Mushoku Tensei: Life and Strife.

Once upon a time, there once was a child.

Naïve, foolish, and innocent, the child was far from the cruelty of this world. And in that faraway reality, he found a snail. The child had never seen a snail before, nor did he have a friend before. And so the kid wanted to be friends with the snail.

There was once a snail. An ugly snail. A miserable and unfortunate snail. And as always, luck was not on its side, and it met the child. The snail was kidnapped from its original homeland and imprisoned within the confines of a box, forever starved and harassed by the child for as long as it lived.

The snail had no right to resist. Nor did it have any right to refuse. It had no voice, so it could not scream. It can only struggle from starvation and escapism and continue living by hiding its weak flesh within its shell. But even that was not enough to protect it from the cruelty of the child.

The child wants to be friends with the snail, and you cannot be friends with someone who hides themselves within their shells. And so, the child, with the intention of making friends with the snail, had forced it out of its shell by any means possible. But he failed, because the snail closed its lid every time. And so, the child failed to befriend the snail.

So, the child had an idea. What if he destroyed the lid? That way, wouldn’t the snail that was hiding within have no choice but to be friends with the child?

With these idealistic thoughts in his mind, the child eagerly tore off the lid, setting the snail free from its misery. And the snail lived happily ever after. In peace and in solace, and it shall never feel pain for the rest of its life.

That was also the day the naïve child learned what murder means.

Now why was this story mentioned? Because the red blood and violent rotting smell of flesh had reminded me of that time. But this time, it was far more violent.

If I must point something out, it was due to my own incompetence. If I had been more skilled. The rabbit wouldn’t be struggling right now.

I stared down at the creature. It had been shot in the gut with a wind bullet as it bled. As it struggled to resist telekinesis, blood started to pour down. And somewhere in my head, I realized that I had a talent for murder.

As I raised my index finger and pointed to the rabbit, it shook more violently as if sensing its demise. At that moment, I hesitated.

To be honest, the trembling creature was struggling pitifully to survive another day. And I was never the type to be cruel enough to kill it—or anything even. The memory of scooping flesh and cleansing blood was so traumatic that I was always scared of hurting people.

I wanted to let the rabbit go. I want to set the pitiful creature free. But I can’t. Because I’m human. Because I am a violent ape in search of something to fill my stomach. It was due to hunger. That was all.

“I’m sorry.”

I whispered, staring into the bunny's eyes. I could feel something hot flowing down my cheeks. And as wind gathered into the tip of my index, the fate of the rabbit was decided.

[Wind Bullet]

A shot rang out, the rabbit was laid to rest, and I fell to my knees. I started to cry. Humans had always been cruel. And I was the same. I truly am… a monster.

I thought I had thrown away my emotions. Turns out they were always there, tucked inside a corner and bottled up so thoroughly that I couldn't feel them. Now, all the new sense of wonder of medieval fantasy had made me let my guard down. And being in the body of a child only made it worse.

I thought as I moved my body, skinning the rabbit, removing its guts, and ripping out its skin. It was raw and messy, unkempt and unrefined. I probably have to burn it to remove its fur entirely. And I might have wasted food.

Maybe Paul was right. Maybe I really couldn’t live on my own. Maybe I should have bowed down and accepted all the accusations. After all, hadn’t I lived that way in my previous life?

But I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to live the way I had, being wary of everyone and everything. Laughing off pain and pretending to be fine in fear of getting caught. Always keeping secrets because every secret told would end up known to every single person you know as it gets used by others to harass and bully you, kicking you down to the very mud.

I thought things would change this time. I thought I could change it. I knew what Paul was on about, and I already knew why he did what he did. That’s why I thought I could talk things out. It was a mistake.

Dragging the corpse to the deep pit, I started the flames. The walls of the pit cut out the light and smoke, so I wasn’t caught in the act. Pathetically, I managed to cook the rabbit into something edible.

So long as I lived, the word "trust" had always been a scam. Friendship was a contract, and love was a lie. A person’s value is entirely dependent on what they can provide. It had always been this way. Why would it change just because you’re in another world?

I kept chewing mechanically, trying to swallow down my depressions. But the voices in my head were getting louder and louder. And dried tears reemerged once again.

Fool. What were you thinking? At the end of the day, no matter where you go, people are the same. Why did you wear your heart on your sleeve? Haven't you learned after being backstabbed so many times?

What’s the use of saying anything if everything is going to be pointless anyway? Weren’t you going to leave from the start? Why are you so invested in it now?

As I crawled back into the darkness, the earth wobbled next to a tree within the forest, and so a tiny cabinet opened as if the ground had a jaw. I entered the self-made coffin, covering the door with a bush and warming the area with heat. With this, I won’t die anytime soon.

I thought to myself with a bitter smile and entered deep slumber. At least I know I won’t die if I am tossed into the woods alone anymore.