Chapter 1: My Life Begins in Another World

When I woke up, I was on my back, and a cloudless blue sky hung high above me. Sitting up, I realized that I’d awoken in a woodland clearing surrounded by lush, green plant life. At a glance, it looked like any other forest in Japan, but that was impossible. I was no longer on Earth, or even in the same universe.

I was now in a completely new world.

⌗⌗⌗

Our story began on a day like any other.

Back on Earth, I used to work as a software engineer, toiling away seven days a week plus holidays and overtime in order to meet my release deadlines. One night, I was on my way home after work. It was around midnight, and I was heading toward the train station. Exhaustion had already claimed me, and I was dead on my feet, but then I saw a stray cat stagger onto the road. It seemed as unsteady as I was, and as I looked on, it stumbled right into the middle of the street.

Suddenly, I noticed that a truck was barreling straight for it.

Maybe the driver was drowsy or on their phone; maybe they were just being careless. Regardless, they showed no sign of slowing down at all and gave no indication that they’d even seen the cat. I was also barely managing to stay awake at that moment, so my speculation could be unreliable.

As soon as I processed what was happening, I sprinted for the cat. The truck and I were converging from different directions, and the race was on. It was anyone’s guess who might reach the cat first—the truck had me beat in terms of speed, but I’d started closer to my target.

I rapidly closed in on the cat, lifted it up by the torso, and flung it out of the way. Unfortunately, considering what happened next, the truck won our contest by a landslide. What did it win, you ask? That’s a discussion for another time.

There was a sickening thud. The impact knocked me off my feet and tossed me into the air. Nonsensically, some stories about parents lifting vehicles to save their kids rushed through my head as everything faded to black.

⌗⌗⌗

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before I’d awoken, or to be more precise, regained consciousness. A blank white expanse surrounded me, and I was floating within it. I couldn’t even see my own body, but I felt both perfectly alert and half asleep at the same time. It was as if I’d been suspended in a vague state of semi-existence.

“Hey, you’re awake?” The words were delivered in the voice of a young woman.

“If you can call it that, then yes,” I replied, confused by my current perception of reality.

I wasn’t exactly hearing her (I assumed that the voice belonged to a woman). To clarify, no sound waves were reaching my ears. I also wasn’t really speaking, since speech was defined as air passing from the lungs through the vocal cords to produce vibrations. Telepathy might be the most fitting term for our communication; she was projecting her thoughts toward me, and likewise, I sent my thoughts toward her. It was a circuitous interpretation of a conversation.

“Looks like I’ve managed to preserve your soul, even if I had to overreach my authority to do so,” said the voice.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“In short, you died in your world. Normally, your soul would’ve been disassembled and repurposed into new resources,” she explained. “You were a software engineer, right? In technical terms, the section of memory containing your soul would’ve been deallocated if I hadn’t locked it first. I wasn’t supposed to do that though.”

“I more or less understand the situation,” I said. “So, now what?”

I felt oddly serene, even though she’d just casually informed me that I was dead.

“That’s good. I want you to stay calm. I’m terribly sorry, but I’ve had to temporarily rewire your consciousness to suppress your fear of dying. Otherwise, your soul would start to deteriorate—in other words, the garbage collector would’ve seen the flag for deallocation and automatically deleted your soul to free up memory. At that point, you would’ve ceased to exist both physically and figuratively.”

“All right,” I said, still at peace.

“Thank you for your understanding. Moving along, do you remember saving a stray cat?”

“Yes, of course. I love cats.”

That’s right. Although I was over forty and my looks regularly attracted police attention, I loved small animals and was particularly fond of cats. That day, I’d been physically worn out from the combination of my advancing age and lots of consecutive overtime; I’d been mentally exhausted from burnout.

My love of cats was the final star in a miraculous constellation—albeit, an unlucky one—and the result was an unthinkable heroic dash to my death.

All of that rambling boiled down to one simple statement: I love cats.

“That cat was me,” said the voice. “I was on duty as a Watchdog, but of course, that means nothing to you. Let’s see, are you familiar with parallel universe theory?”

“Yes, it often appears in sci-fi and fantasy,” I replied.

“Good. That’ll make this conversation easier. My job is to patrol different universes and watch for catastrophic cross-world events. That is, any event in one world that would negatively impact another.”

I sensed a trace of pride in her not-voice. Indeed, it was a job that no human could perform. “That’s pretty impressive,” I said honestly.

“There are pros and cons to the job, but more cons, I’d say.”

I guess I shouldn’t have bothered with the compliment.

“In any case, yes, it’s not something that just anyone can do. There are dire consequences if a Watchdog misses a warning sign and allows an event to proceed unhindered. Anyway, enough about me—back to the explanation.” She sat up straighter (at least, that’s how it felt to me) and carried on. “While I was patrolling your world as a cat, I made a mistake that should’ve led to my death. That’s when you saved me. Currently, we’re in a liminal space that I can access.”

“Could that truck really have killed you?” I asked straight out. It’d be a vital flaw in the system for someone with such a critical responsibility to be mortal, just the same as any other living being.

“My temporary body would’ve died, but not my soul. My body for any given world is chosen from the native fauna, and my physical abilities are limited accordingly. It’d be hard for me to pass unnoticed otherwise. This way, even if I die, I leave no trace. However, dying is still a major problem because I can’t fulfill my duty until I get another body. I’m sure that losing your physical body has left you in a bit of a pickle too.”

A pickle, she said, as if this wasn’t the biggest mess I’d ever been in.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I have one caveat to add to our parallel universes discussion. Do you think that most worlds only differ from each other in trivial ways?”

“Yes, as far as I know. At least, that’s the way it’s portrayed in books and games.”

“Here are two comparative scenarios: In one world, you decide to stop for a drink after work, thus causing you to take a train that happens to be delayed, so you return home very late. In another world, you go straight home without a hitch. Do you think this is how multiverse theory functions?”

“Seems right.”

“To be blunt, that’s not how it works. Worlds aren’t actually created on the turn of a dime. In our example, your decision to get a drink becomes part of that world’s natural equilibrium. If you were to go straight home on your regular train instead, you would throw off the balance.”

The disembodied voice continued, “Maybe you arrive home early and overhear a couple arguing. You report it to the police. The couple’s relationship crumbles. As a result, they never give birth to a child, and the harmony of the world is disrupted. The whole thing is a bit more nuanced, but the saying still applies—there are no might-have-beens in history.”

The explanation made sense as long as I didn’t think about it too hard. I kept quiet and urged her to continue.

“I’ve gotten a little sidetracked, but in a nutshell, that’s how parallel worlds work. Needless to say, since universes don’t infinitely branch off each other, there aren’t any clones of you in worlds similar to your own. There’s only you, and you weren’t supposed to have died yet. When you saved my life at the expense of your own, you introduced a bug into the system—one that affects the world, your own life, and mine as well. Three fates were changed, each in a different way, and world alterations are preventable only if we fill the hole you’ve left behind. The quickest way to restore balance would’ve been to rewrite the timeline and say that you miraculously survived without a scratch. However, that road is closed to us. Fundamentally, my job as a Watchdog is to report on the state of the multiverse; my accounts of events are logged in many different worlds. Because I witnessed it, your death in that world cannot be reversed.”

Our conversation had taken a drastic turn for the worse. “Then it sounds like we’re out of options. Why did you bother preserving my soul?” I asked.

“There is one more option. We can find a replacement for you in your world, and then send you to a different one,” she replied.

“That’s possible? From what you’ve said so far, it doesn’t seem like that would be allowed,” I remarked.

“Hmm, how do I put this?” she pondered aloud. “There are several worlds that are experiencing the same predicament as yours; those universes contain voids where someone’s existence should be. We can send people across the multiverse to fill those open spaces. That said, you’ll have to choose from the worlds in my docket, so there’s a limited number of places you can go.”

“Basically, you’re swapping me with someone else, right?” I asked.

“You catch on quick! That’s the gist of it. You’d still be considered dead in your original world, but you can live on in a new one.”

“I see. Can I ask a question?”

“Of course. Please do,” she said.

“Why keep me alive at all?”

“Oh, right. I was going to get to that. One reason is for my peace of mind; I wouldn’t be able to rest easy knowing that someone died because of my mistake. Don’t tell anyone I said that though. I want you to remember that we need to preserve the system’s equilibrium.”

“Strangely, I find it hard to accept that you’re now asking me to take this in stride,” I said. “In any case, I don’t have a choice, right?”

“I’m sorry, but no, you don’t. However, you’ll be able to choose your destination. Plus, in your new world, you’ll be granted certain privileges—cheat abilities. They won’t be anything that’d break the rules of the world or the multiverse, so rest assured, you can ask for whatever you want.”

“Let’s see...” I said, taking my time to think. My cheat ability couldn’t be so overpowered that it would throw the world off-kilter, huh? How do I make the most out of my second shot at life?

After a moment, I had my answer. “Well, I like making scale models and working with my hands in my time off, so I’d like to live in a place—preferably alone—where I can create things for a living. I’d like a compatible skill set for that life. And as I said before, I like cats, so if I could have a quiet life with a cat as a companion, I’d have no complaints.”

“All right,” she said, pausing to consider the options. “Out of the available candidates, the world that would best accommodate your requests is a typical fantasy realm with swords and sorcery. How does that sound?”

“Fine by me.”

“All right. Now, on to your skills. What do you want to make?”

“I’ve always wanted to try swordsmithing,” I suggested.

“Then a blacksmith would likely be the most fitting profession. You’ll need language and crafting skills. I can also throw in some fighting skills for your self-defense. As a trade-off, you’ll have the bare minimum in magical ability, but you won’t need it for day-to-day life anyway. What do you think?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Last but not least,” she continued, “how old do you want to be? Pick whatever age calls to you, whether it’s ten years old or seventy. You won’t want to be too old, I suppose, but it’s all the same to me.”

“Hmmm, I don’t want to be a kid again...” But that said, I did want enough time to enjoy my second life. I gave it some thought and landed on something in the middle.

⌗⌗⌗

After I gave an answer, my consciousness slowly faded...and when I woke up, I was already in this forest. I stood up cautiously, expecting some dizziness, but I shouldn’t have been worried. I looked down at my hands, but I couldn’t tell whether I was now the age that I’d requested. Hands change slowly over time, I suppose.

As I took a breath, a sharp pain lanced through my head.

While your body is adjusting to the new environment, you may get a headache. That’s proof that your new skills, knowledge, and memories are syncing up with your body, so don’t worry.

“So this is what she’d meant. Did it have to hurt this much? She wasn’t going to give me any particularly powerful skills anyway,” I grumbled to myself.

I’ll prepare a place where you can live and work as a blacksmith, along with some provisions, like food and ingredients.

Or so she’d said, but looking around, there was nothing that stood out among the trees. Maybe it wasn’t around here. While it was unlikely that she would’ve purposefully started me far away from my would-be home, it wasn’t impossible. It’d be extremely irritating if that were the deal though. In the worst-case scenario, the place could be so far away that I’d never find it. This clearing where I’d woken up would’ve been the perfect spot for a house, but it was currently empty, so I struck out to explore my surroundings.

When I stepped into the forest proper, the fresh, woodsy scent hit me anew. The sunlight filtered through the foliage, and it was pleasantly cool beneath the trees. The leaves rustled gently, along with the occasional chitter and patter above me. There must’ve been some small animals playing amongst the branches.

The trees themselves were no different from those in my original world. Elegant and tall, each tree was a pillar that held up the sky with its crown. I touched one of the trunks; the rough bark felt the same as well. As far as I could tell, there weren’t any dryads emerging from the woodwork either.

I heard a scratching sound in the branches close by. Looking over, I saw a green, squirrel-like creature pop out from amongst the leaves. I’d never heard of any squirrels with green fur back on Earth, so this creature must’ve been unique to this world. Seeing its appearance struck home the fact that I was in a new universe!

I was so excited that I walked toward it without thinking. It shrunk back in fear, and I soon came to my senses. Even if it looked adorable, with its chubby cheeks and round eyes, it might be a dangerous animal. Maybe it was even venomous. I was in a completely unfamiliar environment, so I had to be on my guard.

When my headache subsided, a great torrent of knowledge flooded my mind. It was as if I’d just installed a new knowledge base. At least now I wouldn’t be done in by my own ignorance. It would’ve been pathetic if I were decapitated for unwittingly insulting a noble, for example. However, even though the newly installed data had come with a general picture of this world, including information about the fauna, I didn’t know any of the nitty-gritty details. What kind of habits did that green squirrel have? Was it venomous? I wished I had someone to guide me.

My stroll had yielded no great discoveries, so I turned back around and suddenly caught sight of something large back where I’d come from.

“What in the world?” I muttered. It definitely hadn’t been there when I’d first passed through. Or maybe it’d been invisible, who knows?

The large something turned out to be a small log cabin. I guessed this was where I was supposed to live. The cabin looked safe enough, but I approached it with caution nonetheless. As I drew closer, I could instinctively perceive that there was no one inside. Maybe heightened senses were part of my resurrection package as well.

I glanced through the window lattice, and the cabin looked empty inside. Just to be safe, I headed toward the door in a half-crouch, so I couldn’t be seen from within. There was a simple pull handle and keyhole on the door, but no knob. I tugged lightly on the handle and the door opened easily—it hadn’t been locked.

I peeked through the crack. There still weren’t signs of anything living, and the air smelled clean. It seemed safe.

I stood up from my lowered stance and swung the door open. A muffled clattering sound startled me, and I quickly crouched back down. Nothing unusual happened after a few beats, so I relaxed and straightened back up, glancing around me.

The inside of the cabin looked like a ski lodge, except there was no second floor. Instead of a modern-style kitchen, there was a separate area with a dirt floor where a traditional Japanese charcoal stove stood, alongside a shelf for dishes and cutlery. There was a rope running through the kitchen, and beyond it was another door. Something on the other side of that threshold had probably created the sound I’d heard when I’d initially opened the door.

I closed the front door—there was another round of clacking—and slid the latch closed. The room was large; there was more than enough space for the sizable table and several chairs. In the rafters, I could see something that looked like wooden clappers. The sound earlier had been muffled, so these couldn’t have been the cause. Something else must’ve triggered it. My curiosity was piqued, but I let it go for now.

