Chapter 1: Let Me Treat You to Some Meat

This is a northern mountain forest—oak, locust, birch, and larch trees interlock, covering the hills, lush and verdant, stretching as far as the eye can see.

In the dense woods, the sound of rustling footsteps rings out. Parting the branches, a figure stumbles through. He heads straight for a mountain hollow, where the sound of running water can be heard. Sure enough, there is a clear pool.

Scooping up the cool water, he carefully washes himself, not missing a single spot. After a moment, the pool reflects a young face—tender and fresh, at most thirteen or fourteen years old, skin flawless, plump with collagen that seems ready to overflow.

His eyes are bright and clear, nose straight, lips rosy, teeth neat and white—a truly handsome young lad!

But this young lad has no hair; his head is smooth as a peeled egg. Not only hair, but even his eyebrows and eyelashes are pitifully sparse. Yet, even so, the boy grins, showing a satisfied smile.

"To escape from a forest fire—never mind turning into a little monk, even if I became a little nun, I’d have to accept it!" the boy muttered to himself... His name is Brian Clark, a university student majoring in agriculture.

Compared to his classmates, Brian Clark has an extraordinary love for the land, one that comes from his very bones... For generations, his family has been farmers. Scraping a living from the soil, relying on the land to eat—that’s the greatest truth in the world!

Brian Clark firmly believes this, even after enduring countless hardships to become the only university student in his village and landing a stable job in the provincial capital.

Still, after saving up some money, he returned home, leased some land, and started a farm!

Everything was going smoothly, but who could have guessed that a mountain fire would shatter Brian Clark's dream of prosperity.

When he woke up again, he found himself in a pitch-black pile of charcoal. Using all his strength, he crawled out, leaving a small human-shaped imprint on the ground.

At that moment, Brian Clark noticed something strange—his hands and feet had become much smaller... Could it be a rebirth from the flames, a phoenix’s nirvana? Brian Clark had no time to think; his stomach cramped with hunger, making even tree bark look appetizing!

Brian Clark was lucky. After only a few steps, he kicked something round. Picking it up, he found it was a charred rabbit. Clearly, the poor rabbit didn’t have the protagonist’s halo and could only become the protagonist’s meal!

Peeling off the burnt fur, the meat inside was still fairly tender.

A hundred paces away, there was even a hunter’s hut, empty and deserted. Brian Clark naturally took it over. Inside, he found a discarded piece of tattered burlap, so rotten it was falling apart. Brian Clark carefully wrapped it around his waist—after all, even if no one was watching, he couldn’t go around naked!

With “clothing” settled, next came “food”... After a full hour, the first wisp of blue smoke rose, and Brian Clark was almost moved to tears.

He made fire by drilling wood!

He did it!

Quickly, he roasted the half-cooked rabbit meat, eating more than half the rabbit, leaving only the two fattest hind legs. He wanted to save them for tomorrow—after all, it’s not every day you find a rabbit.

With his belly full, Brian Clark finally had the energy to think.

Such a dense forest, with no trace of modernity. The only sign of humans—the hut—was made of branches, covered with birch bark, and tied together with hemp rope.

No wire, no nylon rope, not even a scrap of plastic packaging... This hunter was truly eco-friendly!

So mused Brian Clark. He took another look around and, less than ten meters from the hut, found a spear broken in the middle, as if something had stepped on it. He picked up half the spear, which was covered in thick rust.

Brian Clark took the spear and, using a stone, scraped off the rust to reveal the weapon beneath. Examining it closely, he found the forging technique was very primitive—the iron was full of dense bubbles, like a honeycomb. Brian Clark couldn’t help but shake his head. To hunt with such a poor weapon, this hunter wasn’t just eco-friendly—he was downright reckless!

Just then, footsteps suddenly sounded. Brian Clark instinctively gripped the half-spear in his hand. Crude as it was, it was his only means of survival!

He scanned the area warily. From not far away, a tall, burly man approached, his face covered in a thick beard, a bow slung over his back. His clothes were torn in many places, revealing strong, muscular arms brimming with power.