Luc's eyes opened slowly, the world around him blurred and muted. The mist had returned, hanging low over the forest like a shroud, soft and silent. Everything felt muted, as if the entire landscape was holding its breath.

He blinked, letting the scene settle in, trying to remember where he was, how he got here. It took a moment for the thought to form.

I'm still alive huh?

The thought drifted through his mind, strangely calm after everything he'd been through.

His hand drifted to his chest, expecting to find a gaping wound. Instead, his fingers brushed over nothing but dried blood. The memory of the searing pain, of jagged rock tearing through his flesh, flickered at the edges of his mind.

He knew he had some kind of regeneration ability, but this… this was beyond anything he could have imagined.

Suddenly, hunger surged through him, making his stomach cramp and growl. Luc pressed a hand to his abdomen, but he ignore it.

For a moment, he didn’t move.

He sat there beside the lake, the water’s surface calm and steady, feeling disconnected from everything around him.

He didn’t want to think, didn’t want to act. He just sat, letting the quiet settle over him like a blanket, his breath the only sound he could hear.

Without much thought, he reached out to touch the water, intending to trail his fingers through its surface. But as soon as his skin made contact, he pulled back sharply. The water was unnaturally cold, nothing like the river he'd encountered before.

He pulled his hand close to his chest, staring at the calm, icy surface.

Time passed slowly, each minute stretching into the next. Luc sat there, barely moving, his mind almost blank.

Part of him wondered if he should feel more. Panic, maybe. Relief at being alive. But there was just... emptiness.

Eventually, the hunger became too much to ignore.

With a deep breath, Luc pushed himself to his feet, feeling the weight of his body as if gravity had tightened its grip.

Food, I need food.

He turned away from the lake, his steps leading him back along the path he’d taken before. Back to where the darkwolf had fallen. He was planning to cook it—if he could manage that in this strange place.

Maybe there'd be something edible along the way. One of those magical fruits. As he walked, his eyes searched the trees. But the mist seemed to swallow everything, leaving only vague shapes and shadows. No fruit.

When he passed through the spot where the earth drake had battled those white-furred monkeys, nothing had changed. No corpses littered the ground, and the landscape remained untouched by the drake’s power. Luc took it as a sign. Whatever changes happened at night didn’t seem to affect this misty realm. Not that it made him feel any better.

He kept moving, trudging through the thickening fog, his feet feeling heavy. The world blurred around him, the edges softening into a dreamlike haze. He blinked, trying to focus, but the fog clung to everything.

As he neared the spot where he’d killed the darkwolf, a shape began to form in the fog. It was the wolf’s corpse, lying exactly where he’d left it.

So it's true, What I killed out there follows me here.

He knelt beside the carcass, his hands moving on their own. The wolf’s teeth gleamed dully in the dim light as Luc pull it out. Each one came free with a sickening pop.

As he worked, Luc’s mind wandered. He thought of his spear and knife, lost in the chaos of his near-death experience. A pang of regret hit him

With the teeth finally extracted, Luc turned his attention to the trees.

He needed a handle for his new weapon, something solid enough to hold.

His eyes searched the misty outlines, looking for a branch that would do. Finally, he found one—not too thick, not too thin. Just right for gripping. .

Luc sat cross-legged on the damp ground, the wolf tooth and branch held tightly in his grasp. He began to whittle, using the sharp edge of the tooth to scrape away the wood. It was slow, tedious work.

As he carved, his thoughts drifted back to his old life—his apartment, his job. The little details that had once consumed him. Reports, meetings, office politics. How small and distant it all seemed now, like a memory from someone else’s life. He wondered how he could have ever cared about such things.

A bitter laugh escaped him, pulling him out of his thoughts. Here he was, making primitive weapons from monster teeth, and yet part of him still longed for those mundane problems. It was absurd. But then again, this whole situation was absurd.

The knife slowly took shape in his hands. It was crude, far from anything a skilled craftsman would admire, but it was a weapon. And in this place, that was all that mattered.

He looked at the darkwolf’s carcass, its fur matted with dried blood. The thought of eating it made his stomach churn, but the gnawing hunger wouldn’t be ignored. He gripped his makeshift knife, feeling the rough handle dig into his palm. “Well,” he muttered to himself, “how hard can this be?”

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It’s hard.

It turned out to be harder than he’d thought.

Luc had never butchered an animal before, and it showed in every awkward, clumsy cut.

He started by trying to peel off the skin, but his strokes were more tearing than slicing. Blood and other fluids oozed out, soaking his hands, his clothes. The smell of raw meat hung heavy in the air, thick and pungent, making him gag more than once.

As he struggled to cut through the meat, his knife hit something solid. He frowned, digging deeper, his fingers searching until they found something smooth and round.

He pulled it free, revealing a small, red sphere. It pulsed faintly in his hand. “What the hell?” Luc muttered, turning it over in his palm. It looked like a crystal, but there was something about it—something unsettling.

Shaking his head, he set it aside. He couldn’t afford to be distracted. He had more important things to deal with—like filling his empty stomach.

