So, having roughly defined my goals for the future, I returned to the present and its rather mundane demands. The first of these, of course, was to satisfy my hunger, which I did by slowly chewing on strips of the previously found dried, seasoned meat. I must say, the old saying is true: "Hunger is the best cook." Despite the simplicity of the meal and the fact that its texture resembled chewing on an old boot rather than enjoying a refined feast, the pleasure this modest meal gave me was exquisite.

  With a slightly dreamy expression on my face, I began my journey into the unknown. Staying in this clearing would have meant certain death due to the nearby predators, but wandering aimlessly through the forest wasn’t exactly filling me with optimism either. The difference was that I had a purpose now—a water source. To survive, I needed to find a stream or even a river and build a shelter nearby, preferably before sunset.

  Why not right by the river? Ha, rookie mistake. The river was a source of life but also a source of danger. Predators need to drink too, and I didn’t want them dropping by to pay me a visit. Not to mention the obvious risk of unwanted guests emerging from the water to drag me into its depths.

  Yeah, I’d left behind the safe world with all its conveniences, and it was something I needed to constantly remember. A lack of caution—or sometimes just plain bad luck—could be fatal. After all, for most of our history, humans were the hunted, at least until our ancestors mastered their environment and, through tools and the beginnings of primitive technology, dominated the local ecosystem, climbing to the top of the predator pyramid. In short, nature is cruel, and I had to keep that in mind.

  As I wandered through the forest, warmed by the gentle summer sun, I pondered humanity’s place in nature when, in the distance, I heard the murmur of a stream—or at least I hoped that’s what it was. Pleased with my discovery, I cautiously approached the water source, but despite my worst expectations, nothing attacked me. Now, I had to decide: should I set up camp here or risk heading upstream, hoping to find a more suitable shelter?

  Fuck it.

  The sun was pleasantly warm, and judging by its position, it was still before noon, so why not? Keeping the stream within sight, I headed northwest. After a few hours, a bit tired, I finally found the perfect place for shelter. It felt like the merciful hand of fate was rewarding my efforts with this gift. Before me was a small crevice in the rock of a nearby cliff. Small enough that no large animal should be living inside but big enough for me to fit in, offering protection from wind and rain.

  In a word—perfect.

  I approached it cautiously, scanning my surroundings. You never know what kind of crap you might step into if you’re not careful, and it’s precisely when we’re on the verge of getting what we want that we tend to let our guard down. But, to my pleasant surprise, everything seemed fine. Without wasting more time, I gathered moss and dry leaves for bedding, laid out my blanket, used another as a cover, and even made a small storage space for my backpac.

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  I was starting to really feel its weight on my shoulders.

  Next, I began the tedious task of camouflaging my shelter from any curious eyes. It wasn’t an easy, quick, or pleasant job, but with enough effort and a knife, I eventually managed to create a curtain of branches that also acted as a makeshift roof. It wasn’t exactly a masterpiece, but it did the job.

  Looking at my handiwork with satisfaction, I realized how tired I was—and how quickly dusk was approaching. I didn’t even feel like lighting a small fire, which, in hindsight, might’ve been for the best since smoke could attract unwanted guests. And no, I wasn’t worried about animals as they instinctively fear fire, no I was thinking more about goblins or gnolls, if any lived in the area. So, I promised myself that in the future, I’d only light fires away from my hideout and the same rule would apply to skinning animals or cooking.

  I wrapped myself in my blanket, promising that tomorrow I’d start practicing meditation and sensing mana. After all, today had been eventful enough, and I needed a fresh mind for my efforts to have any real effect.

  But before I fell asleep, my mind began analyzing the sounds of the forest, layering its own interpretation on top of them. Curled up in my makeshift bed, I couldn’t help but think about the monsters that might visit me during the night. Naturally, my brain picked one of the worst possible scenarios.

  Spiders.

  Huge, hairy, fat spiders. And I’m talking about spiders at least the size of a large dog. I didn't feel like laughing when I imagined an entire group of them slowly creeping toward my shelter. Because of course in classic fantasy they hunt in packs, they’re common enough, and they don’t shy away from attacking humans.

  What made it worse was that people in the modern world forget what excellent predators spiders actually are. Their small size gives us the illusion that they’re just passive hunters waiting for prey to come to them, making them seem barely mobile. Nothing could be further from the truth. When the need arises, they can move with incredible speed, even considering their small size. And if we assume some loss of speed due to a larger, heavier body, that’s still little comfort to the poor soul they catch.

  With these cheerful thoughts, I slowly drifted off into uneasy sleep of my first night in this strange new world. The only upside? I was now the master of my own fate—I could wake up whenever I wanted and plan my day as I saw fit. So yeah, my situation did have its perks, and I needed to remember that.

  The following days were spent gathering berries, fishing and cheering when I managed to catch anything, which wasn’t always the case—and hunting. And I have to brag: during one of my trips, I stumbled upon two stray wild boar piglets. Licking my lips, I affectionately named them Bacon 1 and Bacon 2. So I managed to secure some fresh meat, though I admit with some regret, that Bacon 1 squealed pitifully while getting away.

  Why have you forsaken me Becon 1! You would be so delicious.

  So, food availability varied—nothing too dire yet, but it could change in an instant. The thought of starvation wasn’t exactly comforting.

  And, of course, I didn’t forget about my daily mana-sensing exercises, interrupted only by modest meals.

  That was my priority—because without mana, I was frankly almost defenseless. And though progress was slow, I was beginning to sense its presence around me. It was such a faint feeling that it was nearly imperceptible, like trying to use a sense I’d never used before—which honestly was the truth. On the edge of that perception, there was something I could classify as the faintest brush of a magical current weaving through reality.

  And, naturally, just when I started making noticeable progress, everything had to go to shit.