Chapter 84
Written by Bayzo Albion
From the foliage emerged... a rabbit.
I exhaled sharply, slumping back in relief.
"At least you don't want to kill me," I muttered under my breath.
But the rabbit halted abruptly, fixing me with an unblinking stare. Its pupils ignited with a crimson glow, and it spoke in a gravelly voice that wasn't its own:
"You were a god. Now you're prey. Welcome to reality, Balthazar."
In an instant, it vanished, as if it had never been. Only the flattened grass marked where it had stood.
I squeezed my eyes shut, my heart pounding like a trapped animal's, erratic and desperate.
This wasn't a game anymore.
Not a simulation.
This was a trial—harsh, unrelenting, and all too real.
"Whoa, hold on..." I stared at the empty space where the rabbit had been, my mind reeling. "What the hell was that?"
I rose slowly, the thought hammering in my skull: A talking rabbit. Eyes like burning coals. Words like a death sentence.
Then, like a thunderbolt striking my core, realization dawned:
"Wait… you don't mean… I'm going to lose my manly strength and turn into a rabbit myself, do I?"
I froze. My face drained of all color.
"This is… this is the worst news I've ever heard. Even worse than being thrown off my own throne."
My knees buckled on their own, and I collapsed to the ground, staring up through the branches at the pale sky.
"Not gods. Not humans. Not monsters... but rabbits. Is this how they punish me?" The words escaped in a bitter hiss.
I balled my fists, rage intertwining with terror, fueling a fire in my chest.
"No," I breathed out, steeling myself. "I won't rot in this forest, degenerating into some furry abomination."
I hauled myself up, swaying but resolute, my voice gaining strength.
"I need to get out. Find a city. People. Some semblance of civilization. If I'm no longer a god, then at least I'm human."
I took a step forward. Branches creaked overhead, as if issuing a warning. But I pressed on, determination overriding the fear.
Yet each stride grew heavier, the forest conspiring against me.
First, it was the gnawing hunger in my gut. Then it twisted into a throbbing ache, making my head spin with dizziness.
In the past, I'd simply open a spatial pocket—roast meat, fresh bread, fine wine materializing at my fingertips. Whatever I desired. Now, that pocket was a void, and its emptiness pressed harder than the hunger itself, a constant reminder of my fall.
My lips cracked, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth like sandpaper. Spotting a glimmering stream weaving between gnarled roots, I lunged toward it. I scooped up a handful and gulped it down greedily. The water tasted metallic, bitter as rust. I choked, sputtering and nearly retching onto the bank.
"So this is it..." I rasped, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "Being human. No illusions, no pockets. Just an empty stomach and foul water."
My abdomen clenched again, demanding sustenance. A gray shadow darted in the underbrush—I froze. Another rabbit. Real, warm, alive. Meat.
I raised my hand, willing a spell into existence. Faint sparks of mana flickered at my fingertips—feeble, barely controllable. Yesterday, that would have been enough to fell a bird mid-flight or halt a beast in its tracks. But now...
The incantation fizzled, dissipating harmlessly into the soil. The rabbit bounded away, vanishing into the foliage with effortless grace.
"Damn it..." I sank heavily onto a root, frustration boiling over. "Can't even muster basic magic to catch a rabbit. A god who can't secure his own meal."
I clenched my fists tighter, hunger morphing into seething rage.
> System: World error detected. Implementing new update.
> System: Character stats window now accessible.
> Stats:
Name: Balthazar
Level: 0
Strength: 0
Agility: 0
Endurance: 0
Constitution: 0
Magic: 1
Will: 0
Soul: 0
I gaped at the shimmering display hovering before me. The numbers—or lack thereof—stared back like a mocking verdict.
"My true self always hated these stats..." I murmured, a wry smile tugging at my lips despite everything. "He believed no digits could capture real power. Life isn't measured in +1 to agility or +2 to constitution."
I chuckled bitterly.
"He'd say: 'Happiness isn't in the numbers. It's in your actions. What you've done, not what the system scribbles about you.'"
But here I was, confronting this window, and I knew: like it or not, these figures were my new reality.
The zeros gleamed like taunts.
Strength: 0. Agility: 0. Endurance: 0. Will: 0. Soul: 0.
As if someone had meticulously scrubbed me clean, down to the bone, and labeled me: "Worthless."
A shudder ran through me—sticky shame, alive and coiling in my gut.
