The boar's body still twitched, muscles convulsing from its death throes as Yuki staggered back, blood dripping from his blade. His chest burned, his breath harsh and uneven, but his lips curved into a trembling smile. This was his first kill in this world, and unlike sparring against Shadow, unlike training drills or swings in the courtyard, this fight had been raw, desperate, and real.
He crouched beside the corpse, observing it like a physician examining a patient. "Thick hide… blunt tusks for charging. It wasn't even ranked highly, yet it nearly skewered me." His fingers traced the shallow gash across his arm where the beast's tusk had grazed him. The wound wasn't deep, but the sting of near-death sharpened his focus more than a thousand practice swings ever could.
The forest pressed in on him—towering trees, the rustle of unseen predators, the distant screech of something unnatural. His pulse quickened. He was no longer the "protected young master" within clan walls. Here, he was a lone human in a world of fangs and claws.
"…Good," Yuki muttered, rising to his feet. "This is exactly what I wanted."
---
The next beast found him before he found it. A wolf-like creature lunged from the undergrowth, saliva dripping from jagged fangs. Its body shimmered faintly, as though coated in scales beneath its fur. Yuki reacted instinctively—rolling aside just as claws ripped into the earth where he had stood.
Too fast! His heart screamed, but his body moved. He pivoted, using momentum to slash upward, the blade catching the wolf across the side. Blood sprayed, yet the creature only grew wilder. Its eyes glowed with unnatural malice as it pounced again.
Yuki's mind raced—memories of martial forms from Earth meshed with techniques Shadow had drilled into him. Target the legs. Hamstring it. With a sudden sidestep, he slashed low, severing tendon. The wolf howled, collapsing, and Yuki drove his blade into its throat.
Panting, he pulled free. His arms shook from strain, yet a spark lit in his chest. Each fight teaches me. This… this is progress.
---
The hours bled together in a frenzy of battles.
A venom-fanged hare leapt at him from the canopy, its jaws snapping unnaturally wide. He barely avoided a fatal bite, driving his sword down through its spine. Poison hissed as it leaked from its corpse, sizzling against the moss.
A wildcat with glowing amber eyes stalked him for nearly half an hour before pouncing with terrifying precision. The fight was brutal, claws tearing his clothes, teeth grazing his shoulder. Only by unleashing his Vanishing Ghost Movement did he slip past its guard, driving a killing thrust through its chest.
Every beast left its mark—scratches, bruises, aching muscles—but Yuki felt himself evolving. His instincts sharpened; his battle experience flowed more smoothly into real combat. He was no longer hesitating between past-life knowledge and present reflexes. He was beginning to merge them.
But fatigue was merciless. By the time the moon hung high, his breath came ragged, his arms heavy as lead. He collapsed beside a boulder overlooking a small clearing, the silver glow of moonlight painting the forest in shades of death and beauty. His sword lay across his lap, bloodstained and trembling in his hands.
"…I'll collapse before dawn at this rate," he muttered. Yet even through exhaustion, his lips curved. "But this… this is real training."
---
That was when the voice came.
"I seriously don't know who you're trying to fool," the system murmured, its tone smug and amused, echoing inside his skull as if the forest itself whispered. "You're a smart person with numerous certificates in both medicine and poetry. A prodigy scouted before university, exempted from both college and higher education. Haven't I already gone through your memories from that other world?"
Yuki stiffened. His heart, already strained from battle, clenched tighter. The beasts had tested his body; this presence tested his mind. He tilted his head back against the stone, eyes narrowing. "…So you really do know everything."
"Everything worth knowing," the consciousness replied, smirking in a voice without form.
Yuki tightened his grip on his sword, though no enemy stood before him. "…Then at least tell me your name. If you're not a system, but a person, I'd like to know."
"My name," the consciousness said softly, "is your name."
Yuki furrowed his brow. "Are you kidding me? I was trying to show you basic courtesy—as fellow humans."
"Haha," the voice laughed. "And what can I do if you don't believe me? Nothing, right?"
Yuki fell silent. Normally he would have retorted, but exhaustion and instinct told him this was no ordinary exchange. He had trusted his gut in battle, and now it urged him again: this presence was not an enemy to dismiss. His eyes narrowed, thoughts racing.
"You can peek into my thoughts," he said quietly. "That much is obvious. You're intelligent—perhaps even more than me. And you were powerful when alive. Too powerful. Enough to command thousands, maybe millions. Which means you also carried responsibility. Judging from your presence here, you failed in that responsibility, and part of your soul was destroyed."
The consciousness chuckled, its tone amused yet edged. "You're sharp. But aren't you a little conceited, thinking I can only rival your intelligence, not surpass it?"
Yuki's lips curved into a smirk. "I've not even finished. If I entered an academy in this world, I'd easily claim the top seat. I was the best in my old world before coming here. My intelligence is something you'll learn not to underestimate."
Silence hung between them, heavy as the forest night. Then the laughter resumed, both mocking and delighted.
"Interesting… truly interesting," the consciousness whispered. "It's just… a pity. Really, a pity."
Yuki tilted his head, eyes glinting. "Then let's exchange information. We're alone out here. No one to interrupt. You like games, don't you? Let's play."
And in the moonlit forest, amidst corpses of beasts and the scent of blood, their laughter echoed together—one from the body of a boy, the other from the depths of his mind.