In the corner of the room, there stood three more doors. The first one led to a bathroom. I reasoned that, since I’d yet to come across anywhere to sleep, one of the remaining two doors must open to a bedroom. However, the next door I tried revealed a study with a large desk and bookshelves. The last doorway ended up leading to the bedroom. It was sparsely furnished with a wide bed, a nightstand, a desk, and a small stool, which reminded me of the cheap, bare-bones rooms that businessmen booked during work trips.

Now, onto the main attraction: the place where the magic—or smithing—happened. I was eager to see the equipment that had been prepared for me, but I also hoped it was practical. I wasn’t going to take on apprentices; it was just going to be me for the foreseeable future, so even if there were a fancy charcoal blast furnace for smelting, I wouldn’t be able to operate it alone.

With my heart pounding both in excitement and in worry, I crossed the kitchen and opened the last door.

Inside the room was everything you’d expect to be in a blacksmith’s toolkit. There was a hammer and anvil, a small hearth for a crucible, and even a bloomery on a bed of charcoal for ironworking. I was equipped to make both Western and Japanese weapons from iron—or steel—along with small items like arrowheads. Thanks to the data installed in my brain earlier, I now knew how to use all the equipment. That headache had been a worthy price to pay.

A counter stood in the middle of the workshop, beyond which was a small open space. The door on the far wall with an elaborate latch led back outside.

“I see. This space doubles as a storefront for customers,” I mused aloud.

The first set of rooms made up the living space, whereas this side of the cabin was pure business. If I’d forgotten to latch the front door to the living space before coming to the workshop, the clappers would alert me to any customer that tried to enter that way. The rope I saw earlier was also connected to the door in the workshop that led outside, so I would be alerted the other way around too. It was a simple but effective rig.

I took one last look around the workshop before returning to the living area. It didn’t feel like home per se, but I couldn’t return to my former world even if I wanted to. Besides, I didn’t have any relatives or a girlfriend. The only person who would’ve been troubled by my death was my manager at work. But even at the company, I was easily replaceable—a cog in the machine—so maybe it didn’t make a difference.

Either way, there was no turning back now.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. My stomach gurgled loudly, begging for food. I know that the body can’t lie, but couldn’t it have picked a better time? I sighed and went back into the kitchen to check on what food items had been stocked. If only there were microwaveable meals...but I wouldn’t count on it.

The pantry contained vegetables (mostly potatoes and the like) and smoked meat (pork, I thought), along with some legumes that looked like soybeans and lentils. A nearby jar was filled with cured meat, likely also pork.

I’ll try making a stew. I filled a small pitcher with water from the large water jar and poured it into the pot situated on the charcoal stove. I thought I’d have to manually build a fire with the charcoal and kindling, but I wanted to give magic a go.

According to the installed data, there weren’t any complex incantations for casting magic. Instead, I was meant to channel the motes of something or other—again, the data wasn’t big on specific details—that danced in the air around me.

As I concentrated, my fingertips grew hot. It worked like an adiabatic compression system, similar to the ones used in diesel engines; I acted as the piston that compressed the gas in the cylinder. The temperature rose and rose, and then, whoosh, the flames blazed up in front of me. The fire soon gave off a warm glow and flickered merrily.

“Wow, I really did it,” I said, touched by the proof of my accomplishment and the sensation of magic still burning on my fingertips. It was a completely novel experience for me, after all.

The Watchdog had said that I wouldn’t have much magical ability, but this was certainly plenty for everyday life. While the idea of starting a fire from raw materials was romantic, using magic had been much less effort than using flint or generating heat through friction. There was a limit to what I could do though—I couldn’t sustain the heat over long periods of time, so I could only ignite things that were easy to burn.

If lighting a fire was considered the bare minimum, maybe there was cold storage technology powered by cooling magic that existed in this world too. However, I hadn’t seen anything like a fridge in the cabin. The vegetables I’d found were either dried or freshly harvested, and the meat was smoked or cured. I could’ve been wrong; maybe cooling magic didn’t exist, or there was a possibility that those items were a luxury, so they wouldn’t be found out here in the middle of nowhere.

The water had come to a boil, so I added some diced cured pork, root vegetables, and soybeans. I kept the mixture on the heat while stirring it with a wooden ladle.

As the stew bubbled away, I returned to my thoughts. I could earn money through smithing, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to sell my products right away. And without an immediate source of income, I’d have to figure out a way to get more provisions before mine ran out. I needed water, ingredients, and seasonings, of which salt was particularly important since it could also be used as a preservative.

Before any of that though, I needed to find out more about my surroundings. I didn’t even know if I’d woken up in the morning or afternoon. There may have been geographical data that came with the installation process, but even if I had a map, I wouldn’t know where to start looking.

Where was this forest? How big was it, and what kind of place was it? Where was the nearest town? There were a whole slew of questions that needed answering if I was going to live here for several more decades.

I also wanted to know how frequently people passed through this forest—well, what I meant to say was, I wanted to know if this place was actually well-traveled.

The cabin was set up with the intention that customers would come here to shop. Of course, I had no idea when they would start coming, and it would look suspicious if I were to say that I’d been living alone in the forest this whole time. Especially if people passed frequently through these woods—how was I meant to explain the fact that this cabin had appeared out of the blue? I’d have to ask around if I ever made it into a town. My list of to-dos was growing long, though I suppose that was a natural consequence of moving to a new place.

The food finished cooking, and it smelled like stew at least. I took out a wooden bowl and spoon from the shelf and dished some out. I took a sip. It tasted exactly like what you’d expect a broth of cured pork, root vegetables, and soybeans to taste like—completely ordinary—but it wasn’t half bad. At any rate, my cooking was edible, so I could avoid a slow death by starvation. I had no problems with eating the same thing every day, at least for a while. Once I got sick of the taste, I’d figure something else out.

The sun was still high in the sky even after my meal. By my guess, it was no later than mid-afternoon, but it was hard to tell with all the trees surrounding the cabin. My body was also telling me that it wasn’t going to get dark anytime soon. Since I felt alert and energetic, I decided to go out and explore again.

I was wearing a shirt and pants made of hemp fabric and a leather vest, like the stereotypical garb of an RPG villager. Though I didn’t expect to run into anyone given how isolated this cabin was, if I did, I’d fit right in with these clothes. I carried a hunting knife with me that I’d found in the cabin and then set off, locking the door behind me.

I headed into the forest. Since there was plenty of sun and the trees were spaced out, it was still sunny underneath the canopy. “Even if it’s light out now, I should still make sure to head back early,” I said to myself as I carved an X into a nearby tree trunk to mark my path.

The first order of business was finding water. I thought I could search for two or three hours before getting tired, and if I hadn’t located any by then, I’d come back.

The cabin receded quickly behind me, but from the implanted data, I still had a sense of where it was, unlike when I first woke up and couldn’t navigate at all. It had taken some time for the downloaded info and experiences to sync up with my muscle memory.

I assumed that it was probably going to be the same with blacksmithing. I had no previous experience from my former life, so I had to rely solely on the data that came with the installation to this new life; that data had to be read in as I smithed. I knew that the discrepancy between the knowledge base and my physical memory would disappear over time. In any case, I wasn’t particularly worried.

As I walked, new bits of info about the flora and fauna and sense memory were gradually coming to me. Even so, I was still marking the tree trunks as I went, on the off chance that my new knowledge would desert me at an inopportune time, leaving me stranded in the forest. I was also pocketing herbs I came across that had medicinal effects, like fever reducers or antiseptics, since I hadn’t found any in the cabin. Judging from the abundance of useful herbs here, this world was looking like a pretty good place to live.

I’d been wandering for an hour or so when I finally found my precious water source. I heard the sound of running water and rushed toward it, emerging on the shores of a lake. Upstream, I could see the mouth of the river that fed into it. This lake was so wide that the opposite shore disappeared beyond the horizon.

Since I’d been collecting herbs along the way, it’d taken an hour to find this water source, but it was actually only fifteen minutes away from my cabin. This was the solution to my water problems. I might have to make multiple trips a day, but it would be perfect exercise after being cooped up in the workshop for hours. I would incorporate it into my routine starting tomorrow.

I peered at my reflection in the water. The ripples made it hard to tell, but my reflection looked thirty years old, as I had requested. I’d figured that twenty would’ve been unbelievably young to be an accomplished blacksmith, which was what I’d asked to be, and what the data and experiences that came with the install now pointed to. No one would’ve believed in the abilities of someone so young, especially considering that I was a stranger to the area.

My internal clock told me that there was still some time before sunset. I ambled along the shore, looking around at the forest and lake, and I made a couple of discoveries. First, there were shrubs growing fruits that looked like raspberries. In the boughs of the trees, there were apple look-alikes too. According to the data, they were both edible, so I picked one apple doppelganger from the tree. It certainly smelled like an apple.

I tentatively took a bite. “This is so sour!” I exclaimed.

Though it had a trace of apple flavor, it was extremely acidic. It wasn’t quite as sour as apple vinegar, but it was a no-go for anyone who disliked sour food. What a frightening fruit! The farmers in my previous world worked hard to grow sweet, juicy apples, and their efforts had really borne fruit, pun intended. In any case, I hadn’t brought anything to carry the fruits in, and I still had some food stockpiled. I’d come back another day to gather some.

I turned away to look toward the lake again. The flowing waters suggested that there may have been a mountain nearby; perhaps it was the source of the river and the place where the water drained from, but I couldn’t see anything from where I was standing. I spied some fish swimming in the crystal clear waters and vowed that next time, I’d come with a rod and bait to try to catch some. Hopefully, I’d have time once I started working as a blacksmith—I’d be spending most of the day in the workshop since smithing was going to be my livelihood. Well, I could always decide on fixed hours and then go fishing on my days off.

I was done being a workaholic. I wanted to live a slow, quiet life.

I puttered around for a while longer before my internal clock said it was getting late. It was time to go back...or so I’d decided when I suddenly saw movement in the grass. Looking closely, I saw a large animal around 150 centimeters long, almost the size of a human adult. I approached it cautiously.

It was hidden in the shadows, so I couldn’t see it clearly, but I noticed that it had triangular ears like a cat or a dog. However, its silhouette looked almost human. Its shoulders heaved up and down and I quickened my steps. It could definitely hear me approaching, but its breathing was ragged and it didn’t move a muscle aside from its shoulders.

Only when I came within touching distance did I realize what the animal was. Maybe it was rude to call it—her—an animal. She must’ve been one of the beastfolk. She had a tiger-like tail and ears along with striped fur on her hands and feet, but she looked human otherwise. Light leather armor protected her torso. She was carrying a bow slung over her shoulder and a quiver down by her waist, but maybe she’d not had a chance to use them during her last tussle.

Painful-looking wounds covered her body. She had collapsed facedown, but I could see that her armor was torn at the sides, and the exposed skin was bruised and bloody. While the wound wasn’t bleeding profusely, it was obviously severe. I didn’t need the data to tell me that much.

“I have to get her somewhere safe as soon as possible.”

I turned her over and lifted her up. Her armor wasn’t as secure as I’d thought because her surprisingly ample breasts spilled out over the top of the leather. I was shocked, but there was no time to stop and stare. I just filed the image away and hefted her body over my shoulder in a so-called fireman’s carry. She was lighter than she looked.

“It’d be more chivalrous to carry her like a princess, but this is faster,” I remarked. “It’ll have to do. Sorry.”

Carrying the half-tiger girl, I rushed back home. I’d walked a ways along the shore of the lake, so it took longer to get home than the fifteen minutes I’d initially estimated. She was fading fast, but her body still contained warmth. I clung to the hope that I’d make it back in time.

When we got to the cabin, I had to set her down so that I could unlock the door. The muffled clatter from the workshop side reached my ears. I hurried to the bedroom, and after scrounging around, I found some extra sheets in the cupboard. I grabbed two, returned to the living room, and put them on the table. Then I headed into the workshop, where I was able to find a needle, thread, and knife. The former two were for stitching together scabbards and the latter was merchandise, but this wasn’t the time to be picky.

I had everything I needed.

In the kitchen, I put the needle into a pot of water and lit the fire. While waiting, I spread one of the sheets over the table in the living room. The girl was still lying unconscious on her side where I left her. I carried her into the cabin and laid her down on the table, then latched the door so I wouldn’t be disturbed by any visitors, though it wasn’t likely anyway.

I removed her bow, quiver, and wrist guards—they looked like archer’s gloves—and set them aside. I also removed her armor...well, it was really just a breastplate. Her shirt was wet and sticky with blood, so I cut it down the middle and took it off.

First, I checked to make sure she had no serious wounds other than the one on her side. It was hard to tell if her hands and feet were injured because of the fur. Although, if I could’ve seen a wound even through the fur, then it would’ve been a serious gash. I took the lack of visible trauma as a good sign. She had cuts and scrapes all over her body, but only the oozing opening in her side needed immediate attention. Fresh blood welled up at the site of injury. She didn’t seem conscious, but her face had been screwed tight with pain this entire time.

The water had come to a boil. I cut out a piece of the extra sheet and placed it in the water to disinfect. After a while, I took it out and brought it to the table, along with the needle and thread.

“The data really comes in handy at times like this,” I said. So far, everything I’d done had been informed by some knowledge from my previous life, alongside the helpful data. However, for the next steps, I had no real-world experience—only the data could see me through.

I wiped down the wound with the disinfected sheet. The young woman grunted and her face tightened with pain, but she was still unconscious. Blood was welling up again, so I had to stitch the wound quickly. And since I didn’t have any anesthetic, this was going to hurt her. Every time the needle passed through her skin, her jaw clenched. My chest tightened with guilt, but I had to keep going for her sake.

At last, I was able to suture the wound closed. It was nowhere near as neat as a surgeon’s stitching, but since my installation had come with some basic survival skills, it had come out all right. The job may have been ugly, but at least it would prevent the gash from getting worse. If she complained about its appearance later, I’d take it in stride and apologize.

Again, I soaked the sheet I’d used to clean the wound and then used it to wipe down the rest of her body, double-checking for any serious injuries. It was awkward to say the least because she was completely naked. Fortunately, both my mind and body understood the severity of the situation, so I finished without embarrassing myself.

