Chapter 17: You’re Just Another One Wearing His Skin.
By the time he returned to the cave, dusk was settling in.
The trees rustled in the soft wind, their long shadows dancing along the rocky walls.
The faint orange light of the setting sun bled through the gaps in the leaves above, casting an amber hue across the floor.
John dropped the fresh rabbit meat by the firepit and glanced at the small pile of weapons and leather bags he had looted from the bandits.
They sat like forgotten corpses, useless now, no longer wielded by the hands that once threatened him.
"They were stupid," he muttered to himself, shaking his head.
"Too loud, too reckless... too confident."
He sighed, not out of pity, but reflection.
In this world, one moment of arrogance was all it took to die.
They had learned that the hard way.
He quickly skinned and cleaned the rabbit, piercing its meat with wooden skewers and setting them over the fire.
The rich scent filled the cave again, and with each crackle of flame, his body slowly relaxed.