Then, a snap ignited within. Not noble resolve or divine inspiration. Just raw, stubborn defiance.
"Fine," I snarled at the screen. "You want numbers? I'll give you numbers. But I decide what they become."
It reminded me of that first awakening in paradise—stark naked, utterly exposed. My initial act? Enhancing my manhood. Yes, that foolish impulse, but in the moment, it felt paramount. Back then, I thought divine power should grant not just dominion, but grandeur.
I lifted the hem of my tattered shorts and glanced down at my diminutive "beanstalk sprout."
"Hope you grow into something worthwhile," I muttered with grave sincerity, as if addressing a comrade before an epic quest.
The hunger clawed at me now, a beast scratching from inside, relentless and unforgiving. I eyed the rabbit nibbling grass mere feet away, and it hit me: salvation. Flesh. Survival.
But... how?
I knew no hunting techniques. Setting a trap meant waiting, and hunger brooked no delays—it had already eroded my thoughts, leaving only dull fury and trembling limbs.
I snatched a nearby stone and charged. I hurled it with all my might—it sailed wide. The rabbit didn't even flinch, merely twitching its whiskers before resuming its meal, oblivious to my "lethal" assault.
"Damn..." I dropped to my knees, my body too frail, too childlike. No power, no precision. I couldn't even harm a simple creature.
Desperate, I grabbed a long stick and prodded at another apple on a branch. It tumbled free, landing in my palm. I bit into it ravenously, juice dribbling down my chin, but the meager, tart flesh barely dented the void in my stomach.
"Alright... time for a trap," I exhaled, resolve hardening.
With quivering hands, I fashioned a crude snare from twisted roots, baiting it with the apple's remnants. The wind rustled the leaves overhead, my heart thundering as if I were the one ensnared.
The rabbit approached. Cautious, almost knowing, as if sensing my watchful eyes. It nosed toward the bait... and the loop snapped shut.
It thrashed wildly, bucking and twisting in a frantic bid for freedom. I lunged, pinning it to the ground. My pulse raced in tandem with its frantic heartbeat. In my grasp, it was alive—warm fur tickling my palms, tiny body quivering. Its eyes, wide and dark, locked onto mine, pleading in silence.
I raised the stone.
But my hand halted mid-air.
"God..." I whispered, voice cracking. "It's just a rabbit. A small, innocent thing. And I... I have to kill it to survive?"
The creature jerked again, and I tightened my hold, stone still poised. But I couldn't bring it down.
Hunger roared within, demanding blood, urging the strike. Yet my heart constricted, empathy twisting like a knife—as if I were the one trapped, staring death in the face.
I shut my eyes, the weight of the moment crashing over me. This wasn't just about survival. It was about who I'd become in this unforgiving world.
Hunger won out in the end. I hefted the stone and brought it down with all my might.
The rabbit twitched violently, and in that instant, a piercing, gut-wrenching scream tore through the air—almost human in its agony. It thrashed and wailed, sending chills racing down my spine, raising every hair on my body as I hammered the stone against its skull again and again, until finally, the body went limp.
When the silence settled, I realized my hands were slick with blood. Warm, sticky, undeniably real.
For the first time, a wild thought gripped me: What if... I'm back in the world of the living? Everything felt too tangible, too raw. The pain was sharp, the sounds too vivid.
> System: Creature "Rabbit" defeated. Experience +1.
Just one curt message, cold and indifferent, as if I'd merely squashed a bug underfoot.
I stood there, panting heavily, staring at the lifeless bundle of fur cradled in my bloodied hands. Of course, I had no knife—just gnawing hunger and sheer necessity driving me forward.
I tore through the underbrush for anything sharp—snapping branches, overturning stones, clawing at the soil until my fingers were raw and black with dirt. Nearly an hour passed before I found a flat rock with a jagged edge. Crude, but it would have to do.
Skinning the carcass with that makeshift blade was agony. The hide peeled in uneven strips, meat tearing with sickening snaps, warm blood slicking my hands and speckling my face. Still, I pushed through.
I laid the raw chunks on a heated stone over my tiny fire. Acrid smoke mixed with the metallic reek of blood, and when I finally bit in, the taste was awful—no salt, no spices, just tough, scorched flesh with an iron aftertaste.
But I devoured it anyway, chewing through the pain in my jaw.
And then it hit me: this was the best meal I'd had since arriving.
I licked the blood from my fingers and exhaled.
"Welcome to reality, Balthazar," I muttered.