I extinguished the fire and filled a wooden bowl halfway with the hot water, then soaked some of the fever-relieving herbs I’d gathered earlier. After a while, the brew started to give off a crisp, minty scent. I fed the girl the medicine after making sure it was cool enough to drink. When I spooned the liquid into her mouth, she drank it down herself. It was lucky that she wasn’t completely unresponsive. The bowl was soon empty, and since the herb was a fever-reducer, I hoped that it would have some pain-relieving effects as well.

She didn’t miraculously recover, but after an hour her breathing evened out. I tried moving her because the table was no place for a patient. I carried her princess-style, this time into the bedroom, and laid her down on the bed. Of course, I made sure to cover her with a kakebuton (or a blanket, I should say, to match with this world’s Western-style culture). She was sleeping soundly. I hadn’t noticed before now, but on her head, a stylish green hair ornament glittered in the light.

I sighed deeply, feeling completely drained. The first aid itself had been exhausting, but more than that, maintaining that level of concentration had really done me in. Between scouting my surroundings earlier and rescuing the girl, it had been a long day. I decided that I should eat dinner, but I needed a break first, so I sat down on the stool by the nightstand.

“Tomorrow, I’ll go replenish my water supply and then try my hand at smithing. I’ll also need to check in on her once in a while,” I said.

Thinking had made me sleepy and sitting down had only made my tiredness more pronounced. My head drooped, and I jerked it back up. This was a familiar feeling from my old world—I was starting to nod off.

“No...I have to...make dinner...” I mumbled, but it was no use. I slipped off into the welcoming darkness.

I was stirred from sleep by a strange feeling around my neck. How long had I been unconscious? And how was the girl doing? I opened my eyes, still out of it, to the sight of her—she was hovering over me and gripping my throat with one hand.

“Well, I thought it might turn out this way,” I said as calmly as I could manage. Her grasp was light, but it didn’t escape me that she could’ve easily ended my second life while I’d been asleep and before I’d spent even a full day here.

“How are your injuries?” I asked.

She stared at me. Her eyes were a beautiful golden color, just like a tiger’s. At first, she looked confused by my question, but she soon schooled her features into impassivity. “They hurt,” she responded, “but they’re healing.”

“That’s good,” I said, smiling with genuine relief. My efforts to save her hadn’t been in vain.

“Right...” she said with trepidation. That was my chance to push her off and free myself, but I didn’t want to risk upsetting her. She quickly recovered from her lapse. “Did you look?” she said, anger coloring her voice. She tightened her hold.

“Only because I had to treat you, and I didn’t touch you except for when it was medically necessary. I promise,” I stated, making sure to keep my voice level.

“Are you telling the truth?”

“If I lied, you can wring my neck.”

She locked her gaze with mine. After a few seconds of intense eye contact, she sighed and released my neck. “I’ll believe you for now.”

“Thank you.”

“Humans give off a distinct scent when they lie,” she added. “You don’t smell that way.”

“You can tell if I’m lying just by how I smell?!”

“Yeah, but only when humans are rattled. Canine and lupine beastfolk, on the other hand, can smell lies any time.”

I nodded. If I had felt her up while treating her and lied about it, she would’ve seen through me and killed me on the spot. It was only my second day here and I was already on thin ice.

I got up and rummaged through my belongings, pulled out a change of clothing, and handed it to her. “Put these on for now,” I instructed.

“What about my clothes?” she asked.

“I had to cut them off to get to your wounds. Plus, they were soaked with blood. It’s probably best to throw them out.”

“Oh...I see.”

“I’m sorry if they were important to you.”

“No, not at all. Just scraps,” she said before starting to change.

She’d been naked up until now, but for what it was worth, I turned away to give her some privacy. For a space currently occupied by two people, it sure was quiet. The only sound was the rustle of the clothing.

“Do you own this cabin?”

“Yes,” I said, turning to face her again since she’d finished changing.

“What are you doing all the way out here?”

“I’m a blacksmith.”

“Blacksmith?” she asked.

“Well...I just moved in yesterday.” I’d waffled on how to explain my living situation, but ultimately, I decided to stick with the truth. There was a good chance that she knew this area, and I didn’t want to make her suspicious by saying anything careless.

“Was this cabin always here?”

Bingo! She knew where we were.

“It was here when I got here,” I replied. That was true, except for the part where it’d appeared out of thin air.

“I’m not in this part of the Black Forest often, so I probably just missed it before.”

The Black Forest. I had seen this name in the geography data that’d been installed in my mind. Though I was trying to keep a poker face, on the inside, I was jumping for joy; I didn’t want her super senses to detect anything. If I combined the data with what I’d seen while walking around yesterday, I could guess our location. Was it around...here?

“Right now, we’re in the eastern part of the forest,” I hazarded.

“Oh, I mostly roam and sleep in the north and west. I rarely come here.”

Phew. I didn’t know our exact coordinates, but at least I got the general area correct.

She continued her explanation. “As soon as I ventured this way, I ran into a black bear, and well...you can guess what happened. The only reason it didn’t kill me was because it sensed you approaching, I think.”

“I see.” Something vicious enough to take her down lived here? In this forest, she was likely considered a strong predator herself. Besides the fact that she was part tiger, she must’ve been strong since she wandered around the woods all by herself. However, she was injured right now.

I didn’t want to turn her out, so I said, “I have a proposal for you.”

“What?”

“Well, it’ll take time for your injuries to heal, right?”

“Yeah,” she replied. “Beastfolk are sturdier than humans, but a wound this large will take time to heal. I won’t be able to hunt or gather food for two weeks.”

“Why don’t you live here then?” I offered.

“Huh?”

“I don’t mean anything strange by it. It’s just mutually beneficial,” I reasoned. “I’m new to the area, and I’ll need some help with my smithing. You need to heal, and even after you’ve recovered, you’ll still need some time to adjust, right?

“True.”

“You’ll be more comfortable here. At least, you won’t have to worry about rain. I’ll bet it’s hard to hunt during a storm.”

“Makes sense,” she said and paused to think.

As she considered my offer, her softly pointed ears swiveled in different directions, and I was mesmerized. I could look at her tiger features all day. I didn’t say that to her though—I figured she’d be outraged.

“All right. I’ll stay here until my injuries are healed and I can move normally again. When that time comes, I’ll consider what I want to do long-term. How’s that?” she asked.

“Works for me,” I said.

“Cool. Let’s get along then!”

“Great!”

I’d said that I wanted to live with a cat, but never in my wildest dreams had I thought that this was how my wish would be interpreted. I supposed a tiger girl counted. Watchdog, was this your answer to my request? I asked her in my head, but there was no response. Not that I’d expected one.

“By the way, what’s your name?” I asked.

“Samya.”

So her name was Samya. “Nice name,” I said, but she didn’t respond. “What’s wrong?” I finally asked.

“It’s too cute. I’d rather be called something that sounds tough.”

“Umm...like González?”

“Pft—” The sound burst out of her. A second later, she was rolling on the bed, cracking up. “Ha ha ha ha! González! Your naming sense is horrible! Ha ha ha!!!”

“Stuff it. At least my parents gave me common sense,” I said, disheartened by her jeering. She was laughing so hard that she was crying.

In the four decades of my first life, my bad naming sense was the only weakness I hadn’t gotten a chance to rid myself of. I should’ve had the Watchdog fix it, but it was too late to be remembering that now.

“Even if you don’t like your name, your family gave it to you,” I said after Samya recovered from her fit of laughter. “Besides, I think it suits you.”

“Oh, um, thanks,” she replied. Back in Japan, there was a saying: “the crying crow is already laughing.” In this case though, “the laughing tiger is already bashful” would be more accurate. Basically, it meant that a person’s moods are quick to change.

“All right, I’m going to go refill our water supply. It’s a ways from the cabin. Will you be okay by yourself?” I asked.

“Before you go...” She trailed off.

“Hmm? What is it?”

“You haven’t told me your name yet.”

“Oh. Right. I’m Eizo Tanya.” Eizo was my given name, though in my old life I’d introduced myself the other way around.

“It sounds Nordic. You have a family name and everything.”

“If you say so.”

According to the geographic data, in this world, the region similar to Asia was in the north, not the east. The people who lived there were called the Nordic people.

“My bad, I didn’t mean to pry. Family names are rare here.”

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I suppose you’ve already guessed why I’m setting up my workshop in an isolated place like this.”

In this world, it was rare for a man with a family name—in other words, a man from an established family line—to move to another region of the world, and to work as a blacksmith in a remote forest no less. It was unthinkable for someone of such status to choose the life of a recluse for themselves. Samya had connected the dots and drawn her own conclusions about my background.

“Looks like you’ve got it rough too,” Samya said in camaraderie.

“I’m doing all right for myself.” For now, at least. “Can you help me out and only use my first name?”

“No problem, Eizo.”

“Thanks, Samya.”

I left Samya to rest in bed so I could go fetch water. It was a vital commodity since it was the foundation of all life. I planned to go back to the lake with two empty medium-sized water jugs I’d found in the cabin. They hung from both ends of a shoulder pole and had ropes threaded into their mouths for easy carry.

“They look pretty heavy,” I mumbled, but this was a necessary task to pave the way for a slow life. I could’ve gotten Samya to help me, but she’d be annoyed if she wasn’t able to lift them. So, I steeled myself and hefted the carrying pole onto my shoulders.

Contrary to my expectations, the jugs were light. Not light as a feather, per se, but about the same weight as a large plastic bucket from my old world. What kind of ceramic were these made of?

“Wait, that’s not it...”

The jugs weren’t light; I was just strong. Had the Watchdog judged this to be the minimum amount of strength I’d need to survive in this world, or maybe...? I left that question for another time. Right now, I had to retrieve water, so I headed out to the lake.

The trip took about thirty minutes from start to finish between travel time and filling the jugs. I’d be coming back every day from now on. The containers never became too heavy for me to carry, despite their volume. There was no doubt that I could lift more than before.

When I returned to the cabin, I ate a breakfast of tofu and cured meat soup with Samya. Afterward, I ushered her back to the bedroom for rest and recovery, before turning to the workshop.

There, I found the answer as to why I was now so strong.

I thought about what I should try to smith first and settled on a small knife. A larger project would’ve taken more time, and my muscle memory needed the opportunity to sync up with the installed blacksmithing data and experiences. I figured I should start with a series of small items.

“But before that, I need a bit of magic,” I said. I conjured fire to light the hearth, and the forge readily responded to the magic. The bed of charcoal started to smolder and a deep red light glowed from between pieces of coal. I knew that the forge would automatically circulate the flames I’d produced in order to maintain a stable temperature throughout the hearth, but I didn’t know exactly how it worked. As expected of a magical item, I suppose. Thank god I didn’t have to build the fire from scratch.

With the forge going, I directed my magic toward the bellows. I pictured myself pumping power through my body and summoned a wind that blew out of my palms. It was just a momentary breeze, nothing so powerful as to blow a person away. Like the forge, the bellows took up the thread of my magic and started to work—it used my wind as fuel without needing any more manual intervention from me.

I manipulated my magic and worked the forge and bellows to slowly raise the temperature of the fire hotter and hotter. I was planning to use the four-centimeters-wide by one-centimeter-thick iron bands from the raw material storage. I guessed they’d been provided as freebies. I picked one up with the tongs and thrust it into the firepot.

“I thought I was prepared, but it’s really sweltering in here,” I said to myself.

At 800°C, the iron began to change color. It needed to be even hotter before it became malleable though, so it was only natural that the air near the forge was scorching. I was dripping with sweat, so I removed my leather vest. However, I kept on the hemp shirt to protect myself from stray sparks.

Using the bellows, I stoked the fire to raise the temperature even higher, hot enough to heat the iron. When the metal had reached the perfect temperature, I took it out and began to strike it with the hammer. At that moment, I realized how much muscle you needed as a blacksmith.

“I get it now,” I said with a grin on my face. Sparks leaped into the air from the force of my strikes as I shaped the iron. It was exactly like how it was depicted in the videos I’d used to watch in my previous life. What a thrill to experience it for myself! I was aiming for the shape of a Japanese sword, but I wouldn’t try to make it quite as delicate. When the iron was roughly the correct shape, I left it to cool while I ate lunch.

As Samya and I ate, I asked her if there were any cities nearby. She told me there was one that was a quarter of a day’s journey away, though she rarely left the forest herself. A round trip was technically doable in one day but would be no walk in the park.

After lunch, I forced Samya back to bed for more rest and returned to work. By the time I got back, the fire had died down and cooled significantly. I fed it more charcoal to raise the temperature again, which was something I still had to do manually.

By now, I was at the tail end of the forging process. Japanese swordsmiths traditionally worked at night so they could pinpoint the exact temperature of the fire by its color. However, since my smithing skills were cheats, I could discern the temperature even when it was still bright outside. Once the blade had heated to the right temperature, I went to quench it in cold water to harden the metal. For my first time around, I wanted the edge and back of the blade to harden evenly, so I didn’t coat any parts of it with clay like I would’ve for selective quenching.

When I plunged the knife into the water, a loud hiss filled the room. It was similar to the sound produced by a hot skillet being submerged in water, but several times louder. I could feel the knife cooling in my hand, and after a while, I lifted it back out. A light vapor coiled around the metal. For the finishing touch, I sharpened the blade on a whetstone.

My workshop’s inaugural item was now complete. I hadn’t planned to use it for anything specific, so I hadn’t made a hilt with a guard and I’d left the grip untempered. I would have to wrap it with cord before using it, but the important thing was that I’d finished it.

Next, I wanted to test the sharpness of the blade. Even though I didn’t have a specific use for it, I still wanted to make sure that it cut through things—that was the whole point of a knife after all. I grabbed a log as a makeshift counter and set a bundle of straw on top of it.

I slashed the knife down toward it.

The straw bundle split apart...along with the log.

Huh?! What the hell just happened?

The knife I’d made as a test sliced all the way through a log?! That was a little...no, very hard to accept. It was my first knife! Sure, my skills came from a cheat, and admittedly, I’d put in extra effort for my first project, but even so, this outcome was hard to swallow. The knife seemed almost like a magical item. In fact, it was probably too sharp; it could really hurt someone.

