didn’t respond. I watched her for a moment, debating whether or not to follow. She was clearly more capable than me—I mean, obviously—but the idea of tagging along behind someone that competent made me feel even shitter about my life choices than usual. However, the idea of wandering around this place on my own – even if ‘this’ was some version of a figment of my dying imagination – with more of those wolves lurking in the shadows... well, that didn’t sound too appealing either.

I jogged to catch up with her. “Mind if I tag along for a bit? I swear I’ll stay out of your way.”

She glanced at me, her lips quirking into something that might have been a smirk. “Tag along if you want. But don’t expect me to babysit you.”

“Deal,” I said, trying to ignore the two key facts. Firstly, that she was so badass she’d literally just saved my life from a wolf that was about to use me as a chew toy. And secondly, that I’d watched far too many . . . movies where babysitters with giant racks played fairly crucial, energetic roles.