Luc finally managed to separate the meat, but as he stared at the pile of raw flesh, another challenge loomed: starting a fire. He’d seen it done before, on survival shows, where some grizzled expert made it look so simple, but doing it himself was proving difficult.

He gathered twigs and leaves, arranging them in a small pile. Then he picked up two sticks and started rubbing them together.

Hours passed on. The mist around him thickened and thinned, but Luc barely noticed. All his focus was on the sticks in his hands and the tinder at his feet. His arms ached, his stomach growled, but no spark appeared.

“Come on,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Just... one... spark!”

Finally, a tiny ember flickered to life. Luc’s heart jumped.

Carefully, he fed it leaves and twigs until a small flame danced before him.

He sat back, letting out a shaky laugh. He’d done it. He’d made fire.

Should I worship this fire like primitive people?

As he looked at the raw meat, His stomach growled again, and despite his hesitation, he knew he didn’t have a choice.

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” he said, skewering a piece on a stick.

As the meat began to sizzle, his thoughts drifted back to the chaos of the previous night.

He’d been too busy running, too focused on staying alive, to really take in what had happened.

Firstly, he met with the darkwolf mother he met when he kill her cub. Probably the mother has marked and following his scent. Luckily, he won. if the darkwolf not harshly injured, probably I'm the one sitting in her belly right now.

Can I regenerate from something like that? Luc chuckled bitterly. He need to think about what possible to be healed and what not.

Not long after that fight, the monkeys had come. He surrounded by the monkey-like creature.

I don't even know why they are chasing me, Is it because they hate human?

A bitter chuckle escaped his lips. "My first time experiencing racism, and it was from a bunch monkeys. Hah!" The laugh died in his throat, leaving a sour taste. He poked at the cooking meat, watching fat drip into the fire with a hiss.

Why had they chased him so relentlessly? Was their hatred of humans really that intense? Or was it something else? Luc realized he knew almost nothing about this place or its creatures.

His thoughts shifted to the earth drake, that blue-scaled behemoth that had reshaped the very ground beneath their feet. He hadn't even known the earth drake could do that, because when it fighting the darkwolf, he was too busy running to notice.

“Earth magic,” he muttered, flipping the meat over. The landscape had changed completely, rocks jutting up from the ground, chasms appearing where solid ground had been. Yet somehow, the darkwolf had survived.

The meat started to burn, and Luc pulled it from the fire. He stared at it, torn between hunger and disgust. Then, with a resigned sigh, he took a cautious bite. The taste was strong, gamey, but it filled the emptiness gnawing at his insides. As he chewed, his mind buzzed with plans, with thoughts of the dangers ahead.

This world was more dangerous than he'd thought. Creatures with strange powers roamed freely, changing the world as they pleased. And here he was, with nothing but a crude knife and his instincts.

Luc swallowed, the taste of darkwolf meat lingering in his mouth. Luc swallowed, the taste of darkwolf meat lingering on his tongue. If he wanted to survive, he’d need to adapt, to learn, to become something more than he was. Otherwise, he’d just be another meal for the monsters in this forest.

As he finished his small meal, Luc looked down at his chest. He clearly remembered the spike of earth piercing through him and the pain that followed. But here he was, still alive with no injuries.

He knew he had some kind of regeneration ability, maybe given to him by whoever sent him here. What surprised him was that this ability seemed to heal everything, even life-threatening wounds.

While it can heal my chest, what if my brain is the pierced one? Can I still survive? There were so many possibilities about what could and couldn't be healed by this regeneration, but Luc had no idea where the limits were.

Luc's throat felt dry. The darkwolf meat had filled his stomach, but now he was thirsty. He got up, his legs shaky and unsteady, and made his way to the river.

When he reached the water's edge, Luc saw his reflection and stopped. He barely recognized the person staring back—a stranger covered in mud and blood, with wild hair tangled with twigs and leaves.

"Well, you look great," he muttered to himself, shaking his head.

With a sigh, Luc removed his boxer shorts, which fell apart in his hands. He stepped into the river, the cold water stinging his skin. He dunked his head underwater and held his breath. When he resurfaced, he had a sudden thought: What if I drowned? Would I still alive then?

He shook his head, sending water droplets flying. Let’s not test that theory

For a while, he floated, swimming lazily, enjoying the moment of calm.

Clean but still dripping, Luc headed back to the cave. His makeshift home looked even more pitiful now that he was naked. A pile of darkwolf skin lay in one corner, next to the remaining meat. His crude weapons—teeth and claws—were scattered around, along with the strange red crystal he’d found earlier.

He picked up the tattered remains of his boxer shorts, holding them up. They were beyond saving, barely holding together.

"Guess I'm going au naturel," Luc said with a chuckle. "At least there's no one around to see."

He looked around at his few possessions, feeling a growing sense of determination. He might be naked and armed with nothing but scraps, but he was alive. And as long as he was breathing, he had a chance.

He picked up one of the teeth, its edge still sharp. There was work to be done, plans to be made. This forest wanted to kill him? Fine. He'd just have to kill it first.