What if it wasn’t my knife-making skills but my knife-wielding skills that were top-notch?

I had to experiment to find out.

I retrieved the knife I’d used to cut Samya’s clothing yesterday and tested it on the same straw-and-log setup. That blade made a clean cut through the straw, but the log was undamaged. My new body did seem to possess some degree of swordsmanship—or should I say knifesmanship?—but this was proof that the knife I’d crafted really was of a different caliber.

Back on Earth, we would call this situation “using a sledgehammer to crack a nut.” No one in their right mind was going to buy a knife that would slice through the cutting board along with their meat. However, the knife had potential as a weapon. Normal knives were only effective against an opponent without any armor—most couldn’t even cut through leather. My knife would have no problem against leather, though metal might be enough to stop it.

Anyway, I hadn’t been planning to sell this knife. It had turned out better than I’d anticipated, but I’d made it as a trial product and it was on the smaller side. I decided to keep it for self-defense.

I made a scabbard for the knife out of the log I’d accidentally split. I cut two planks from the log, which were about the thickness of the knife and slightly larger in shape. I carved out the centers, glued the two sides together, and fitted a leather piece over the mouth. It was a simple sheath, but now I could carry the knife around with me.

Onto the next experiment—my goal was to test and see if everything I made would be this high quality. Please let the answer be no.

I decided to make three knives slightly larger than the one I’d just finished, about the size of a survival knife. However, I would put in different amounts of effort. The first I’d make with the same effort as my other knife; on the second, I’d cut some corners; for the third, I’d slack off completely. I grabbed three sheets of metal, lit the furnace, and set to work.

The three knives took me the rest of the day to shape. I opted to finish and test them in the morning. It was now time to wake Samya up from her medically prescribed nap.

“Hey, it’s time for dinner,” I said. “Get up!”

She moaned and turned over in bed, rustling the sheets. Her voice sounded somewhat erotic.

“Sleep is important, but so is food! You won’t heal if you don’t eat. Come on, wake up.”

I tore the covers off her and was treated to the sight of a completely naked Samya. So she was the type to sleep without clothing... Whoops. I’d be more careful next time.

She sat up groggily. “When did it get so late? And why do I still feel so tired? I’ve literally been asleep all day.”

“That’s only natural after a serious injury. It’s your body’s survival mechanism to conserve energy and prevent excess movement while the body heals and replenishes the lost blood,” I responded.

“Whoa, you’re a walking encyclopedia.”

“Nothing like that.” It was just the combined knowledge I had from two separate worlds.

The room had grown dark, so I picked up a lantern. It was my first time using it because yesterday I’d fallen asleep too early to need it. Luckily, it was a magical item too, so I could light it with my bottom-of-the-barrel abilities—all I had to do was focus my energy. After a moment, the magic sparked out of me and into the lantern. Fire magic, along with wind magic, made up the extent of my primary magical abilities.

“You can do magic too?!” Samya exclaimed.

“Only simple things,” I said.

“The old families are something else...” she said with awe. Even having the bare minimum in magical ability was rare. I wasn’t sure how prolific magic was, but I knew that the large majority of people couldn’t use it.

We moved to the living room to eat dinner. I added some root vegetables to the leftover soup from breakfast and heated it up. Feeding an extra mouth cut into the food supply, but there was still quite a lot left. Of course, it wouldn’t last more than a month or two. I’d have to figure out how to make money before the food ran out, either by selling my wares in the nearest city or offering repair services. Though, I didn’t want to travel before Samya was healed. I wouldn’t be able to sleep if something happened to her while I was gone, especially since I’d already saved her life once.

We made small talk as we ate. Both of us instinctively avoided discussing our pasts. She told me about her day-to-day life, and I reminisced about the scenery back on Earth. I used to be so moved when I saw the towering mountains with their everlasting snowy peaks. That kind of info wasn’t going to give anything important away.

After dinner, we parted ways for bed. I ended up sleeping at the desk in the study, but I was used to that from my programming job anyway. Samya had insisted that she should be the one to sleep in the study, but I put my foot down. She was still healing. End of discussion.

She’d reluctantly retired to the bedroom, and thus my second day came to an end.

⌗⌗⌗

The next morning passed in much the same way. I woke up, made breakfast, and roused Samya to eat. I heated a batch of water for Samya to wipe herself down with, then I headed out to the lake for more.

When I got to the shore, I figured that I should take a dip. I jumped into the lake, water splashing up around me.

“Eyahhh!” I shouted in shock after resurfacing. The water was so much colder than I’d expected—it was practically freezing! But in a way, it was refreshing, especially after a whole day of sweating in the workshop. Once I felt sufficiently clean, I went back to the cabin with the filled water jugs.

The first order of business was to finish up my three-knife experiment. I continued where I’d left off and heated the knives to the right temperature. I quickly quenched them to set their shape, sharpened their edges minimally, and wrapped their handles with leather cord. I made sure to vary my effort for each knife, the same as when I’d shaped them the day before.

By the time I was finished, it was already noon. Perfect timing. I’d ask Samya to help me with the rest of the experiment over lunch.

“Samya, can you give me some help after we eat?” I asked.

“Sure,” she agreed easily, “but I don’t know anything about blacksmithing.”

“That’s fine. I just need another set of hands,” I said.

“All right. I spent the entire day in bed yesterday, so I’ve got plenty of energy.”

“I appreciate it.”

After we’d finished eating, we went into the workshop together, and I explained the setup. “I’ve prepared three knives. Can you cut these straw bundles with them, starting with the one on the right? I’m trying to test how sharp they are.”

I wanted to isolate the variables to the cutting ability of the knives, and I didn’t want any sword skills I’d been gifted with to interfere. If the blade I’d worked the hardest on sliced through the wood with Samya wielding it, then I could be sure that it was due to the quality of the knife.

“Okay. Easy,” she said.

Samya sat down on the work stool (read: tree stump) and placed the first straw bundle onto the log counter. She picked up the right-most knife—the one I’d put the least effort into—and swung it down with gusto. The bundle fell apart, accompanied by the soft crinkling sound of the straw falling down. However, that knife barely scratched the log and had only cut through the straw.

“Wow, amazing!” she exclaimed. “You’ve got skills, Eizo!”

“Thanks,” I replied. “Now try the middle one.”

“You got it,” she said, pumped up now. She selected the next knife, the so-so one, in high spirits. When she slashed through a new bundle, the straw fell apart again with a gentle rustle. This knife also bit deep into the log but didn’t split it all the way through.

“Hmmm, not bad,” I remarked.

“Not bad? What’re you talking about? It’s incredible!!!”

I was relieved by Samya’s enthusiasm. Judging by her reaction, I didn’t need to go all-out when smithing. A middling amount of effort was perfectly sufficient. I was also genuinely happy to hear her compliments, but I put on a poker face because I didn’t want to trigger her sharp senses.

“Try the last one,” I said.

“Oh, okay. Sure.” Her excitement faltered against my cool facade. She lifted the knife that I’d worked seriously on and sliced through the last straw bundle.

The knife had sunk halfway through the log, but this time, there was no rustle from the straw. It was completely silent.

“Huh?” Samya said, bewildered.

“Pull the knife out,” I instructed.

“R-Right.” When she raised the knife, the halves of the bundle and log slid apart slowly. It was like a scene straight out of a manga or anime. “Wh-What just happened?”

“Calm down,” I said. “It’s dangerous for you to panic right now.”

She broke out of her spell and looked over toward me. “Ah, r-right. Y-You’re right,” she stammered. “My bad...”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry I didn’t explain beforehand,” I replied. Of course, anyone would be shocked to see a knife cleave a log in two. I would’ve been stunned too, had I not suspected what would happen beforehand.

These results confirmed my hypothesis: the cheat had given me top-tier blacksmith skills and the ability to make first-class items.

“Well, I suppose I won’t be able to sell the third knife,” I said.

“What? Why?” Samya said, shocked.

“Maybe if it were to a swordsman, but otherwise, this knife is too dangerous to sell to a normal person,” I said. “Think about it—what if I sold it to a perfectly average family, and one day, the mom’s hand slips while she’s prepping dinner? She might lose a finger.”

People around here didn’t use cutting boards either. Instead, they sliced vegetables and meat held straight in their hands. Cutting boards were more common up north apparently.

“Oh, that’s true,” she said. She looked disappointed.

“But I guess it wouldn’t hurt to sell it to someone who knew their way around a sword,” I said.

“Why don’t you give it to me?”

“Really?” I asked. “You want it?”

“Y-Yeah. When I’m hunting, it would make skinning and cleaning animals a lot easier.”

“All right then. It’s yours.” I already had the first knife I’d made. Besides, it’d be a shame for this knife to go to waste, and I’d rather Samya have it than a stranger.

“Are you sure?!”

“Yeah, I don’t mind, but you’ll have to wait a bit,” I said. “I’ll make a scabbard for it when I have some time between making items to sell.”

“Awesome! I’m not complaining—I know a good deal when I see one!”

“Okay, I’ll have it back to you soon.”

“Woohoo!”

It was almost like trying to tame a wild animal with food. Not almost... She was already living here, so I was well into that process already.

In any case, after seeing the results of my experiment, I now knew what direction I should take my smithing in; rather than making anything extraordinary, I’d focus on creating everyday items. I could take my time, make things over two or three days, and accept repair work here and there as well. Quantity over quality. Of course, I wasn’t going to ignore quality completely. I wanted customers to come away satisfied, so I’d make sure all the blades and tools that I forged were sharper than average.

For the next four days, I churned out a series of knives and shortswords, along with hoes, sickles, and axes. I didn’t have to spend much time on them at all; speed might’ve been part of the cheat, or maybe it was a side effect of not having to put in much effort. I forged some high-caliber items for my own use, but for the most part, I was only aiming for above-average quality.

While I worked, Samya rested obediently. She avoided moving around too much, and even when she helped me with my sharpness experiments, she took it easy and didn’t use much power. Or had she gotten weak from the lack of exercise?

Out of curiosity, I asked her about it, and she replied, “The faster I get better, the faster I get to play around with your knives.”

I’d have to make something nice next time, so I wouldn’t let her down. Besides, I was a sucker for compliments, even roundabout ones.

The next morning, Samya and I were eating together as usual. Today, however, I had a big announcement to make.

“I’ve decided to take a break today!” I burst out.

“Uh, okay,” Samya said, turned off by my enthusiasm.

It was my first holiday here in this world! It hadn’t even been a full week, but the idea of a holiday itself was novel to me. I’d barely taken any time off in my previous job. Once, I’d even worked forty-five days straight with no weekends or vacations. A little while before I’d come to this world, my company had finally stopped making us do dangerous levels of overtime, but that hadn’t been out of concern for the well-being of the employees—it had simply been to avoid legal liabilities.

In this world, I was no longer beholden to a working schedule of five business days a week. I could take breaks whenever I wanted! As a bonus, I didn’t have to worry about using up my paid vacation days. So who cares if Samya thought I was weird? With these perks, I would’ve been crazy not to get excited.

I had a plan in mind for the day, but I didn’t want to push Samya too hard since she still had her stitches in. I asked for her opinion. “I wanted to do some exploring nearby. Do you feel up to it?”

“Sure, I think I can manage that, but...”

“But...? Is there something you’re worried about?” I asked.

“We’re still in its territory. My injuries are healing, but there’s always a chance we could get attacked again.” She spoke quieter than usual.

Was that bear still roaming around the area? That would be dangerous indeed.

“We’ll turn right around at the first sign of danger,” I promised. “I just want to get to know our surroundings better. I’m clueless as a baby right now.”

“All right,” she said. “I’m sold.”

“It’s settled then.”

“Roger that.”

After breakfast, I made sandwiches for us to bring along. I’d baked some flatbread before, using a simple dough mix of only flour, salt, and water. For the filling, I’d used smoked pork chops that I’d already stewed. That might sound fancy, but it was really just the leftover meat from the soup we’d eaten for breakfast. The pork was lightly flavored with the root vegetable broth it had been stewed in.

Like every other meat we’d had, it was primarily seasoned with salt. At this point, salt was becoming pretty unappetizing; I definitely wanted to buy other kinds of seasoning when I journeyed to the city. There was likely pepper at least. Since the Nordic region was similar to Asia, maybe I could even find miso, soy sauce, and fish sauce. Would these ingredients be available in markets down here? Well, I shouldn’t get my hopes up.

I placed the sandwiches into a knapsack, but I figured that if we came back early, we could always eat them here too.

Before leaving, we both strapped knives around our waists. I considered bringing a shortsword, but decided against it in the end—it didn’t seem like it’d be useful if we ran into the bear. Rather than standing my ground and drawing my sword against that beast, it would be better to run.

When we left, I closed and locked the door behind us. It was unlikely that a petty thief would be slinking around a random cabin in the middle of the forest, but it was better safe than sorry. I hadn’t left the house vacant since the first day, so I wanted to be careful.

We headed into the forest, in the opposite direction of where I’d first found Samya, moving through the dense and lush greenery. This forest was home to a variety of animals. Other than the squirrel-like animal I’d seen and the bear that’d attacked Samya, there were also deer, boar, and wolves. The deer were docile, but the other two we’d have to watch out for.

I warned Samya as well, but she only looked confused. Finally, she said, “Why would we have to worry about boar and wolves?”

“Um, why wouldn’t we?” I asked the obvious.

She still looked perplexed. “You’re strong, aren’t you, Eizo?”

“Strong enough to survive in this forest...I think,” I said. To be honest, I wasn’t exactly sure if I was a good fighter or not. The Watchdog would’ve made me strong enough that I wouldn’t be killed immediately, but past that, I had no idea.

“Since you decided to move here, you must be strong,” she declared. “The wolves around here are cutthroat and will strike at the first sign of fragility. The weak have been long eaten up.” She spoke nonchalantly as if we were discussing the weather.

So if I’d been weak, I would’ve been killed already when I’d been stumbling around the forest on the first day, or when I’d gone down to the lake for water.

Thank you, Watchdog, for making sure death by wolves wasn’t in my cards!

