The First Transmigrat

Day 160

Turned out the old man had a name—Aldrick.

I don't know why he didn't say it earlier. Maybe he thought I'd forget. Maybe he thought I wouldn't care. But now that I could finally hold a proper conversation with him, he told me.

Aldrick.

It suited him.

A name carved from some forgotten stone.

Day 170

Rain fell for three days straight. Cold. Soaking.

I didn't do much—just sat around, stared at the cave's ceiling, and sometimes looked at my claws.

There was a strange silence in me.

Maybe I was just lost.

Day 185

Wolves again. Same pack, maybe. They circled but didn't attack. They were watching.

Smart.

Vengeful, too.

Day 190

More rain. Heavy this time. It soaked through even the thickest trees. Everything was cold, damp, and smelled like wet bark and rot.

Day 195

I could finally read and write.

Couldn't speak smoothly yet, but I was getting there.

Day 200

A small celebration. No reason, really. Just… surviving this long felt like enough.

I found a good rock, sharpened my claws, and chewed on some dried meat with Aldrick in silence.

Day 205

More language lessons. More conversations.

I was starting to understand things now. Not just the words—but the way Aldrick thought, the rhythm of this world.

Day 232

I could speak properly. No more stammering. I could hold conversations without thinking too hard about each word.

It was like waking up from sleep.

Day 240

Fought the wolves again.

No one died—not them, not me.

I didn't strike to kill. Wolves are clever. You kill one, the others remember. And if they gang up on you… even someone like me would struggle.

Better to show strength. Let them walk away.

Day 247

They didn't walk away this time.

They ambushed me.

I had no choice.

Half the pack died.

Day 253

The rest followed.

I killed them all.

The alpha had a white core lodged near its heart.

I didn't hesitate.

I ate it.

But nothing changed.

Just a cold taste in my mouth.

Day 260

My conversations with Aldrick had improved. We talked easily now. Sometimes we'd sit in silence, and it didn't feel awkward anymore.

We didn't ask about the past. That was the deal.

He wouldn't ask about me.

I wouldn't ask about him.

Just two people banded together in a world that didn't care whether we lived or died.

Day 270

The forest never seemed to end.

We walked for days. Trees everywhere. The same patterns, the same sounds. No animals in sight.

My compass spun aimlessly.

We were lost.

Day 275

Something felt off.

The kind of wrong that settles in your gut before your brain can explain it.

The kind of feeling protagonists ignore right before they get trapped.

I didn't ignore it.

Day 276

From the edge of our camp, I spotted it.

A wolf—twice the size of the others. Lightning crackled across its back like veins of white-blue fire.

We packed and changed direction immediately.

Fighting that thing?

That was death.

Day 277

We met other humans.

A man in his forties, leading a group of kids my age—ragged, thin, worn. They looked like they'd been wandering for weeks.

They were lost too.

Aldrick talked to the man while I kept my distance, watching the kids.

They avoided eye contact.

No one smiled.

Day 280

By now, Aldrick and I spoke smoothly. A quiet understanding formed between us.

We were survivors.

That's all that mattered.

I finally took out the crumpled papers I'd stolen from that monocle-wearing man back at the river ruins.

Most of it was gibberish.

But one thing caught my eye.

A map.

Zones marked in red.

Places to avoid.

Probably where the stronger beasts lived—like that lightning wolf. Or that giant tiger from before.

I circled those areas with charcoal and kept the map folded close.

Then I opened the thin book that came with it.

Not just a notebook.

A diary.

"Four years ago, 40% of humanity died. No one knows how. No one knows why."

"The land turned barren. Resources vanished. Civilization started to eat itself."

"Plague. Famine. Collapse."

"And then, it happened again. Almost all life perished."

"Those of us who remained were brought here. A world filled with life and resources. We believed it was a miracle—a second chance. A god-given opportunity."

"We started exploring. But those who went deep into the forest never came back."

"People panicked. Groups split. Fools—don't they understand how little manpower we have left?"

"I couldn't do anything. I was just a background character. My body was aging faster than my mind."

"Then we found it. A red stone inside the body of a creature that looked like a cheetah."

"We lost half our team to kill it. It was two meters tall. Regenerated faster than we could shoot it."

"But we won. Barely."

"I took the stone. Is this how it grew so strong?"

The entry ended there.

Just a blank page after.

I stared at it for a long time.

Then closed the book.

So, this wasn't just a jungle filled with monsters.

It was a graveyard for civilizations.

A place people were brought to.

A chance… or a trap.

I looked at the night sky, the stars cold and unfamiliar.

And whispered under my breath:

"…What kind of world is this?"