We continued chatting as we wandered deeper into the forest. Today was sunny, and the light filtering through the canopy of trees overhead spotlighted the mossy undergrowth. Occasionally, we’d hear rustling noises, but they’d stop soon after. According to Samya, they were the sounds of small animals scampering around us.

We wouldn’t run into any bigger animals unless we went searching for them ourselves. “Large animals are generally sharp and intelligent,” she’d said. Apparently, the proverb “big head, little wit” did not apply in this situation. She’d piqued my interest, so now I wanted to meet a wolf or something—but of course, I didn’t want to put us in danger. I hadn’t brought my sword and I wasn’t prepared for a fight, so I reined in my curiosity.

When I asked how she could tell that they were small animals, she said she could detect them by their scents. Her sense of smell from her tiger half was miles better than that of humans and other human-like races. She’d said previously that canine and lupine beastfolk had even better noses, but from my perspective, her nose was plenty powerful, given that she could identify mood swings just by a person’s aroma.

After roaming around for a while, my stomach started grumbling about how desperately empty it was. Gotta love that internal clock.

“Do you want to eat?” I asked.

“Sure,” Samya said.

She quickly found a small glade for us. It was about the size of two picnic blankets, nowhere near as large as the clearing where the cabin was located. We sat down on the ground, and I took the sandwiches out of the sack. I passed one over to Samya and then started eating. It didn’t taste quite like I’d imagined, but it was delicious.

“Pretty tasty,” Samya said.

“It’s probably just because we haven’t eaten since morning.” Hunger is the best seasoning after all, or so the saying goes. Then, I took the chance to ask Samya something that had been on my mind for a while now. “What did you eat when you were on your own?”

“Mostly jerky,” she said.

“Ah, that makes sense.” Jerky was no-fuss and a good source of sodium. It was also easy to eat on the go while hunting. “You’re not used to cooked meals then?”

“I’m not used to them, no, but this kind of food is nice too.”

“Good.” I’d been worried that the food I’d made wasn’t to her tastes, or perhaps that the change in cuisine would be hard on her digestion. Her answer took a load off my mind. In fact, I realized that I should’ve asked her earlier.

After wandering around some more, we concluded that the area surrounding the cabin was safe, almost unusually so. Samya said she hadn’t spotted any footprints or other evidence that wild beasts were about. She was a natural-born hunter, so I trusted her instincts. I assumed that the Watchdog must’ve provided a secure home for me—it would’ve been a waste of time and effort to reincarnate me, only for me to die immediately.

Since Samya was still healing, we didn’t try to hunt any of the critters roaming around in the forest. Instead, we gathered some fever-reducing and antiseptic herbs and then headed home for the day.

⌗⌗⌗

On the sixth day, a little short of a full week since I’d arrived, I decided that it was time to remove the stitches from Samya’s side.

“I’m starting. It’ll hurt,” I warned her.

“Okay, got it,” she said. As I removed the thread, her expression grew pained, but she bore it in silence.

“Aaand we’re done.”

“Ouuuch,” she said. “But thanks.”

I wrapped the wound in fresh bandages, and Samya stroked it lightly, feeling the marks the sutures had left.

“One more thing, Samya,” I said.

“What’s up?”

“Are beastfolk welcome in cities?”

“Yeah? I rarely have business there so I don’t go very often, but it’s not a crime. Soldiers don’t come stomping out to capture me, and shopkeepers don’t mark up the prices just because I’m part tiger, you know.”

“That’s good.”

“Why?”

“I was thinking of checking out the city tomorrow,” I explained. “I don’t know the way, so I could use an escort. I thought it’d be a good chance for you to move around some more as well. Two birds, one stone, and all that. It’d be a big help if you were to go with me.”

“Sure, why not?” she agreed.

“That was easy.”

“You’ve been taking care of me all this time, so it’s my turn to repay the favor.”

“Thank you.”

“No worries,” she said. “I’ll stop by my last den today and grab my stuff.”

Could I take that to mean that she planned to stay at the cabin from now on? She’d probably object if I were to ask directly.

“All right. Be careful.” I responded as calmly as I could; I didn’t want her to sniff out my emotions.

Samya returned around dusk with a handful of belongings.

“Is that all you have?” I asked.

“Yeah. I move around a ton, so I pack light.”

“Ohhh, okay.”

Her habits were similar to those of migratory hunting and gathering tribes. Come to think of it, when we’d been swapping stories about our lives earlier, a lot of hers were hunting-related. Still, the fact that she’d agreed to live here (I think) meant that she wasn’t opposed to settling in one place. I decided to ask her about it should she tell me she’s moving in for good.

The next day, I refilled our water supply, and then we prepared to depart. It would only be a day trip, so we didn’t need much. Samya had the knife I’d made for her strapped to her hip and she wore her own clothing. As my guard, she wouldn’t be carrying any of the goods.

My attire was the same as usual—I looked like a villager. I brought along the farming tools and the knives I’d made, hoping to be able to sell them in town. Since the axes and hoes were bulky and unwieldy, I only took one of each, but I carried several sickles with me. The tools were strapped to me and they stuck out of my silhouette in every which way. Did I look suspicious? Sure, but people would assume that I was a merchant...I hoped. Right before we left, I went into the bedroom and stole some silver coins from the stash in the nightstand. Well, it was probably my money anyway.

“Are you ready?” I asked Samya.

“Mmhmm,” she replied.

So we set off!

It was my first outing in this world, and I was filled with both excitement and anxiety. This part of the forest was dense with trees, so the early morning sun barely filtered through the foliage. As we moved deeper into the forest, the atmosphere grew darker and darker. Good thing it wasn’t raining, or else it would’ve been impossible to navigate through this place.

According to the installed data, our trek through the heart of the forest would take two hours, and then we’d walk another hour on the road before reaching our destination. The round trip would take six hours in total.

This route wasn’t exactly what you’d call safe, and we were carrying valuable goods. Given those conditions, there was no such thing as being too careful. Luckily, with Samya as company, I wouldn’t be traveling alone. From our conversations while eating together, I’d gathered that beastfolk were stronger than the average human. The combined presence of Samya and I should deter any crooks or scoundrels—it was unlikely that anyone would try to mess with us. However, as Samya had said before, it would take her about one more week to heal completely. In the meantime, it would be better if she could avoid strenuous activity, while gradually building her strength back up.

Samya suddenly skidded to a stop, interrupting my thoughts.

“Did you see something?” I asked.

“I can sense a large presence, but I don’t think it’s the black bear. There’s a faint scent in the air too.” She tiptoed ahead. True to her tiger side, her footsteps were silent as she made her way through the teeming undergrowth. She stopped behind a tree and peeked around it.

“Aaah, it’s just a tree deer. They don’t have much of a scent,” Samya said. “Let’s go around it. They’re fierce when agitated. Since we’re not hunting today, it’s not worth the bother.”

There weren’t any deer-like animals around the cabin, but since we were now farther out, it was only natural that we’d come across some different creatures.

“Agreed,” I said. “Our goal is the city anyway.”

We skirted around the area. As we walked away, I turned around for a peek at the creature and saw an enormous deer calmly grazing in the grass. It was immediately obvious where the name “tree deer” had come from—its antlers looked exactly like the branches growing all around us.

“How do they prevent their antlers from getting stuck in the trees when they’re so tall?”

“The largest antlers do get caught and snap off occasionally,” Samya answered.

“Oh, is that how it works?” I guess tree deer were clumsier than they looked.

“When I start hunting again, I’ll catch one and show you,” she said. “The biggest horns will have marks from where they’ve already broken off once or twice. Unlike the horned deer, the tree deer’s antlers are just for camouflage, so it doesn’t matter if they break off or not.”

“Nature is amazing,” I said, awed.

I knew very little about biology in my old world, and my installation for this new world hadn’t included any scientific knowledge. It had already been fascinating to see the tree deer with my own eyes, and Samya’s narration had made it even better. I felt like I was watching a nature documentary.

“Tree deer usually attack by kicking at or head-butting their enemies. It’s a fierce opponent in close quarters,” she cautioned.

“Eh, I’ll worry about that when I get close to one.” I gave an exaggerated shrug.

She glanced over at me with a wry smile.

Samya and I made good progress after our encounter with the tree deer. After a while, we decided to take a quick lunch break. As we chatted, we each confirmed that we could still navigate back to the cabin in case of an emergency, even though it was now far behind us. In Samya’s case, beastfolk were able to identify their location using subtle markers in their surroundings, such as different scents. They were forest dwellers after all.

On the other hand, I relied on the knowledge and muscle memory that’d come with the installation package. Of course, I wouldn’t be telling Samya or anyone else that little secret. I was a guest in this world, after all. The Watchdog had said that my presence wouldn’t affect anything, but I didn’t want to take any chances by leaking unnecessary information.

We continued onward. The plan was to press forward to the road without rest. As we hiked, we encountered several other animals, but they were all harmless. We didn’t stumble across any carnivores. Samya explained that they were staying away because they could tell I was strong, but my theory was that it had to do with Samya and her scent. Of course, I wasn’t such an ignoramus that I would turn to a woman and say, “Your smell is keeping the beasts away.” If I wanted to live to see retirement, I’d keep my mouth shut.

The trees started to grow sparse, and before long, we came to the main road. We’d be in the city in no time.

Even though this was a major thoroughfare, I still didn’t see any people or even crop fields around us. I asked Samya about it, and she said, “The forest is a vast, unknown, and dangerous territory for the average person.”

“Are there any bandits around?” I asked.

“Not many. Soldiers patrol this road, since it leads into the city.”

“How do you know?”

“Hey, I have the right to go buy things in town too!” she snapped.

“Of course, of course.” I backpedaled quickly.

Samya had said that she rarely left the forest, and I’d mistook “rarely” for “never.” Come to think of it, even beastfolk who lived primarily within the woods would still need various things like salt, as well as fabric, needles, and the like to make the clothes they wore. According to Samya, beastfolk traded the animals they hunted for supplies.

“It’s a risky gamble for bandits to attack anyone on this road,” Samya continued, returning to our previous conversation. “The soldiers aren’t idiots. They patrol the area randomly rather than on a fixed schedule.”

These soldiers seemed passionate about their duties. I respected that.

“On top of that,” she went on to say, “there’re beasts and forest creatures to worry about, at least if you’re a normal human.” If a bandit troop were looting a caravan and a wolf came charging out of the forest, the tide would turn in a heartbeat. The bandits would quickly transform from hunters into prey. Wild animal attacks were rare, but the odds were still high enough to dissuade any gamblers.

As we talked, the remaining distance disappeared beneath our feet. Before I knew it, I could see the city’s outer walls in the distance. Both Samya and I felt reinvigorated by the sight and continued forward with fresh energy. There wasn’t much distance left to cover—just one last push.

Actually, the walls were only called “outer” for historical reasons. When the city had first been built, the walls had made up the border and the defenses for the settlement, but over time, another fence had been built around everything. Our target, the city’s Open Market, was just beyond that fence.

The market wasn’t anything fancy. It had been started by a bunch of traveling merchants who’d decided to settle and make their living in the city—they all used to travel regularly to peddle their wares, but some decided to stay in town and open shops along the road, thus giving birth to a new market district. This district wasn’t officially acknowledged by the city since the merchants had moved there of their own accord, but the shopkeepers still paid taxes since they were living and doing business on the land.

In our case, as long as we came as travelers and we didn’t go past the actual city walls, we’d be able to keep the cost of our visit low and avoid paying any tolls.

One downside to not paying taxes was that we were technically outside the protection of the city lord. Citizens suffered the most from unsafe neighborhoods, and people who felt unsafe and dissatisfied with the government tended to pay fewer taxes. Because of this, the city guards were vigilant about cracking down on all crimes they saw. It was, of course, in the best interest of the lord to maintain law and order, regardless of whether the unfortunate victim of a crook was a taxpayer or not. That said, if we had a dispute with a townsman, undoubtedly, the soldiers would dispose of us first.

As we approached the fence, I saw that several guards were standing at attention along the road. They were only there to stop troublemakers, so as long as travelers came with good intentions, the city would welcome them with open arms.

We were just about to enter the market district when a young soldier called out to us. “Do you have a minute?”

He was wearing steel armor, but the metal had dulled and was full of dents and scratches accumulated from years of long use. Despite his age and frumpy appearance, he did seem capable. The way he carried his spear suggested that he would skewer me without mercy if I tried to jump him.

I put on a cheerful face and brightly responded, “Of course! What can I do for you?” In my periphery, I could see Samya choking back laughter. I’ll get her back for that later.

“I haven’t seen you two around before,” he said. “What’s the purpose of your visit?”

“To sell my goods at the Open Market,” I explained. “I’ve got a few sickles and knives with me, as well as an ax and a hoe.”

“Is that all?”

“All for today. Do you need to check?”

“Yeah, thanks,” he said. “You catch on fast.”

Back on Earth, I’d gotten stopped by security more than once or twice because of my looks alone. And in my experience, it was in my best interest to cooperate with the authorities.

After all, I didn’t want to risk being suspected of carrying illegal goods.

“All right. You’re good to go,” the guard said after rooting through our bags.

He seemed satisfied, though he’d been thrown off momentarily when he’d found Samya’s knife. He let that go without mentioning it, so he probably thought it was just the same as the knives I’d brought to sell. He also hadn’t said anything about Samya herself, so apparently it was true that beastfolk and humans were treated the same in the city. I’d assumed that discrimination would be prevalent in a feudal world like this one...but you know what they say about assumptions.

“Make sure you don’t cause any trouble,” said the guard before he let us go.

“We won’t.”

Finally, we stepped onto the sunlit streets of the city, and I was excited all over again.

I was hoping to set up shop in an area called the Open Market. As its name implied, it was open to all vendors for a small fee and was the only place that people like me could do business. I’d made sure that I knew all the rules here. In order to live a slow life, it would be vital for me to sell in this market.

The Open Market was close to the entrance. When we arrived, we paid the fee, and in exchange, received a wooden tag that signified permission to sell. We also got a table to use as a countertop so we could display our wares.

Next, we had to find somewhere to set up shop. The merchants who’d arrived early, or who already had workshops in the city, had already sniped the best places, so we settled for second-best. We set up the table and arranged the knives and sickles on the surface. I placed the hoe and ax upright on the ground and leaned them against the side of the counter.

Now, our preparations were complete.

I turned to Samya, who was filling the essential role of my bodyguard. “Thanks for coming and helping out today.”

“No problem,” she said, shrugging. “I’m just standing around.” I knew though, anything could happen.

Two hours passed—there were no issues, but no moments of triumph either.

I had yet to sell a single thing. I’d tried calling out to passersby, but no one had been interested. To showcase the sharpness of my knives, I’d even borrowed a couple of straw bundles from nearby vendors; straw was usually used to cushion goods, but I’d sliced through it with my knives instead. My demonstration, however, had been to no avail. The number of customers stayed at zero.

My current theory was that knives usually lasted a long time, so there weren’t many people that needed to buy a replacement. Folks that needed new knives also wouldn’t go out of their way to buy from somewhere they were unfamiliar with, even if the quality was better. What else could I make though? I had no choice but to persevere. Someone would buy my knives eventually, but in the meantime, the money I had on hand would slowly dwindle.

I stood back from the foot traffic, waiting for a customer to come, but I was getting impatient. I could tell that my grim expression was unnerving Samya too. But then, a familiar face appeared in front of us—it was the guard that had searched us at the entrance.

“Hey,” he said in greeting. “Sell anything yet?”

“No, not a single thing,” I admitted.

He looked surprised. “What? Really?”

“Yes. I’m doing so poorly that I don’t know whether to cry or laugh.”

“All the better for me,” he said. “Can I get one of those knives?”

“H-Huh?”

“You see, when I inspected your wares earlier, I thought to myself, those are some fine knives! I can’t get my current knife to keep its edge no matter how much I sharpen it, so it’s time for a change,” he explained. “I was positive that you’d be sold out by now! I’d even prepared myself for disappointment.”

“Well, thank you for your kind words,” I said, handing him one of the knives. “Go ahead. Try it out if you wish.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He drew the knife from its sheath eagerly. “As I thought, it’s well made. How much?”

I gave him the price I’d decided on beforehand with Samya. “Five silver coins.” It was around the amount that people here were willing to pay for a knife from an unknown blacksmith...aka, me.

“It’s that cheap?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” I confirmed. I’d hardly spent any effort on these knives, unlike the ones Samya and I were carrying.

“I’ll buy it then.” He counted out the money and handed it to me.

Taking his coins, I said, “Thank you for your patronage!”

I was flushed with pride. This was the first time I’d earned any money selling something that I had made with my own two hands.

“I’ll recommend you to the other guards if the blade cuts well.”

“Are you serious?” I said, breaking into a wide grin at his generous offer. “I would really appreciate that! I can vouch for the sharpness of these knives!”

He waved goodbye as he walked away, and as I watched him leave, I made sure that I wouldn’t forget what he looked like. He was my precious first customer!

In the end, the profit from selling that knife made up the entirety of my proceeds for the day. Though, if the guard truly followed through on his offer, I might be able to sell a few more next time. As we headed home, Samya and I idly chatted about the future.

⌗⌗⌗

The next day, first thing in the morning, I started making more knives. I wasn’t putting any effort into them at all, only mass-producing them at speed. As I moved on autopilot, I analyzed the events from yesterday.

For starters, there had been no demand for farming tools at the Open Market. In retrospect, it should’ve been obvious: the majority of shoppers in the new market district were townsmen, merchants, and shop clerks—people who had no use for hoes or sickles. There were farms outside the city, but the farmers were tenants more often than not. This meant that the small plots of land they cultivated and the tools they used were rented from the city lord, and the tools were manufactured and repaired by city blacksmiths who were loyal to the lord.

There were a small number of independent farmers within the city’s walls, but they shopped in the old markets and bought tools from the same smiths that made the tenant farmers’ tools. In conclusion, the number of farmers who would make the trip to the Open Market to buy my tools was zero.

Come to think of it, while there had been other shops that sold self-defense knives, shortswords, and even quarterstaffs, none besides mine had sold farming equipment. My biggest takeaway from yesterday was that I shouldn’t have displayed those items with the rest of the goods.

What was I supposed to do with the sickles and hoe then? I guess I could use them myself, to cut the grass around the cabin and to plow a vegetable plot. The Watchdog did say that I’d have some production-related abilities, so surely I’d be able to make it work. The axes, however, were a different story. They could double as weapons, so someone might still buy them. Or, of course, I could use them myself. There was no shortage of trees to cut around here.

The cabin was reasonably close to the city. According to the installed data, the bulk of the forest was in the opposite direction.

Knives were the clear choice as my flagship product. I could make other weapons for the guards too, but the ones working in the city were part of the lord’s retinue; because of this, there was a low chance that they’d buy longswords and spears from me since the lord provided any weapons they used on the job.

The guard from yesterday had likely bought the knife for personal use, not to use as a weapon. However, merchants and their private guards would also buy weapons. There was money to be made if I caught them at the right time, so I decided to smith a few swords and spears in between knives.

But for today, I’d focus on the knives. They had been the most in-demand product in the booths around me yesterday. If I wanted to live a slow life, I first had to secure a stable income.

Over dinner, Samya asked, “Eizo, you’re not gonna make any arrowheads?”

“Ah, no, I wasn’t planning to. Why?”

“I’ll be able to hunt again soon, and I want to equip myself with arrows...hopefully, tipped with the arrowheads you make.”

“Well if that’s the case, how could I refuse?” I said.

“Sweet! I’m counting on you!” she replied enthusiastically. Seeing her so happy was a reward in and of itself and made the work worth doing.

“Sure. By the way, I was thinking of going to the city again tomorrow. Can you come guard me again?”

“Of course, leave it to me!”

⌗⌗⌗

We took the same path back to town the following day and arrived without any problems. The route was safer than I’d originally anticipated, but it was still annoying that the trip took up an entire day. I thought that I should get myself a horse or something similar to cut down on travel time.

There was a popular video game franchise back on Earth where the player could ride a giant bird. If an animal like that existed here, then I would love to see it with my own eyes...and if I could buy it for myself, even better. I wasn’t in my previous world anymore, so I figured that I should seize any unique opportunities that came my way!

We entered the Open Market through the same gate as we’d taken two days before. Today, a different guard inspected our goods.

I’d brought only knives with me, and since I had less inventory to display, I also set up some straw bundles that I’d already sliced through as proof of the knives’ sharpness. I hadn’t even broken a sweat (figuratively) making the knives, but they were still higher quality than the ones being sold in the other booths. I also prepared some straw so that any prospective buyers could try the knives for themselves. I was determined to turn a profit today.

By early afternoon, I’d sold two knives to a man who looked like a peddler. The pre-cut bundles were a good idea—I had already surpassed my sales from the first day. In my mind, I was striking a victory pose.

“Eizo, you’re practically glowing,” Samya pointed out with a smirk. I was basically over the moon with joy, so I didn’t mind a little taunting.

“Of course I am!” I exclaimed. “This is double what I sold last time, and I might be able to sell a few more before the end of the day.”

She looked taken aback by my honesty but quickly recovered. “Yup, I hope so,” she said with a genuine smile.

But that wasn’t meant to be. No more customers came.

While I manned the counter, I had Samya run out and buy cured meat, wheat, and beans with the earnings from the day. By the time she came back, I was bored out of my mind.

“Today’s going to end without any more sales,” I grumbled to Samya when she returned.

“You sold more than two days ago,” she pointed out. “Isn’t that a win?”

“I guess you can call it that.” My mouth twisted in dissatisfaction and I was unable to accept reality. Samya only rolled her eyes at me, shaking her head.

A short time passed. I had just decided to close up shop early when the situation was turned on its head. A group of five men appeared in the market, dressed in full armor, which clanked as they walked. They weren’t carrying any weapons, but each wore a surcoat emblazoned with the city’s coat of arms, which identified them as guards. I couldn’t remember doing anything to attract the guards’ attention, but there was no mistake—they were heading straight for us.

Samya was standing directly behind me, but I knew that she’d drawn her knife. If I was threatened, she’d be ready to fight, regardless of her injuries. I only hoped we could leave this confrontation without anyone getting hurt.

The squad arrived at our counter, and the leader said, “Is it here? Are you the one who sold Marius the knife?”

That name wasn’t familiar, but I thought I knew the person in question. “Are you talking about the young guard? I don’t know his name, but he was good-natured and friendly.”

“Yes! That’s him!” he said. “I knew this was the place. Do you have any knives left in stock?”

“Yes, I do. I made more just yesterday, but I haven’t sold too many today.” It was depressing but true. Samya might’ve felt the same because I heard her sigh behind me.

“Great! We’ll take them all,” said the guard leader in a booming voice. He was grinning from ear to ear.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Excuse me? All of them?”

“Yes, every last one,” he said, still smiling. “Marius has been flaunting his new knife for the past two days, and he wasn’t exaggerating about its sharpness. We all wanted one for ourselves, so here we are.”

“Well, they are for sale of course...” I said hesitantly.

“Is there a problem?”

“No, no, not exactly.” Even if the knives were for personal use, I was worried about encroaching on the territory of the city blacksmiths that the lord employed. In the end though, I decided to sell at least what I had with me. There were nearly ten blacksmiths who’d set up shop in the market today, so surely I wouldn’t upset anyone by selling a few knives to the guards.

“Let’s see. I have eight left today, so in total, that’ll be forty silver coins,” I said.

“Here you go, all forty. Check for yourself.”

“Okay. One, two, three...thirty-nine, forty. Thank you, and here are the knives.”

“Can we try them out?” the guard asked.

“Please do.”

He unsheathed the knife with a grace that outclassed Marius’s. This man must’ve been high-ranking.

“Everyone, go ahead,” I said to the other guards in the squad.

They each grabbed a knife and started examining them. It was only then that I realized how suspicious it looked for such a large group of soldiers to all be waving knives around.

After a while, the leader spoke again. “These are top-notch.”

“I appreciate it,” I said politely, accepting the compliment.

The guards left with satisfied smiles on their faces.

When they were gone, I turned to my neighbors, who’d been observing the hubbub impassively. “I’m really sorry about the commotion,” I said. A drove of armor-clad soldiers swanning in was distracting enough, but they’d also tested the knives en masse.

“It’s no big deal. I was a bit startled, but a sale is always a cause for celebration,” said the shopkeeper next to me, a man with a solid build who sold textiles.

I was relieved to hear his kind words. Finally, I could close up shop for the day.

⌗⌗⌗

I’d sold all ten knives!

More specifically, I’d sold them even though they were low-quality relative to what I could make when I really tried. In the eyes of the customers—weapons professionals no less—the knives had still been considered high quality. I knew that my talents were cheats and not innate, but I’d been pleased that my work had been well-received.

My prospects as a blacksmith were looking up. If today hadn’t panned out, I would’ve been seriously on edge about my new life here. I’d already considered joining Samya in the forest and living off the food we hunted. That would be one type of slow life, but it wasn’t the one I’d imagined for myself.

In any case, I couldn’t get complacent, no matter how thrilled I was at the outcome of today. I wouldn’t have any more inventory to sell unless I made them myself, so trips to the city would have to be put on hold for a while. I’d need to replenish my stock, but I also had several other to-dos on my mind.

First, I wanted to add a few new products to my repertoire. Nothing fancy, but longswords would come in handy for merchants and the mercenaries they hired as escorts. Longswords would also turn a higher profit. I couldn’t forget the arrowheads either, or else Samya would have my head.

The cabin itself also needed some work. I could arrange to meet normal customers for an exchange of goods, but what if I wanted to host friends or important trade partners? We were fairly close to the edge of the Black Forest, but it was still a considerable distance from the city. Besides that, the cabin had only been built for one and contained no guest quarters, so visitors would have nowhere to stay. In the event that time got away from us while we were chatting, I could hardly turn my guests out into the forest in the dark. Samya and I were a two-person household, so we’d need at least two more rooms for the time being.

To build the rooms, I’d need lumber. There were plenty of trees to cut down, but the wood planks would need to be dried before they could be used. The drying process alone would take around two weeks, so the whole project would take quite a while to complete. If the city were closer, I could buy dried lumber there and carry it back. But as it was, I had no choice but to do it myself. I’d also need at least an ax and a large saw to cut trees into planks. The axes I’d made before were mass-produced goods and not intended as personal use equipment, so I decided to custom-make these tools.

The list of things I needed to create had grown longer and longer. Oh well, I enjoyed smithing anyway.

I started with the ax and saw. For the ax, instead of starting from scratch, I modified one of the previous ones I’d made. I reheated the head in the forge, hammered it into the right shape, and quenched it. Since I was going to use it to cut trees, I didn’t sharpen the blade at the end.

The saw I made from a sheet of metal hammered thin. I used a chisel to cut out the teeth, refined the edge with a file, and voila! The process seemed simple on paper, but it took me the entire day since I’d never made one before.

In my spare time, I forged the arrowheads I’d promised Samya. She’d helped me so much, so this was the least I could do.

First, I chiseled a model of the arrowhead from a wooden block and covered it with clay to make the mold. I then buried the base of the mold in sand with the opening facing up, and poured in the molten iron I’d heated in the forge. After the metal hardened, I popped the arrowhead from the mold. I reheated the extra iron that’d solidified in the mouth of the mold, and used a punch to carve a hole where the shaft of an arrow could be slotted in.

Finally, I sharpened and polished the arrowhead. All I had left to do was attach one of the shafts that Samya had brought with her, but that could wait until the day before she actually wanted to go hunting.

I’d been busy making the tools, so I’d had Samya refill our water supply (but only half a jug) for the last couple of days. She also helped out with chores other than cooking. It was good for her to get some exercise. I’d been on meal duty the entire time because according to Samya, “Your cooking is miles better than anything I can make, Eizo!” After hearing that compliment, how could I possibly refuse to cook?

In any case, now it was time to chop some wood! I’d asked Samya to help out with the sawing. The cabin was in the middle of a clearing, but the surrounding woods were dense. Surely, no one would mind if I made our yard just a smiiidge bigger...

I hefted the ax over my shoulder and walked over to the first tree. I got into position, looking as if I were up to bat, and swung for the fences.

Thwunk! The loud, satisfying sound rattled the sky and reverberated around us, but the tree wasn’t damaged at all...or so I thought. In the next second, the tree slid right off of the stump and crashed down to the other side. The ground quaked from the impact.

The cross section of the trunk looked as if it had been perfectly cut with a sawmill from my old world. I was proud that I had made such a fine ax; it was truly a force to be reckoned with. Although, I needed to be careful that I didn’t accidentally cut at the wrong angle. If a tree fell on my head, that’d be the end of my second life. I chopped one more tree after double- and triple-checking that I’d gotten the right angle. It went down with no threats to my life and collapsed away from me with a thud that shook my whole body.

I cut the branches from both trees with the ax. Normally, a billhook would’ve been better suited for cleaning up the smaller branches, but such was the prowess of my ax that it took care of everything with ease. Next, I cut the trunk into usable lengths. The pleasing thwack of the ax rang out in the air. This trunk still looked intact after my swing, but I knew I’d cut it properly. When I pushed on the wood, the piece rolled away from the rest of the trunk, exactly the length I wanted it to be. I then cut up the rest into similar logs.

Now, the pieces were ready to be cut into planks.

“Samya!” I called toward the cabin. Before long, she came out carrying the saw, just like I’d asked her to beforehand.

“Finally! My time to shine,” she said.

“Don’t overdo it, all right? It shouldn’t take too much strength anyway.”

“I know. You put all your effort into this saw, right Eizo?”

“Of course. It’s for me to keep.”

“Then there’s no need to worry,” she assured me. “We’ll have the planks cut in no time.”

“Okay.”

We positioned ourselves, saw held between us, on opposite sides of one log. We then cut out the planks by sawing back and forth in rhythm. This process would have usually been both exhausting and long, but with the saw I’d made, it was like we were cutting tofu.

“Ha ha ha, amazing!” Samya said. “What a bizarre feeling.” The wood felt like velvet beneath the saw.

“Hey, the saw’s wobbling. Stop laughing so hard!”

“I know! I’m trying to be careful!”

All in all, it took only ten minutes from the first slice of the saw before we had our initial pile of planks. It was almost scary how fast we worked, despite the fact that we didn’t have a sawmill.

“At this rate, we’ll be able to cut up the rest of the trunk before the day’s over,” I said.

“Yeah. It would normally take so much longer. Eizo, your tools are really top-tier,” Samya replied.

We ate lunch and took a few breaks here and there. It took almost the entire day, but we finished cutting the planks and piled them up to dry. All in a good day’s work.

⌗⌗⌗

“I got my hands on the fabled longsword!”

“I must have it, even if I have to kill you for it.”

“F-Fiend! Wh-What are you doing?!”

I played out some iconic scenes from my childhood while forging the longsword. Once, Samya caught me in the middle of my reenactment.

“Eizo, what in the world are you doing?” she asked in exasperation. I wasn’t going to tell her that I was role-playing snippets from Romancing SaGa, that was for sure.

Other than Samya judging me for my hobbies, the smithing proceeded without a hitch. The process for making a sword was much the same as the one for making arrowheads: I carved a wooden model of the sword and covered it with clay. Once the clay dried around the model, I broke it in half and removed the wood, leaving a cavity in the shape of the sword. Now I had the two sides of my mold. The wooden model could be reused, at least until it started to lose its shape, after which I’d have to make a new one.

I buried the base of the mold in sand with the opening facing up. Next, I heated iron in the forge and poured the molten metal into the mold. Once it was cool, I used the hammer to smooth out any variations in the blade’s surface. Finally, I quenched the sword and sharpened the blade. Now the sword body was complete. I’d only have to wrap the hilt with leather and make a sheath.

I made several of these entry-level swords, but I also created one elite model. I carved the figure of a sitting cat into the pommel of the elite longsword. I based the insignia on a picture of a cute and chubby cat that I’d seen back on Earth. The decoration and sheath would normally be done by a specialist, but my cheat abilities allowed me to do everything myself. Of course, knowing and doing were two different things. There were minor flaws in the sword since it was my first one and my muscle memory hadn’t completely synced up with the data. Either way, I was still pleased with the outcome.

I’d also replenished my stock of knives, and I squeezed in some arrowheads during my free time. All in all, the swords and knives took me five days to manufacture. That was the limit of how fast I could work by myself.

Around the time I finished the longsword, Samya approached me for a conversation. There was something important we still had yet to chat about, and I thought it was about time.

“Eizo,” Samya began.

“What is it?”

“I’m mostly healed, so it’s about time I go back to hunting.”

“Oh yes. I’ll finish up the arrows then. Can you go get your shafts?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

I headed to the workshop first and readied the arrowheads and hammer. Samya arrived with several thin wooden dowels. If I mounted the head crooked, the arrow wouldn’t fly the way it was intended, so I concentrated and put my all into it.

To haft the arrow, I inserted a dowel into the socket of an arrowhead and fixed it into place. I used a metal pin because she was going to use it for hunting. However, I’d heard that arrows used in battle were fixed with wax, so the shaft could be easily detached from the head. When an enemy tried to remove an arrow from their body, the shaft would pop out of the socket and leave the arrowhead still embedded in their flesh. The tactics that people came up with when it came to war were truly frightening.

I finished and inspected my work. As expected of a cheat ability, the arrow was almost perfect. It may have been off by a degree or two, but this was definitely better than the work of most smiths. Well, perhaps “definitely” was too strong a word.

When I’d finished hafting ten arrows, Samya called out to me again. “Hey, Eizo.”

“Hmm?” I responded while continuing my work.

“Do you remember saying that I could live here if I wanted?” she asked.

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Is that offer still on the table?”

“Of course. I never revoked it as far as I can recall.”

“I’m really happy that you saved me and brought me here,” she said. “Even though I’ve mostly spent my time resting, it’s been fun to help out around the house. I enjoy taking walks with you and eating with you and hearing all of your interesting stories. And above all of that, I like watching you work the most, so...”

Samya paused. I was sure that it took a lot of courage for her to ask me to live here. I didn’t know how old she was since beastfolk and humans aged differently. Judging from her voice and behavior, she must’ve been considerably younger than me. Even if she was one hundred percent sure that I had no ulterior motives, she was still a young girl asking to live with a geezer like me. I worked on the arrows and waited patiently for her to gather her fortitude.

“So...” she finally said, “can I stay with you?”

“I’ve already said you could, so of course; you’re welcome here for as long as you like.” I’d been nonchalant, but needless to say, it was a big deal.

“Sweet! Thanks, Eizo!” Samya said, slapping me on the back.

“Hey! That hurts, you know.”

“I can’t help it. I’m happy!” She gave the brightest smile I’d ever seen on her face.

“By the way, Samya.”

“What’s up?”

“How old are you?”

“Let’s see...oh I get it,” she said. “It’s hard for you to tell as a human, right?”

“I know that you’re young, but that’s about the extent of it.”

“I’m five.”

“What did you say?! Five? Five?!” I said, raising my voice in disbelief. I never would’ve guessed since she was so put-together. Were all beastfolk this mature as children? When I was five, I was a brat...

“You’re overreacting. Beastfolk age differently from humans. That’s all.”

I supposed it was like how cats and dogs back on Earth aged much faster than people did.

“What about in human years then?”

“Hmm, around twenty-five? My appearance won’t change much from here on out. I’ve been told I’ll live to be about fifty. Humans live to around eighty, right?”

“Yeah.” Our life expectancies were similar. She would live at least twice as long as any cat or dog.

“What about you, Eizo?”

“What?”

“How old are you?”

“Me? I’m thirty.” On the inside, I was forty, but because I’d seen my reflection in the lake, I knew that I appeared properly thirty.

“Only thirty huh?”

“Yes, what of it?”

“No, I just...well, I haven’t met many people in my five years, but based on the ones I have met, I thought you were much older.”

She was sharp. Was that a beastfolk trait too?

“Thirty is plenty old, even for a human. I already have one foot in the land of geezerhood,” I said to appease her suspicions. She didn’t ask any further questions, so I supposed it worked.

“Look, I finished just as we were talking.”

“Wha—! Oh my god! Look at these beauties!” she exclaimed over the completed arrows. “You’re the best, Eizo!” It was strange to see a young girl get so excited over arrows, but her praise filled me with joy.

“Thanks,” I said simply, and left it at that.

Slowly but surely, my new normal was taking shape. I didn’t know how it’d evolve from now on, but the events from today were surely going to be a part of it.

“My Lady Samya, can I ask you something?” I said to her the next day.

“Gross, why’d you call me that? I’m getting goosebumps.” She wasn’t holding anything back.

“You’re so mean!” I responded. “But anyway, I finished the knives and the new longswords, so I wanted to go into town again. It’s been a week. Any longer and the people we met are going to forget about us.”

“Makes sense to me. All right, I’ll go with you.”

“Sorry to push back your hunting plans.”

“No problem. There’s no rush.”

And so, we agreed to prepare for another trip into the city. Samya brought her knife and bow, along with the arrows I’d made. A long-range weapon would be useful in an emergency, and I knew that my arrows would pierce right through any half-assed armor.

As for me, I packed all the knives for sale into a knapsack and slung another bag around my waist with food for the road. The longswords were trickier, but I ended up tying all but one to the top of the knapsack. I strapped the last one to the other side of my waist. My self-defense knife went into my breast pocket. I looked exactly like a merchant from the fantasy art I used to see back in my previous world! Though I tried to contain my excitement, Samya saw through me.

“What’re you so happy about?” she asked.

“Nothing. Just thinking that I hope the longswords sell.”

“Uhuuuh,” she said, clearly suspicious, but she didn’t pursue it any further. She was either already used to me getting excited over random things, or she thought all merchants were eccentric. Maybe both.

We headed into the forest. The longsword was heavier than my usual baggage, but I was able to keep pace thanks to my improved physique. I could handle today’s inventory by myself, but hypothetically, if I wanted to bring twenty longswords and twenty short spears, it’d be physically impossible to carry it all. I’d have to get a cart someday; that would be better than trying to lug everything myself and having to take frequent breaks to rest. I might have to cut down some more trees for cart materials.

We made fast progress toward the city with only a short break in the middle. When we were still in the forest, about thirty minutes away from the road, Samya suddenly halted.

Something was up.

“Why did you stop?” I asked.

“It smells like blood,” she explained in a whisper. “I think there’s a carnivore out there. It might be a forest wolf, but it’s hard to tell because the blood is overpowering the predator’s scent. It’s already noticed us.”

“What do we do?” Unconsciously, I hefted the longsword so that I was ready to attack at any moment.

“Let’s wait and see,” she proposed. “The blood means it’s already caught something to feast on. It may be satisfied with that and leave.”

“All right.”

“If it comes for us...”

“If it comes for us?”

“...That longsword you’ve readied will get to see some action.”

Samya had lived in this forest longer than me, so I was going to follow her lead.

After a short while, she whispered, “It’s gone.”

“Good,” I said in relief. I clapped one hand to my chest. The longsword would’ve worked in a pinch, but it was intended for sale after all. I’d wanted to avoid using or damaging it, so I was glad that the wolf had left without engaging.

We continued walking toward the road. “What do forest wolves hunt?” I asked Samya.

“A bit of everything,” she replied. “Mostly tree deer, but they’ll also hunt grass-blade rabbits and earth mice. The other beastfolk and I also hunt tree deer, but other than the heart, we leave the internal organs behind. We don’t bury the offal, so sometimes wolves eat our leftovers too.”

She explained what the other animals were when I asked. Grass-blade rabbits were named after their slender, green ears, while earth mice were brown and lived in holes that they dug in the ground. Many animals in the Black Forest survived using camouflage; it was a necessary trait to have in order to survive here, even though it was difficult for flying predators to see through the canopy. The prey animals avoided becoming food by hiding in plain sight. Because of this, the apex predators needed to have excellent vision.

Hmm. A predator with sharp eyes. Kind of like...a dragon? Did magical beasts exist in this world?

“Samya, are there any dragons here?”

“I’ve never seen one myself, but I’ve heard about them before.”

So they did exist. I wanted to see one for myself, but I wasn’t sure that I would live to tell the tale. That would be a treat I’d save for the end of my second life.

Thanks to the hard work the soldiers were putting in behind the scenes, we reached the city safely without anything unusual or exciting happening. Marius was one of the guards on duty at the entrance.

“We meet again!” I called out to him in greeting.

“Oh hey! You’re back. I hadn’t seen you around in a while, so I was getting worried, y’know.”

“I ran out of inventory, so it took some time to make more,” I explained. “I owe all my business to you, Marius.”

“Don’t mention it. Honestly, even I was a little shocked. Sorry if the other guards caused any problems for you,” he said.

“Not even a shadow of one.”

“Okay, good. Are those what you’re selling today?”

“Yes. I’ll start offering longswords from today onward. Along with the usual knives, of course.”

“I may swing by for a visit then.”

“Please do.”

After parting from Marius, Samya and I headed into the Open Market. We paid the entrance fee, prepared the counter, and put the goods out for display. The textile merchant from last time had also set up nearby, so I waved hello.

With that, I was once again open for business.

Since it was quiet at the beginning, I sent Samya away to buy food for us with some of the earnings from our last sale. Our supply had dwindled a fair amount in the past week. While she was gone, I sold four knives. They had apparently gained a reputation amongst the guards, and I spotted a good number of soldiers carrying them around.

I also sold two longswords. The buyer was a traveling merchant, and he bought one for personal use alongside one to resell somewhere far away. He’d told me with a chuckle that even if he couldn’t sell the sword, he wouldn’t mind keeping both blades. Even so, I thought he was probably confident he could sell it since he probably wouldn’t want to travel with it otherwise.

Travel, huh? What a beautiful word. I’m not sure when, but someday, I’d treat myself and Samya to a company retreat if we had free time.

When I was about to close the shop, Marius dropped by, dragging a fellow guard with him. They each bought a longsword.

“I’d be happy to sell them to you, but will you get into any trouble with the city lord?” I asked. “Doesn’t he loan you all your weapons?”

“Only the ones we use on the job, but there’s no hard and fast rule for the blades we use for personal training. And if we accidentally bring our training weapons into work, well, it happens, right?” Marius gave an exaggerated wink. In my eyes, he seemed twice as cool as he usually was.

By the end of the day, we had sold most of the knives and all the longswords except for one elite model. We’d had time to buy food as well. All in all, the day was a smashing success. Our slow life was on track for at least another week.

When we returned home, I took some of the wheat Samya had bought and ground it into flour. I then kneaded a portion of the flour with water and salt in a wooden bowl. While the dough rested, I put away the other food. Once it had rested enough, I divided the dough into pieces and rolled out each portion. I finished cooking them off on the pan. The result was a stack of wheat flatbread, or “roti” as they were called in my previous world. For dinner, I paired the roti with a soup of dried meat and root vegetables.

While I’d been cooking, Samya had taken the bow out for a test run to prepare for her hunt tomorrow. She came back in time for us to eat together.

“How did the bow feel?” I asked Samya over dinner.

“Oh, um, pretty good. I used two of the arrows you made, and they were absolutely perfect.”

“Good, good, just what I like to hear. What are you going to hunt tomorrow?”

“Some tree deer or boar maybe,” she said. “If there’s time, I want to take down a bird or two.”

“That’d be a good addition to our menu.”

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it!” she exclaimed, visibly excited at the prospect. After all, as one of the tiger beastfolk, she had the blood of a predator flowing through her veins.

We were both worn out from our trip into town. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day, so we called it a night and headed to bed early.

⌗⌗⌗

Samya prepared to go out and hunt the next morning. She put on her leather armor and slung her bow over her shoulder while I packed her a lunch of roti and dried meat. I would’ve used stewed meat, but she’d requested food that she could eat on the go.

“See you later,” I said, walking her out. “If you run into anything dangerous, turn around right away!”

“I got it, I got it. See ya,” she said, before heading out at a brisk pace.

It was time for me to get to work too. My work, of course, was forging items to refill my inventory. I decided to make four more knives today and save the longswords for tomorrow. Since I was only making entry-level model knives, I forged on autopilot.

Even if I didn’t try very hard, my knives were of higher quality than anything the other smiths could make. My skills were cheats after all. It bothered me on principle, but I had to face reality—as an artisan, the reviews of customers could make or break my business. Therefore, I could only be grateful for the skills I’d been given to support my second life.

While my body played out the steps of the forging process, I tuned my mind to other problems. I still had some raw iron left, but sooner or later, I was going to run out. I’d need to secure a supplier, preferably one that I could partner with long-term. At the pace I was making new items, I’d need to restock my raw materials frequently.

That train of thought led me to another issue: I couldn’t have the supplier visit me here at the cabin, could I?

I could live in this forest with no fear, largely thanks to Samya and her instinct for danger. She was also the reason why the trips to and from the city had gone so smoothly. What would I have done yesterday if I’d been alone, and I’d inadvertently stumbled into the wolf’s feeding ground? Even if I’d been able to fight it off, I could’ve been injured in the middle of battle. Fighting would’ve eaten up time as well, and in the worst-case scenario, I could’ve been stuck in the forest at night. Would I have really been safe while wounded in the pitch-black forest?

I needed to get myself a cart. It would be helpful both for fetching raw materials and for hauling my own stock. So far, I had been able to carry all the items by myself, but I’d reach my limits sooner or later. I should find myself a cart before then.

Should I buy one or make it myself? If I were to make one, I’d need to cut down more trees for wooden planks. It would take two weeks for the wood to dry. In that time, I’d only need to make two, maybe three trips into town, and I could manage by myself in the meantime. So why not? I’d make one. If it turned out horribly, I could always buy one later.

I churned out knives while drifting in my thoughts. By the time I finished, it was already dusk, and Samya had returned from her hunt.

“I’m back!” she called.

“Welcome home,” I said, but Samya only looked away, squirming. “Huh? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing... I-I was just a little happy. Y’know, because...” She trailed off.

The realization struck me. “Ohhh, I get it. It’s nice having someone to come home to, right?”

“Y-Yeah.”

I had never been able to acquire that particular type of happiness for myself, at least, up until now. Had it been the same for Samya? But what if she’d never been attacked by that bear? She was happy I’d rescued her, or so she’d said... But what if I’d just stopped her from living out a normal, happy life? She could’ve lived on in the forest, eating the animals she hunted, maybe meeting other beastfolk and starting a family.

Although come to think of it, the Watchdog had said that I wouldn’t be able to affect this world in any major way, so the event of Samya’s attack and rescue would’ve still occurred. To put it another way, as long as Samya didn’t die in that moment, then it didn’t matter who saved her, as far as the world’s equilibrium was concerned. Her rescuer hadn’t needed to be me... So the question remained: Was Samya happy to have been saved? Or, more specifically, to have been saved by me?

I wanted it to be the latter. One day, if she came to know the whole story, I hoped she would say to me, “Eizo, I’m glad it was you.”

Breaking free of my thoughts, I asked Samya, “What did you end up hunting?”

“A tree deer. I cleaned out the guts and left it to soak in the lake. I’m gonna bring it back first thing in the morning.”

“I’ll go with you to help,” I offered. “Come and eat after you wash your hands.”

“Mmkay.”

We ate together at the dining table as usual. Over dinner, I asked, “How were the arrows and knife?”

“Absolutely killer! The arrows pierced deep into the deer’s body, and the knife made dressing it a breeze!”

“Great. I’m glad they were useful.”

She told me all about her hunt, gesturing wildly for emphasis. I watched her animated retelling with a smile on my face.

⌗⌗⌗

We went to the lake early the next morning, bringing along an ax and a rope from my workshop.

“Hmmm, where’d I leave it?” Samya muttered as she tried to find the carcass. “Ah! Over there! You see where that arrow’s sticking out?”

“I see it.”

“It’s just a little farther in from that marker,” she said, pointing.

“All right. Let’s go and see.”

When we approached the area she’d shown me, I saw the deer’s body submerged in the water.

“First, we gotta get it to shore,” she said. “Eizo, gimme a hand.”

“Okay.”

We pulled it out by its legs. Since it was buoyed slightly by the water, it was easier to move than I’d expected. After we dragged it onto the shore, I chopped down two smaller trees and cut each into several pieces. I lashed them all together with the rope to form a carrying rack, then I attached more rope to one end of the rack so we could pull the carcass along. Finally, I loaded the deer onto the rack.

With the two of us moving it together, we made good time. Maybe we were strong, or the deer was just light. We arrived home after forty minutes.

Now, on to the butchering. We brought the deer to a tree that stood close to the cabin and hung it upside down on one of the branches.

First, we skinned it. Samya was obviously a practiced hand, as she finished the work in the blink of an eye. She had used my knife, and I liked to think that it made a difference as well.

Before cutting off its head, she pointed at the horns. “See these marks? It’s from when this horn broke off.”

“You’re right. I see it!” I looked closer and saw the same kind of marks scattered up and down the antlers.

“A deer this size would definitely snag its horns when trying to flee from a predator like a forest wolf.”

“Now that I’m seeing it with my own eyes, I understand what you were trying to say.”

“Was I right or was I right?” she said with well-deserved pride. The depths of her knowledge never failed to astound me.

“You said you removed its innards last night. What did you do with them?” I asked.

I hadn’t seen anything when we’d pulled the deer out of the lake. Had she done something to protect them against parasites? I’m sure those existed in this world as well.

“I left the offal in the spot where I killed the deer. Either the wolves will eat them or they’ll decay and be recycled back into the ecosystem.”

“Oh okay, I get it.”

She’d left them to the whims of nature, so to speak. Had this been my old world, her actions would’ve caused a host of problems. However, it didn’t seem like that was the case in this world; the people here either didn’t know or didn’t care about parasites. I doubted that there was a food safety administration overseeing hygiene.

The butchered hunks of tree deer looked like the meat I was used to seeing in my last world. I knew, of course, that venison was deer, but I’d never felt it so acutely as now after I’d just watched the butchering happen in real-time.

“What do we do with the bones?” I asked.

“I’ll throw them away farther out from the cabin. The wolves will eat those too,” she explained.

“If we make a habit of this, won’t a wolf stalk us back here?”

“Well, it happens once in a while.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah. Even if they follow us, they’re less likely to attack anything that seems strong and gives off the scent of beastfolk or humans,” she said, continuing her explanation. “They know that they’ll get food from us even if they don’t hunt for themselves.”

“Smart.”

“They have to be, otherwise they wouldn’t survive in this forest.”

“True.”

Most wild animals knew that if they attacked a hunter recklessly, they might end up as prey themselves. Sure, there may have been a few dim-witted beasts who would try to attack, but not many.

We ate tree deer meat for both lunch and dinner. I hung the rest in the workshop so it could dry into jerky. This room was a hot and arid environment since I had the fire going almost every day. The meat drying process wasn’t particularly interesting. I decided that one of these days, I’d like a room for smoking meat or even a full-blown smokehouse. Meat prepared that way would expand our palettes considerably. Delectable cuisine was also an important part of living a slow life!

⌗⌗⌗

Samya didn’t go hunting the next day. It seemed customary for beastfolk to take breaks between hunts so that they didn’t kill more than they could consume and deplete natural resources unnecessarily. I had her help me with my work instead.

I was back to making longswords.

The first task I assigned to her was covering the wooden model I’d made last time with clay to make the mold.

“This is awesome,” she said.

“Isn’t it?” The sculpting felt more like play than work.

Once it was dry, I handled splitting the mold in half and burying it in sand. The sword shape had been cleanly imprinted in the mold. Samya was excited all over again when she saw the results of her handiwork.

Next, I demonstrated the hammering technique for flattening and evening out the blade. I had her give it a try.

“Whoa, cool!” she exclaimed.

“Right?” I said. “Okay then, I’ll leave the rest to you.”

“Sure!”

In the meantime, I finished up the blade. Before the day was done, we’d made two swords. We worked together the day after that too, so in total, we had restocked four longswords.

⌗⌗⌗

“I’m off to hunt today,” Samya told me the next morning.

“All right, be careful,” I cautioned. “Take it easy! We’re going back to the city tomorrow.”

“Got it. See you later,” she said, waving goodbye as she turned away. She danced through all the undergrowth and disappeared into the depths of the forest.

Let’s see. What should I make next?

I wanted to create something different; it was important to expand my breadth of goods. I already had knives and longswords, so what about a spear?

I still had some of the bigger branches reserved from when I’d chopped down the trees. I chose a branch 140 centimeters long—about shoulder height—and shaved it into a cylinder for the staff. Next, I had to make the spearhead and a cap for the butt end.

The spearhead I shaped from a piece of iron. To start, I hammered it into a rectangular block. I elongated the bottom and shaped it into a cylinder, making sure to include a space for the staff to slot into. I hammered the tip into a cylinder as well, but with a pyramid at the business end.

Some spears had blades or spikes protruding off of them, but I wanted to design this one primarily as a thrusting weapon. For the cap, I used a piece of iron that weighed the same as the head and shaped it into a cylinder. One end I hollowed out for the staff, and I made the other end slightly pointed. To put it all together, I quenched the spear tip and slotted the staff into place.

As it was my first ever spear, it was neither entry-level nor elite. I considered it to be a custom model. I wouldn’t put it up for sale, but if I ever hired another guard, I could potentially give it to them.

I assumed a basic stance and tested it out. It wasn’t as long as the pikes that armies carried into battle, and wouldn’t be very useful in a phalanx formation (to use an example from my previous life). However, it would work just fine for the city guards. In fact, as I whirled the spear around, I felt like a guard myself and got a bit excited. However, if I wanted to sell it to the guards, I’d have to make it look more official. Right now, it had more of the rough-and-tumble feel, like a weapon a vigilante troop might use.

It only took a day to produce the spear. Had it not been for the magical tools and my cheat abilities, it would’ve taken longer. I mused over this while banking the fire in the workshop. Before I headed back to the living area, I checked how the meat was drying.

And with that, today’s work was officially over.

I was thinking about what to do for dinner when Samya came back to the cabin.

“Welcome back,” I said.

“I-I’m...home,” Samya said shyly.

Please get used to it soon. If you react like that every time, it’s embarrassing for me too!

“What did you catch today?” I asked.

She held up two birds and said, “Foliage birds.”

They were each about the size of a crow back in Japan. Their wings looked like the leaves of the trees around the cabin, so camouflage was obviously their primary defense mechanism, like many of the other animals in the forest. I hadn’t seen them around when I’d been out by myself—it could be that they blended perfectly into their surroundings, or maybe I’d simply overlooked them. Foliage birds must’ve been hard to find and shoot down if even a skilled archer like Samya could only catch two in a day.

“I’ll cook these up for dinner then,” I said.

“Can’t wait!”

To prep the birds, I first had to pluck out their feathers. The flight feathers on their wings and tail were a beautiful jade green, so I set some aside for later to use as decoration. I thought that the feathers on their bodies could be used to stuff duvets or pillows, but when I asked Samya about my idea, she said, “People don’t usually use foliage birds for that kind of thing,” so I gave up on it. The birds didn’t have many feathers anyway. I’d heard previously that the best birds to use as stuffing for bedding had an abundance of small feathers. The foliage birds didn’t fall into that category.

Once I’d defeathered them completely, I singed the remaining hair from their bodies over the magical stove. Then, I cut open their stomachs and removed the organs. The gizzards and livers were edible, but I threw them away this time since Samya said, “We don’t eat them here.” Finally, I cut off the breast meat, along with the wings and thighs at the joints, seasoned them with salt, and grilled them.

Tonight’s dinner was a lavish feast of tree deer soup, grilled foliage bird, and flatbread. I’d only seasoned the foliage bird with salt, but the flavor wasn’t bad all in all. As a matter of fact, since the flavor of the meat itself was light and delicate, the simple seasoning suited the bird more than a rich sauce would have.

“We’re heading into town tomorrow,” I said. “And we won’t have to buy more cured meat this time thanks to your efforts.”

“’Kay. I’ll catch more for us next time too!”

“Yes, please,” I said, smiling. Samya nodded and grinned back.